Nisha Bhatt 1 The heat hit Meera the moment she stepped out of the small taxi, a dry, almost physical force that wrapped around her like an unwelcome embrace. The sun above Jaisalmer was merciless, turning the very air into a wavering haze. Yet, through the shimmer, she saw it—the great fort, its honey-gold sandstone walls rising above the old city, glowing like a mirage against the pale blue sky. The streets leading up to it were a winding tangle of ochre walls, brightly painted doorways, and the occasional splash of bougainvillea spilling over balconies. Cows wandered lazily in the…