Secret of the Himalayan Treasure

by Divyansh Mundra

  ​ “I am …” Aanya tried speaking before the librarian shushed her away.

  ​ “I know who you are. But we don’t want everyone else to know about it, do we? Now. Quick. Follow me”, she spoke as she led them away.

  ​ Mrs. Daruwala made them follow her atop a flight of stairs before heading to her right through a wide hallway. They walked silently and stopped once they came across a room to the very end. A marble stone greeted the entrance of the room, reading: Donated by Mr. Radheshyam Motilal Vashishtha to the Bombay Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, 1947.

  ​ “This way”, Mrs. Daruwala instructed the trio as she unlocked the door to the room. The room was largely empty and comparatively smaller to the rest of the place. It was built entirely out of white marble. Four columns stacked with books were placed to a side while the rest of the room was adorned by a few paintings. In the center was placed a big round table, with four chairs accompanying it.

  ​ “I’m sorry for your loss Miss Aanya”, the librarian spoke to her once they were inside. “Your father visited this place quite often. This entire wing, in fact, was donated to this society by your grandfather. I remember that the last time Mr. Vashishtha had visited this room. He had asked me to only allow you after him.”

  ​ “When was the last time he came here?” Aarav asked her.

  ​ “I don’t think it is necessary for treasure hunters to come here and spoil the legacy of a great man.”

  ​ Aarav gave her a puzzled look, but before he could retort Aanya came to his defense. “He is a friend of mine, ma’am. You can answer whatever he asks.”

  ​ The librarian looked at Aarav displeasingly before she replied to him. “He came here about a month ago, before he passed away.”

  ​ “And how frequently did he visit this place?” Aarav continued with his questions.

  ​ “About seven to ten times in a year. Sometimes more.”

  ​ “Did he visit any other rooms in this library?”

  ​ “No. He came to the reading room a couple of times to chat with me. He was a humble man. But apart from that, I don’t recollect him visiting any other rooms. He always came on Sundays when the library was closed, and his men used to contact me and tell me about his arrival two or three days in advance.”

  ​ “And what exactly it is that he did here?”

  ​ “I don’t know. I only opened the gate for him and never stayed. I think he maintains his own private collection of books here.”

  ​ “Thank you very much. You were of great help.”

  ​ “If you need any assistance from me, you can find me at my desk.”

  ​ “We will. Thank you”, Aanya spoke as Mrs. Daruwala left the room.

  ​ Rehann went ahead and closed the door from the inside. “What now?” he uttered.

  ​ Aarav immediately went to the books stacked in the columns and started examining them. “Let’s see what we have here”, he uttered. “The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, War and Peace, Catch-22, Great Expectations, Lord of the Rings, The Chronicles of Narnia, Robinson Crusoe, Republic, Homage to Catalonia, Pride and Prejudice. No there is nothing odd here. Let’s see this shelf. A Tale of Two Cities, Harry Potter, The Godfather, Tales of Mystery and Terror, An Empire Lost… huh, that’s a strange title. Nothing here too. Let’s see that one. Godan, Madhushala, Raag Darbari, Chandrakanta, Rashmirathi, Nirmala, Chitralekha, Geetanjali, Bhagavad Gita.” Aarav moved his arms over his hair and pulled himself away in frustration. “There is a pattern here. I know it. But what could it be. There is nothing out of the ordinary here. Those are all classics. First editions probably. But what does it mean?”

  ​ “Maybe he wrote a code hidden in the note? Again?” Rehann asked.

  ​ “No. I went through it. That is a genuine note. It would have been difficult for him to hide a cryptogram in a letter that long. This doesn’t make any sense.”

  ​ Aarav went through all the books again, pulling each one out and hearing hard for any clicks. But to his dismay, those were just a bunch of books, nothing else. “He must have a book hidden here somewhere. He mentioned it in his letter. Each of the masters had a secret book pertaining to a secret art, and all the books combined would reveal the map of the treasure.”

  ​ “Wait!” Rehann spoke up. “You just saw the covers of the books. What if the material inside is something else?”

  ​ They both looked at each other for a moment before rushing to pick out the books and going through all of them, one by one. “It was the best of times. It was the worst of times”, Aarav picked out a book and started reading before shuffling to another one. “… Under such circumstances, I naturally gravitated to London, that great cesspool into which all the loungers and idlers of the Empire are irresistibly drained… ” he put the book back as he wiped a trickle of sweat from his forehead and switching over to another one. “The sun shone bright over the vastness of the Maltar glacier, its soft blaze pelting on the bloodied ice cover.” He stopped and shoved the book back into the shelf. “This isn’t the secret book. Rehann, you pick up the books in Hindi and Urdu. I will go through the ones on this shelf.”

  ​ Aarav picked up another one and started shuffling through the pages. His dark brown hair, which he carefully set himself by applying products, were falling down effortlessly over his forehead; his eyes, which matched the color of his hair, pacing through pages of the classics of literature. He was biting his lips due to anxiousness, his snub nose twitching along with it. Aarav was a man of incredible focus when it came to the things he loved. Yet he would delay the tasks he hated till the very last second, be it the subjects he never liked in school or paying his taxes when he grew up. He was twenty-four years old, a fact which surprised many and quite young for the way he looked. He pulled off a little stubble and was extremely conscious of his public image, always making sure that he was spotted in the best of attires outside whenever he left his home. He was born in a middle-class family in the town of Ratlam, somewhere leaning towards the western end of central India. He was prodigious from a young age, and displayed remarkable prowess when it came to languages and history. He was shy by nature and never really opened up, always remaining quiet and to himself. His nature was only worsened when he was sent to the bustling metropolis of Mumbai for his studies at a young age, turning his shyness into being perceived as rudeness by many. He was at his hometown on vacations from the first year of college, that he made his first treasure hunt and helped in discovering an ancient Mughal gem that was gifted to one of the oldest families of Ratlam. He had progressed a lot in the eight years since, and became particularly famous when he uncovered an ancient treasure in the fort of Chittorgarh. That discovery was covered massively by the Indian media, thanks to no big news happening in that week, making Aarav Kohrrathi a celebrity overnight, a treasure hunter, one of the only few in the world. The treasure also brought him riches. The government claimed control over the discovery and gave an undisclosed amount, a share from the treasure to each of the hunters. Aarav’s was the largest share. He purchased a huge bungalow in Mumbai, and gave the rest of his money to his father, a chartered accountant by profession, to make and manage his investments. Yet the hunt for the secret Himalayan treasure was one of the biggest challenges he had undertaken. He wasn’t himself sure as to his ability to solve a mystery that was more than two thousand years old. Especially when he wasn’t even able to find a book in a library.

  ​ “No! No! No!”, he grunted in frustration after about half an hour. “None of the books have anything irregular with them.” He placed them back in the same order as they were and sat on one of the chairs before closing his eyes to think.

  ​ “I didn’t find anything either”, Rehann spoke to Aanya. “Might have torn a page or two of some medieval Urdu couplets rather.”

  ​ Aanya passed a genuine smile, her first in many days. “I didn’t find anything out of ordinary with the books placed on the shelf in the back either. Maybe we are looking at it wrong. Maybe th
e books have nothing to do with what my father wanted me to find.”

  ​ “There is nothing else in this room that stands out of the ordinary. I stomped the floor and knocked at the walls too. But guess what? No hollow sounds”, Rehann spoke in frustration. “There is nothing else in this room apart from the ceiling fan with so many fancy lights, four ordinary paintings and a set of table and chairs.”

  ​ “A ceiling fan with many fancy lights”, Aarav’s face lit up as he turned his gaze towards the huge fan overlooking the room. The fan was abnormally big, with four bronze colored wings which had lights dropping down in an asymmetric fashion. The fan was more of a decorative piece than to be used for what it was meant to. “Of course, the ceiling fan”, Aarav uttered again.

  ​ “I was just naming the things I could see here”, Rehann spoke, unsure of Aarav’s conjecture.

  ​ “No! Rehann, it is the best suggestion you have given me in your life. It is fantastic. And so obvious when I think of it now.”

  ​ “It’s not obvious to me.”

  ​ “You are seeing it my friend but you don’t perceive the facts. We have a fan in the room. Correct. But where is the switch to turn on the fan?”

  ​ Rehann gazed across the room again in amazement. “I’ll be damned. There is no switch.”

  ​ “Now look at the lights hanging down from it”, Aarav continued. “Nine lights in total. That is nine lights dropping from four wings. Eight of them are in symmetry, two each for a wing. But there is something odd about the third wing you see, there is an extra light attached towards the front. Absolutely fantastic.”

  ​ “What does it mean?” Rehann spoke again. “Do we have to pull it?”

  ​ “Pull it. Or shake it. Either way, we need a lasso or something like that.”

  ​ Aanya, who standing at the back all this while, watching the two men engage in a brainstorming session about a ceiling fan expressed her displeasure at last. “I don’t think that my father would make it all so absurd, such that it would require him to create a lasso and pull a light from a ceiling fan every time that he visited this place.”

  ​ Both Aarav and Rehann stared at their feet after hearing Aanya’s words. “What do you mean? There is nothing else out of the ordinary at this place”, Aarav expressed his frustration at being unable to come up with a solution.

  ​ “You see that painting?” Aanya spoke while pointing at one of the works of art adorning the walls of the room. “A similar painting hangs on a wall in my mother’s library. The only thing that stands out from both is that the sun is towards the right side of the frame in the one in my mother’s library, but it is on the left in this one.” Aanya moved ahead and pressed her fingers at the bottom of the golden frame of the painting, which landed on a button hardly a second later. The entire painting slid up all of a sudden, revealing a safe lodged inside the wall behind it. Aanya looked at both the men in her company and passed a victorious smile.

  ​ “I didn’t even know that your mother had her own separate library, let alone about a similar painting hanging on its walls. I had to go with the information that I had at hand and work with it”, Aarav defended himself.

  ​ “I know”, Aanya spoke smilingly again as she proceeded towards the safe.

  ​ “Fingerprint scanner. No codes for this one”, Aarav gave a subtle hint to his fellows that he was right about there being no code in the note left by Mr. Vashishtha.

  ​ Aanya placed her thumb on the scanner and a message displayed across the digital screen to the side of the locker: Fingerprint scan successful. Stand straight for the retinal scan.

  ​ “Your father knows how to protect his secrets”, Rehann said to Aanya as she moved ahead and opened her eyes wide. The safe made a sound and Aanya grabbed its handle to open it. Inside the secured container awaited a book that was centuries old, much older than any other book in the room. Aanya picked it out carefully. It was surprisingly cold; the container was specially modified to prevent the book from any kind of erosion.

  ​ Aanya carefully brought it out and placed it on the table. The book had a golden cover, surprisingly modern for an ancient text like that. On its surface was written: The Book of Alchemy in black.

  ​ “The Book of Alchemy”, Aarav muttered under his breath. “Oh! Of course! How can I be such a big fool?” he grew excited.

  ​ “What now?” Aanya asked.

  ​ “Your father said it in the interview, right before he shot hims…”, he stopped speaking, seeing the expressions of both Rehann and Aanya change. “I’m sorry”, he continued. “But in his speech, he did say that he had seen so much wealth in his lifetime that it was as if he was an alchemist who knew how to convert metal into gold.”

  ​ “Oh! Yes, he did”, Rehann spoke.

  ​ “Your father laid his biggest secret out in the world in front of thousands of people watching him, yet not a single soul exists who could find it out. He had the Book of Alchemy. Your forefathers knew how to covert metals into gold. That is how your family has always been affluent. That is why your family has been rich since so long. Your ancestors knew the secret to make gold out of nothing”, Aarav stopped to grab his breath.

  ​ “Fantastic”, Rehann uttered. “I wonder what secrets rest of the books hold.”

  ​ “But how come it is written in English?” she asked Aarav.

  ​ “I think that the successors of this book continued translating this work to the language prevalent during their times. I am sure that we will find a lot of other languages when we read the book. You can tell it by the color of the pages. Look how they change consistently. Paper as we know it wasn’t invented at the time when this book was written. Ashoka probably died in 232 BC while the precursor to modern paper was invented in China somewhere around 200 BC. There are evidences of writings in India on hemp based fibers dating back to around the same time. If the initial pages of this book are indeed made from the same or some other material, it would be a massive breakthrough to understand the beginning of the art of writing in our country. It could further verify in approximating the year in which Emperor Ashoka died and serve as a check to what we know presently. Ah! So much history could be proven from just the quality of material used in the earliest versions of this document that I feel like crying right now.”

  ​ Rehann again admired Aarav’s perception, which made him appreciate the history associated with the book, rather than the fact that it contained the process to convert metal into gold. Sadly, Aanya didn’t.

  ​ “I’m sorry”, she spoke while pulling the book back as soon as Aarav tried to reach for it. “If this book indeed contains the secret to make gold, I cannot share the contents of it with anybody. It is my family’s legacy after all.”

  ​ “But we really don’t care about the gold. You can trust us”, Rehann spoke, concerned; while Aarav took in a deep breath to limit his excitement and control himself.

  ​ “You are treasure hunters. Of course you care about the gold”, Aanya retorted. “I only met the both of you today and I have already shared a lot of details with you than one can imagine.”

  ​ “It is fine”, Aarav spoke. “We don’t need to see the procedure to make gold from metals. We just need the details of the master your father was supposed to watch over. He mentioned in his note that he had to search for the three masters himself and then he found out that they were murdered. So if he had to search for them, it means that the master he was supposed to watch over is still alive. We just need that information from this book to continue on the quest. Oh and also, I would like to borrow it once to perform some tests on the paper. It will be completely fine. There will be no damage I promise you.”

  ​ “No”, Aanya stood her ground. “I cannot let anyone look through the book. It just cannot happen. I will read the details about the master myself and let you both know. And I cannot allow you to carry any tests on the papers of this book Aarav.”

  ​ “But I promise that I…”

  ​ “Are y
ou telling me that you will conduct these tests on the papers without opening the book?”

  ​ “No. But can’t you see? Can’t you admire the kind of history we can uncover just from the pages of the document you are holding? After everything I told you?”

  ​ “Yes. I admire that. I can understand your curiosity about the history. But it is my family’s legacy.”

  ​ “God! Your father went public with your family’s legacy”, Aarav raised his voice.

  ​ “Aarav”, Rehann tried to calm him down, for he knew that Aarav didn’t handle situations well when he got angry.

  ​ “No. I am serious about this”, he took in a deep breath. “I can’t understand why people always under appreciate the history. It is our heritage, it is our culture, it is our religion, and it is our boundaries and borders. It is in the spices you use in your food and it is in the temple you visit every morning. It is in the plantations from where your tea comes from and it is in the city you were born in. You see, I don’t care about some formula that can make me gold. I care about the book in your hand Aanya that can probably help me understand and validate the beginning of the writing system in India.”

  ​ “I understand Aarav, but I am afraid I cannot help”, she replied as she turned back to leave.

  ​ “Will you both stop fighting? Don’t we have a treasure to find?” Rehann interrupted.

  ​ “What treasure?” Aarav was at his wits end and fuming with rage. “Why does it matter if she is going to stop me from searching the history behind it anyway?”

  ​ “Aarav, now you are being a moron”, Aanya raised her voice too. “This is the last we are speaking on this matter. I am not giving up this book for any tests, on any of the pages, at any point of time, by anyone.”

  ​ “Fine! Then I won’t continue helping you or rather guiding you through this treasure hunt. I bet you’ll drop that book twice before even exiting this library in your fancy Louboutin heels.” Aarav’s ego got the better of him.