The Unfamiliar well or maybe time.
Vritika Sharma had always believed that ordinary days were the ones most people remembered least.
They began quietly, without warning, and passed by in a familiar rhythm. No great event announced itself beforehand. No one knew that a simple morning or afternoon might become the last moment of normalcy in their life.
That day had started like any other.
Vritika came from a comfortable upper-middle-class family in 2026. Her home was filled with warmth, familiar arguments, shared meals, and the kind of love that did not always need to be spoken aloud. Her parents were kind and supportive, while her elder brother had perfected the art of annoying her.
He teased her whenever he got the chance, stole food from her plate, and interfered in matters she considered none of his business. Yet, beneath all his irritating habits, he was deeply protective of her. He had taught her how to ride a horse and a motorbike, insisting that she should never have to depend on anyone for her safety. He had also taught her the basics of self-defense.
Vritika often complained about his overprotectiveness, but she knew she had benefited from it.
She was kind and soft-hearted, but that did not make her weak. She knew how to stand up for herself and had never been afraid to speak when something truly mattered. Her sharp tongue often got her into arguments, especially with her brother, but her quick replies were only one part of her nature. Behind her calm expression was a sharp and calculating mind that noticed details others often ignored.
After completing her B.Sc. degree, Vritika had plenty of options for her future. However, her deepest interest had always been history. She enjoyed reading about India’s past, particularly the period of colonization and the lives of the freedom fighters who had stood against British rule.
For Vritika, history was not merely a collection of dates and events printed in textbooks. It was made up of real people, real sacrifices, and real struggles. She often found herself wondering what those people had felt, what they had seen, and how they had gathered the courage to fight against such powerful forces.
That afternoon, as part of her usual routine, Vritika sat in a public park with a history book resting open in her hands. The book focused on the colonization period of India, and she was deeply absorbed in its pages.
The park around her was peaceful.
Children ran across the grass, shouting and laughing as they played. Some adults walked along the paved paths, speaking casually among themselves. A few people sat beneath the shade of the trees, enjoying the pleasant weather. The sounds of the park blended together into a familiar background—children’s laughter, footsteps, distant conversations, and the occasional rustling of leaves.
Vritika occasionally lifted her eyes from the book to glance at the people around her. She watched the children play, observed the adults walking past, and then returned to her reading. There was something calming about sitting in the middle of ordinary life while remaining quietly lost in her own thoughts.
Her attention returned to the page in front of her.
She was reading a passage about India’s struggle during the colonial period when, without warning, a ball flew across the park.
It struck her directly on the head.
“Ouch!”
Vritika let out a sharp yelp, and the book slipped from her hands. She raised one hand to the place where the ball had hit her, blinking in surprise. For a moment, the world around her seemed to lose its balance.
The voices in the park grew distant.
The trees blurred before her eyes.
She tried to steady herself, but the ground seemed to shift beneath her. A strange heaviness spread through her head, and before she could understand what was happening, the world around her dissolved into darkness.
Everything went black.
When Vritika opened her eyes again, confusion was the first thing she felt.
She stared blankly at the unfamiliar surroundings, unable to understand where she was. The peaceful public park was gone. The sounds of children playing and adults walking had disappeared.
Instead, she found herself lying on a wooden cart.
Her body felt stiff, and her head still throbbed faintly from the impact. Slowly, she pushed herself up and looked around.
In front of her stood a small village.
A well was situated nearby, surrounded by an unfamiliar landscape. The place looked nothing like the modern park she had been sitting in only moments ago. There were no paved walkways, no city sounds, and no familiar surroundings.
Vritika stared at the village with growing confusion.
She looked down at herself. She was still wearing the same clothes she had been wearing in the park—a white top and black jeans.
Her fingers tightened around the edge of the cart.
She had no idea where she was.
She had no idea how she had arrived there.
And, most frighteningly, she had no idea why everything around her felt as though it belonged to another time entirely.
