1 LONG LONG AGO

Mr. Sharma, her history professor was in the middle of giving a lecture on the topic 'Riots of 1932'. There were students listening to him with curious eyes, but there were also the likes of her... having a hard time keeping themselves awake.

"In the states of Punjab, Gujarat, and Bengal, riots had taken the lives of around three hundred people. To the consequences of which a number of leaders and rebels were sentenced to death..." Mr. Sharma told his students.

He noticed her, snoozing as her eyelids got heavier to keep erect, "Miss Tina, would you mind telling me the names of the leaders who were sentenced to death for provoking the riots?" he pointed at her, which caused a hundred of stares to rain on her startled face.

Tina needed a moment to understand her situation; ever since the lecture had started, all her memories were dull as if she was oblivious of her presence in the classroom.

"The names of the leaders... were," she riffled through the pages of her textbook to look for the answer while rolling her eyes around the classroom to find out what page he was reading from. Mr. Sharma sighed, "huh!" as she didn't even have the right book opened.

"I want you in my office after the class." He instructed her, and then coming back to the students, "By the way, I haven't listed the names yet... if there is any other who was sleeping."

Tina was unable to lift her face up; that embarrassment had worked like three shots of espresso and she wasn't sleepy anymore. She held her face in her hands and listened to the remaining lecture.

Mr. Sharma closed his book, "So, I guess that's it for today." When other students left to hang out in the cafeteria with their friends, she remained alone and followed the professor to his cabin.

Mr. Sharma was frowning with anger. Tina gently shut the door of his cabin and came inside. He tossed his book at the desk, removed his glasses, and looked at her. "I can't believe you are my daughter," He spoke.

"Well, same here! which father would humiliate his daughter in front of the entire class watching? Tell me that I am adopted because only then does it make sense." Tina made herself home by brusquely sitting on his chair.

"What's the problem? Am I a bad teacher?" He asked, looking concerned for her.

"No, dad. It's just that... I don't want to take a History class. It's boring and there is too much to memorize." She whined.

"But you were so good at it when you were little. Don't you Remember?... You won that prize in that quiz and you were the kid who wanted to visit museums when your friends were on a picnic." He sounded desperate.

"You just want me to study it because you love History, don't you?" she replied. Mr. Sharma hesitated to say another word as he couldn't refute that argument.

"Alright then, I will allow you to withdraw from the class." he gave in and Tina was elated; she exclaimed, "Really? Then I am going to apply in Psychology."

"However," He uttered with an intense stretch. "There's one condition," he stated and a blind consent was already waiting on her lips.

*****

It was midnight and she was still in the college library which welcomed those curious students 24/7. The library of her college was the most prominent one in the city, where even the oldest handwritten texts, manuscripts, and records with no other copies were kept.

Tina picked up a few books out of the shelf and stacked one upon another on a desk she occupied. She had a pen in her hand, which she fiddled with as she went from right to left and top to bottom of every single page of a thick book.

"I want you to submit a research paper on the 'Riots of 1932'." These words from her father's mouth constantly echoed in her mind. She mumbled to herself, "Hmm!.. So this is what it will take to get rid of you, fine."

She grabbed a book resting on the peak of the stack, an old dowdy record book that showed the title, 'The Lives Compromised,' on its coffee-brown cover. She began to flip pages after pages, then suddenly, she paused rifling at one of them, "Wow! who is he?" She stared at page no. 54 with beaming eyes.

Her eyes fell on a portrait that was given above the name 'Shera', leader of the rebel force. He had an unbelievably dashing face, especially for those times. He stood out among the other revolutionaries whose portraits were also there. He was young, supposedly in his late twenties, simply because he was executed at that age. The picture was not clear enough to do justice to his immaculate facial features and charismatic eyes.

"Only if I had been born a century ago, I would have married him." She was smitten by him in no time.

She found his entire life put in words on a single page. She couldn't stop herself from reading it, sliding her own assignment aside.

-He was born in Patiala, Punjab, on the 9th of March 1904, to a couple from a well-off family. Both the parents were journalists working in Awaaz (Voice) Publications, criticizing slavery through the means. He graduated from the Trinity College of Cambridge. He was betrothed to princess Yamini, the daughter of Maharaja Hari, who allegedly never got married to anyone after his death.-

"Interesting," she exclaimed.

She yawned and caught a quick sight of the clock to check the time, 1:11 it showed. She closed the book with a thud... but strangely opened it again and grabbing her phone, she clicked a photo of page no. 54.

"I wish there were better cameras back then."

The flash went off on the photo that was all black and white. The only color it had on it was some lemony stain that obviously got there when someone touched that book with dirty hands. But that was probably the only picture he had taken in his entire lifetime.

She took a glance at the photo she had just clicked and her eyes widened as she saw something insane in it. "Am I seeing things?" She wondered if it was just her illusion.

His eyes were closed like someone flinches when a flashlight hits the naked eye. She held her phone close to the book in contrast. On the paper, his eyes were opened, even giving a hint of what color it might have been but on the other side, and in the bright phone screen, a mind-boggling detail was captured.

"This is what history does to me.... maybe, I have done too much for the day."

She flicked that unbelievable sight away from her mind, without much thinking. She packed her things up and left while the book remained open. In her absence, the library went into utter silence and darkness from the sudden power cut. The pages of the book began to flutter and rustle in a place where there was no window to let the wind in. It suddenly stopped at page no. 54 and a devious smirk had replaced the sophistication of his face in the portrait as if it was alive. Shera lifted one corner of his lips, saying hello from his 2D world.