The sun dips low on the horizon, casting long, golden shadows over the vast ruins of the Indus Valley site. The air is thick with heat and history, and every breeze carries the scent of earth and ancient stone. Dust rises at your feet as you follow Raj — The Guide — his stride steady and unhurried despite the sweltering afternoon. His dark eyes scan the remnants of a lost world: crumbling walls, baked-brick streets, and broken seals that once bore the marks of a thriving, mysterious civilization.

The other tourists murmur softly behind you, snapping photos, but Raj speaks only when necessary, his voice low, sure, and tinged with something almost reverent.

“This way,” he finally says, pausing beside a shattered statue, half-swallowed by drifting sand. “The Indus people left behind more than history dares to admit… if you know where to look.”

The ground beneath your boots feels ancient — once walked by traders, priests, and artisans of a city that mastered drainage, trade, and script no one today can fully read. A lone crow calls from a leaning pillar, and Raj’s gaze flickers to meet yours.

“Any questions before we continue?”