Iman's POV
"Yes, it is old," Almeida said. "It was built by Maharaja Pratap Singh. He gifted it to a close friend of his who is buried here. That friend came to Kashmir during the 1857 revolt and passed away in 1916. After his death, the Maharaja closed the library, forbidding anyone from entering. He didn't want anyone who couldn't understand or respect this place—so close to his friend's heart—to step inside. They say he used to come often, but would stop at the gate, salute, and leave. Even he never went inside again after Raza's death."
Raza?
Ahad and I turned our heads at the same time, startled.
Without turning back, as if he could feel our confusion behind him, Almeida added,
"The friend for whom the library was built."
He sighed and turned left, walking slowly through the vast space of the library.
"Okay, let me explain again. The library was built by Maharaja Pratap Singh—he was deeply fond of art and literature. Then, in 1857, The Golden Warrior, Raza, was brought to Kashmir from Sitapur along with his wife, Yasmeen Ali. When a warrior like him arrived on this land, the Maharaja offered him residence in his palace—which Raza refused. Still, as a gesture of hospitality, the Maharaja had an old Sheesh Mahal on the Zabarwan Hills restored for him. Later, when their friendship deepened, he gifted this library—Khwab-e-Danish—to him."
Almeida looked up at the ornate ceiling and then around at the arches.
"So that's why it's named so," I remarked softly.
"Yes," Almeida nodded.
"Then how is it in our school?" Ahad asked, frowning.