Kuldhara—the ghost village :
Kuldura towns and towns hold an appeal altogether different from the vestiges of palaces and fortifications, generally because they allow us to peep directly into the lives of the individuals who once occupied them. Being a desert locale, Rajasthan has no lack of phantom towns except for not many of them have as much consideration as Bhangarh and Kuldhara, maybe because of the legends related to them. While we were in Jaisalmer, it was very normal for us to want a visit to Kuldhara, thus we did. Lying 17km west of Jaisalmer, Kuldhara has a story. About 300 years back, it used to be a prosperous town of Paliwal Brahmins under the territory of Jaisalmer. As per the legend, the hostile stares of Salim Singh, the amazing and defiled PM of the state, fell on the little girl of the town head and he wanted to wed her forcibly. He compromised the town with grave results if they didn’t hold fast to his desire. Rather than submitting to the request for the dictator, the Paliwals held a gathering, and individuals of 85 towns left their familial homes and disappeared. In any case, this was not all; before leaving, they put a revile on Kuldhara that nobody will actually have the option to get comfortable in their town from that point. To this date, the town stays infertile; left nearly equivalent to its occupants had left it hundreds of years back. It is additionally said that individuals who have attempted to remain there around evening time have been pursued away by weird paranormal marvel. Another, more conceivable explanation can be that Salim Singh raised the expenses so much that it got unviable for the neighborhood network to make due in the town; and they subsequently chose to move to greener fields. In any case, individuals love the previous story; all things considered, who doesn’t need a hint of sentiment and secret in their stories!
While returning towards Jaisalmer, we took a go to directly eventually and went on another straight dusty street highly involved with nothing for a couple of kilometers, before the remnants appeared. The sun was up in the sky when we arrived at Kuldhara. This spot is an ensured landmark and is kept up by the Archeological Survey of India (ASI). In the wake of taking the tickets and so on, we entered the town on our jeep and passed through what more likely than not been the central avenue of the settlement. I should admit that it felt minimal frightful—heaps of mud houses, their rooftops proceeded to demolish dividers remaining there like the skeletons of some dismal past.
The scene was dry and dusty and in any event, during more joyful occasions, it would have been a battle to live there. We halted at a spot that resembled the focal point of the town. On our privilege was a house fit as a fiddle. We went inside it, saw the rooms, and even went up the steps to the rooftop from where the entire town could be seen. Even though I was unable to feel any otherworldly presence there, Ekta was very awkward and needed to return and be with others. There is a sanctuary that is presumably not being used anymore, and another road goes from that point corresponding to the central avenue. I convinced Ekta to come somewhat advance into the vestiges. As we strolled alone encompassed by those disintegrating dividers, over the lives of individuals gone hundreds of years prior, it gave an abnormal inclination—that thorny sensation on the rear of the neck which makes one entirely awkward. Obviously, she would not go any further and we rushed back to our vehicle. Kuldhara is a forsaken place with a pitiful look and carries bitterness to the heart when one thinks about those terrible individuals who had to leave the place that is known for their ancestors. In any case, the spot doesn’t appear to be creepy in any way, shape, or form other than the legends themselves, and for our own discernment dependent on those accounts. Even though there is trouble noticeable all around, there is ideally nothing reviled about it.