Best Rajasthan tour Packages from jaipur 4599/- per person #86
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🐍 THE CURSED ITINERARY
Nobody on the ₹4,599 Rajasthan tour expected trouble.
But when the tour guide handed out the printed itinerary,
one sheet was different.
Older.
Yellowed.
Rough at the edges.
And it ended with a line nobody else had:
“Return before the desert chooses.”
Aisha stared at it.
“This isn’t mine,” she said.
The guide checked his list.
“No one got that one.
You probably picked it accidentally.”
But Aisha knew she hadn’t.
Something had slipped it into her hands.
Something old.
Watching.
Waiting.
🕌 AJMER – THE MAN IN THE BLUE TURBAN
Aisha tried to ignore the strange itinerary.
But at Ajmer Sharif, a man in a blue turban approached.
“You must not follow that schedule,” he said.
Aisha stepped back.
“What are you talking about?”
He pointed to her paper.
“That route belongs to someone else.”
She frowned.
“Whose?”
The man’s expression tightened.
“To the one who never returned.”
Before she could ask more,
he melted into the crowd like smoke.
Aisha felt her stomach twist.
“Great,” she muttered.
“Haunted paper. Fantastic.”
🌸 PUSHKAR – THE UNLISTED STOP
The itinerary had a stop that didn’t exist:
‘The Mirror of Kalpa – Pushkar’
Aisha showed it to the group.
Nobody had heard of it.
But the moment she walked near a narrow alley,
the wind tugged her dupatta
like it was guiding her.
She followed it into a small abandoned haveli.
Inside, she found a massive cracked mirror.
Blackened.
Silent.
Waiting.
Her reflection looked normal at first…
…until it blinked.
A second too late.
Aisha stumbled back, heart hammering.
Then the reflection lifted its hand
and traced a word on the mirror’s foggy surface:
RUN.
🏜️ JAISALMER – THE NIGHT THE ITINERARY BLED
On the way to Jaisalmer, the itinerary paper warmed in her pocket.
She pulled it out.
A new line was appearing —
not printed, but scratched in
like a warning carved by a shaking hand:
“Do not look back after sunset.”
Aisha swallowed hard.
The bus reached the desert camp at twilight.
Everyone rushed to enjoy music and food.
But Aisha felt the desert pulsing
like a creature
breathing right under the sand.
She walked a little farther,
the cold air biting her skin.
And then —
The desert lights behind her suddenly went silent.
No drums.
No laughter.
No voices.
Just… nothing.
Her body froze.
She remembered the warning.
Do not look back after sunset.
A soft voice behind her whispered her name.
“Aisha…”
She shut her eyes.
The voice came again.
Closer.
“Aishaaa… turn around.”
Her heart slammed painfully.
She knew that voice.
Her brother’s.
But he died three years ago.
The wind grew colder.
The voice became sharper.
Then angry.
“TURN AROUND!”
Aisha shook violently.
“No,” she whispered.
The voice twisted into something inhuman.
Sand rose around her feet
like hands trying to pull her down.
She clutched the itinerary,
the only strange shield she had.
And suddenly —
it caught fire in her hands.
The flames burned silently,
turning the cursed schedule into ash.
And the sand-hands disappeared.
The voice faded.
The silence broke.
A drum beat echoed from the camp.
People were laughing again.
Everything was normal.
As if nothing had tried to drag her into the dunes.
🌑 THE FINAL NOTE
The next morning, the tour guide returned her regular, clean itinerary.
“No idea how you got the wrong sheet yesterday,” he said casually.
“Those old papers are from years ago.
Leftover from a group that got lost in a storm.”
Aisha’s blood ran cold.
“How many were lost?”
The guide shrugged.
“Just one.”
Aisha whispered shakily:
“A man… in a blue turban?”
The guide blinked in shock.
“Yes. How did you—”
Aisha stepped back slowly.
Because behind the tour guide…
she saw the same man standing on a dune.
Smiling softly.
Fading like morning mist.
Her cursed itinerary was gone.
But he wasn’t.