Once, in a quiet kingdom nestled between silver rivers and moonlit hills of the ancient Indian subcontinent, where Mughal domes shimmered against the dusk sky and Rajput forts crowned the cliffs, there lived a knight: noble, fearless, and pure of heart.
He was known not for his victories in battle, but for the gentleness in his eyes whenever he looked at the princess—the daughter of the Maharaja-whom he secretly loved.
She was promised to another, a Mughal prince from a distant imperial province, a marriage arranged to secure peace between two great empires.
The knight knew his love was forbidden; in courts filled with silk, politics, and alliances, the heart had no place. Yet the heart does not understand diplomacy, it only knows what it feels.
When war broke out along the desert borders, the knight rode into battle with her silk raksha dhaaga tied around the hilt of his talwar-a symbol of the love he could never claim.
He fought like a monsoon storm, defending her kingdom even as his own heart bled in silence.
When peace finally returned, the princess was married away in a grand procession of elephants, lanterns, and shehnai songs. The knight never confessed his feelings.
That night, under the same moon that once listened to his unspoken dreams, he rode into the dense sal forests beyond the fort, never to return.
Some say he still wanders there-a ghost in shining armor, part Rajput warrior, part forgotten legend-guarding the memory of a love that never was.
Forever called The Fallen Knight.
He was known not for his victories in battle, but for the gentleness in his eyes whenever he looked at the princess—the daughter of the Maharaja-whom he secretly loved.
She was promised to another, a Mughal prince from a distant imperial province, a marriage arranged to secure peace between two great empires.
The knight knew his love was forbidden; in courts filled with silk, politics, and alliances, the heart had no place. Yet the heart does not understand diplomacy, it only knows what it feels.
When war broke out along the desert borders, the knight rode into battle with her silk raksha dhaaga tied around the hilt of his talwar-a symbol of the love he could never claim.
He fought like a monsoon storm, defending her kingdom even as his own heart bled in silence.
When peace finally returned, the princess was married away in a grand procession of elephants, lanterns, and shehnai songs. The knight never confessed his feelings.
That night, under the same moon that once listened to his unspoken dreams, he rode into the dense sal forests beyond the fort, never to return.
Some say he still wanders there-a ghost in shining armor, part Rajput warrior, part forgotten legend-guarding the memory of a love that never was.
Forever called The Fallen Knight.
have a great day ahead 