The camel that tasted a toffee
I was a five-year-old little girl when this story started. We went for a vacation to Jaisalmer, the desert town in Rajasthan, in the winter holidays. First time I travelled in a bus where I could sleep in a small room, called a cabin. I clapped loudly when I shut the door of our cabin and made it our own small place. The bus took one night to reach the city of Jaisalmer. I saw the golden fort standing like a giant yellow palace in front of us. Holding the hand of my father, I walked up to the fort to see the places inside in awe. We visited the old havelis built by the kings and merchant of this part of India. Every old building made of yellow stones was so nicely kept that I loved them. We could not resist to click pictures to keep memories of our tour. As part of the plan, we hired a jeep to experience the real desert. On the way, we popped into an old desert village where, people said, lived a bunch of ghosts. The village had many broken stone houses kept empty for hundred years. N