Now, let us take you to another land and guide you through a different, enchanting place. Along with this, we wish to show you marvelous feats and wondrous things, so as to properly continue the thread of our tale. Yet, at this point, we feel compelled to write something important, the knowledge of which will bring you greater enjoyment as the story unfolds.

Upon reading many of the astonishing things in this place, do not assume that this is a tilism, and that such things occur only within magical realms. Rather, consider them true and possible, and ponder them well, for this is only the first part. In these four parts of the Santati, we shall not even mention the name of tilism—let us see what comes later.

Imagine that you have arrived in a beautiful, scenic place and are taking a stroll. This land, which is about a thousand yards wide and just as long, is surrounded on all sides by four lovely hills. The lushness of the greenery and the blooming flowers in the center is a sight to behold. In this natural garden, wildflower trees are seen in abundance, among which countless rose bushes are intermingled, and not a single one is without beautiful buds and blossoms. In the middle, three large waterfalls flow gracefully. It is the rainy season; water cascading down the hills from all sides is surging into these waterfalls. On the eastern side, at the base of the hill, these three waterfalls merge into one, and the water—greater than usual—falls into a pit and disappears to who knows where. Here...

The air here is so pure and invigorating that even a person suffering from illness for years would become healthy within two days, and one could never tire of wandering these grounds.

In the very center stands a grand and splendid building. Yet, despite its immaculate cleanliness and every modern comfort, it still appears to belong to a bygone era. In front of this building is a small, beautiful stepwell, around which the land seems even more enchanting, with flowers and plants thoughtfully arranged in their proper places.

This building is neither desolate nor forlorn. It is home to fifteen or twenty young, beautiful women. See, in this pleasant evening hour, they have all come out of the house, strolling about the grounds, savoring the joys of life. All are cheerful, their gait full of youthful grace, plucking flowers and playfully tossing them to one another.

Our young hero, Kunwar Indrajit Singh, too, is strolling hand in hand with a lovely maiden on the eastern side of the stepwell. Amidst laughter and playful banter, they have forgotten all cares of the world.

Now, tired from their walk, the two sit down upon a beautiful marble slab by the edge of the stepwell, and their conversation begins—

Indrajit Singh: "Madhavi, I cannot rid myself of this doubt. Are you truly the same maiden I saw that day, swinging in the jungle by the banks of the Ganga?"

Madhavi: "You ask me this question every day, and I have already sworn to you the truth, yet alas, you do not believe me."

Indrajit Singh (glancing at a ring): "There seems to be some difference from the likeness in this portrait."

Madhavi: "That is the fault of the artist."

Indrajit Singh: "Be that as it may, you have still managed to captivate me completely."

Madhavi: "Yes, that is true, but it was you who sought me out!"

Indrajit Singh: "If I had not made the effort, would you have brought me here by force?"

Madhavi: "Let it be, I admit that you have done me a favor, that is all!"

Indrajit Singh (laughing): "Indeed, I have done you a favor by giving you both my heart and soul."

Madhavi (blushing and lowering her head): "Please, let it be, do not try to justify yourself any further!"

Indrajit Singh: "Very well, let us leave these matters aside and remember your promise! What day is it today? I will not rest until I have heard your full story, no matter what. But remember, I remind you once again of those solemn oaths I have made you swear so many times—never lie to me, or you will regret it."

Madhavi (after thinking for a while): "Very well, just for today, forgive me once more—"

There is no one in this world I trust more than you, and I swear by your name that tomorrow, whatever you ask, I will tell you everything truthfully—I will hide nothing. (Looking up at the sky) Now the time has come; please grant me leave for two hours.

Indrajit Singh (with a deep sigh): "Well, let it be tomorrow, then. Go, but do not take more than two hours."

Madhavi rose and went inside the house. After she left, Indrajit Singh was left alone and began to ponder: Who is this Madhavi? Does she have any elder or guardian? Why does she hide her circumstances? Where does she go for two or three hours every morning and evening, and whom does she meet? There is no doubt that she loves me, but it is strange that she keeps me imprisoned here. No matter how beautiful and enchanting this land may be, my heart grows restless here. What can I do? No solution comes to mind, and I see no way out. It is impossible to climb over the mountain and escape, and my heart cannot accept that I should somehow distress her and achieve my own ends, for I have already given my life to her.

Thinking over such matters, his heart became restless. He stood up in agitation and began to stroll here and there to distract himself. The water of the spring was crystal clear; the small, colorful pebbles at the bottom and the swift-moving fish could be seen plainly. Absorbed in observing these, he wandered along the bank and went far, reaching the place where the three springs converged, and the