Aarushi Trivedi One The monsoon had just withdrawn from the land, leaving behind a scent of damp earth and ancient memories as Dr. Meera Rao stepped off the dusty jeep that brought her to Shulgaon—a quiet riverside village wrapped in dense sal groves and secrets. From the banks of the Narmada, the landscape stretched out with a deceptive serenity, the river gliding past like a sentient observer. Meera adjusted the scarf around her neck, shielding herself from the lingering heat, her eyes already scanning the site marked by flags and canvas tarps. It was an unassuming mound just fifty meters…
