In the hush of a summer monsoon night, the Mehraangarh stepwell becomes a cathedral of still water and whispered creatures. The soft chirp of nightingales glides over the distant chorus of frogs, their calls rippling across the tiled pools where water reflects the crescent moon. A lone frog's croak draws near, intimate and unhurried, inviting sleep without urgency. Monsoon-bathed air carries the scent of wet stone and jasmine, wrapping the soul like a mother's dupatta. For those who rest beside