I flipped through the pages of my father's journal, trying to piece together the last project he had worked on before he passed away. Finally, I found it. He had been part of an excavation of an ancient Vishnu temple, one that belonged to the Vijayanagara Empire. As I read further, I discovered that during the excavation, the team had unearthed a remarkable collection of artifacts, important scripts, and various other historical items. The excavation team included my dad, Mahadev, and three others: Srinivastav, Jagadeesh, and Rudra.

The more I read, the more intrigued I became, yet frustrated as well. While the journal mentioned the project, it didn’t go into much detail about the people involved, nor did it offer any insight into the artifacts they had uncovered. Determined to learn more, I made up my mind to visit the archaeology office first thing in the morning.

After closing my father's room behind me, I retreated to my own room, my mind still racing with thoughts of what I had just read. I decided to take a shower, hoping the warm water would help clear my head. As it streamed over me, washing away the grime and sweat from my earlier run, I found myself trying to recall everything I knew about the Vijayanagara Empire and the significance of the Vishnu temple. The discovery sounded monumental, yet there was something unsettling about how little information I could find.

Still preoccupied with these thoughts, I stepped out of the shower and dried off. I knew that finding out more about the excavation could be the key to understanding my father’s last days, maybe even his sudden death.

I scrolled through every piece of information I could find online about the Vishnu temple excavation. The historical significance and mystery surrounding it consumed my thoughts, but exhaustion finally caught up with me. I was suddenly jolted awake by the persistent ringing of the doorbell. Groggy and irritated, I stumbled to the door and opened it to find my friend, Raghu, standing there with a wide grin.

"Hello!" he greeted cheerfully, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation and casually sitting down on the sofa as if it were his own home. He grabbed a newspaper from the table and flipped through the pages.

"Man, go get freshened up. We need to head to the archaeology office. One of my friend work there, and he’ll help us out," he said nonchalantly while still skimming the headlines.

I rubbed my temples, feeling the weight of fatigue but also the sense of urgency tugging at me. "Thanks, buddy," I muttered, grateful for his support but not quite ready to show it.

Without wasting any more time, I went to get ready. By the time I emerged, dressed and more awake, Raghu was still lounging, completely immersed in the paper.

"All set?" he asked, finally glancing up.

"Yeah, let’s go."

We hopped into Raghu’s car and made our way to the archaeology office. My mind raced with possibilities about what we might uncover. When we arrived, Raghu’s friend was already waiting for us near the entrance. He was tall, with an easy smile that made him seem approachable.

Raghu greeted him with a warm hug, "Vihaan, meet my friend Veer," Raghu said, turning to me. "Veer, this is Vihaan."

Veer extended his hand toward me, and I shook it firmly. "Nice to meet you, Vihaan. Raghu told me a bit about what you’re looking for," he said.

"Likewise, and thanks for taking the time to help us," I replied, feeling a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, we would find the answers I was desperately searching for.

Veer gave a reassuring nod and gestured for us to follow him inside. The atmosphere in the office was subdued, with the faint hum of computers and the occasional murmur of conversations in the background. We followed him into his small but organized cabin.

"So, how can I help you?" Veer asked, settling into his chair, his hands folded on the desk, a slight curiosity in his eyes.

“I need complete information on the people who worked on the Vishnu temple excavation in 1996,” I said, leaning forward, hoping to convey just how important this was to me.

Veer raised his eyebrows slightly. “1996? That’s really old. It might take some time to dig through those records,” he said, already frowning as he considered the task.

“But it’s urgent, Veer. This is really important to me,” I pleaded, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice.

He sighed, glancing at me for a moment before nodding. "Alright, wait. I’ll check what we have." He turned to his computer, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he entered the relevant details into the system.

For a moment, there was only the soft hum of the computer. Then he frowned at the screen. "The file isn’t in the digital database," he said after a minute. "We’ll have to search manually in the records room."

Raghu, sensing my disappointment, placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "It’s okay, Vihaan. We’ll figure something out," he said with his usual optimism.

I nodded, though my mind was already spinning with thoughts of dead ends. We thanked Veer for his help and stepped out of the office.

As we walked out, Raghu turned to me. “Hey, there’s a central library nearby. They might have some old archives or materials. We should check it out.”

I blinked, momentarily annoyed at myself for not thinking of that earlier. "Of course! Why didn’t I think of that?" I said, shaking my head. Without wasting any time, we headed to the library.

The library itself was a relic of the past, with worn wooden furniture and the faint smell of old paper lingering in the air. Behind the desk sat a man in his 60s, engrossed in reading a newspaper. The library was quiet, save for the occasional sound of pages turning.

“Excuse me,” I said as I approached the man. He looked up slowly, adjusting his glasses.

"Yes?" he asked, his voice gruff but not unfriendly.

"Where can I find old newspapers?" I inquired.

He scrutinized us for a moment before pointing in the direction. "Go straight, take a left, and on your right, you’ll find them."

"Thanks," I said, but before he could return to his newspaper, Raghu jumped in.

"Do you have any books or materials related to the Vishnu temple excavation in 1996?" Raghu asked, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the urgency.

The librarian’s gaze shifted suspiciously between us, clearly wondering why two young men were so keen on something from so long ago. "I’m a reporter," Raghu added quickly, pulling out his ID. "I’m covering a story on artifact thefts and need the information for research."

The librarian hesitated, still not fully convinced, but gave a slight nod. “Follow me,” he said, standing up and leading us to a shelf filled with dusty old books. He stopped and pointed at a particular row. "You might find something here."

"Thank you," Raghu and I said in unison, watching as he disappeared back into the corner.

Once he was out of sight, I turned to Raghu. "Alright, I’ll check through the books here. You take a look at the newspapers and see if anything from 1996 turns up," I suggested.

"Got it," Raghu nodded, heading off to the newspaper archives while I started sifting through the books. Luckily, they were arranged by year, which made my search a lot easier.

After a few minutes of scanning titles, I found what I had been looking for—a thick volume that contained records from 1996. My excitement rose as I pulled it out and began flipping through its pages. But after skimming through most of it, my heart sank. The book was filled with details about the artifacts found during the excavation, but there was nothing about the people involved or any background on the project itself.

Raghu came back empty-handed as well. "Nothing in the newspapers," he said, disappointment etched on his face.

I sighed, feeling the weight of the dead end. "I didn’t find anything either. Just details about the artifacts. No mention of the team or any other leads."

We left the library, both of us feeling the frustration of yet another fruitless search.

Raghu received a call from Veer, asking us to meet him at a café near his office. Without hesitation, we headed straight there. As soon as we walked in, we spotted Veer seated at a corner table, looking as calm as ever with a coffee cup in hand. We approached, and after a brief exchange of greetings, Veer slid a file across the table toward me, his expression unreadable.

With a mixture of anticipation and nervousness, I opened the file and began to flip through the documents inside. As I scanned the pages, a wave of relief washed over me. Finally, there was something solid—something tangible to move forward with.

"Thank you, Veer," I said, my voice carrying the weight of genuine gratitude. "This really means a lot to me." I held up the file for a moment before placing it back on the table, my fingers lingering on the edge of the pages. Veer offered a small smile, his calm demeanor still intact as he took a slow sip of his coffee.

"We’re all trying to help, Vihaan," he said quietly.

We spent a few moments finishing our coffees in a quiet but companionable silence. I was lost in thought, processing the information I had just seen. When we finished, Raghu and I thanked Veer again and left the café, stepping out into the bright sunlight of the busy street.

As we reached the car, Raghu turned to me, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "So, where are we headed next?" he asked.

I opened the file once more, flipping through the pages. "Rudra uncle passed away, and of course, my dad Mahadev is also died," I said, my voice heavy with the weight of those words. I paused for a moment, then continued. "That leaves Jagadeesh and Srinivastav uncle. We'll meet Jagadeesh first." I glanced at Raghu, who nodded silently, before starting the car.

As we drove, Raghu broke the silence, glancing at me with a thoughtful expression. "Do you know Srinivastav and Rudra well? You called them ‘uncle.’"

I nodded, my eyes on the road but my mind elsewhere, lost in the past. "Yeah, they were really close to my dad. They were like extended family, always around when I was growing up. Back then, it was common to call any of my dad’s close friends ‘uncle.’ It was out of respect, but... we lost contact after a while. Life happened, I guess."

Raghu nodded, understanding. "It’s always like that, isn’t it? People drift apart, and before you know it, you haven’t spoken in years."

"Exactly," I said, a hint of regret creeping into my voice.

Soon, we arrived at Jagadeesh’s home, a modest, slightly weathered house in a quiet neighborhood. There was an air of nostalgia as we walked up to the front door, though I hadn’t been here in years. I stepped up and rang the doorbell, feeling a slight unease settle over me as we waited.

After a few moments, the door creaked open, revealing an elderly man. His eyes, sharp and questioning, swept over me and Raghu. He didn’t seem like someone who would be easily swayed by charm or small talk.

"Hello," I said, offering a polite smile. "I’m Vihaan, and this is my friend Raghu. We’re here to meet Jagadeesh."

The man studied us for a moment, his expression hard. "Why do you want to meet him?" he asked, his voice gruff.

"We’re reporters, sir," I replied, my tone respectful but direct. "We’re covering a story about historical excavations, and we’d like to speak with him regarding the Vishnu temple excavation project."

His face darkened at the mention, and there was a brief but telling silence. "You can’t meet him," he finally said, his voice stern and unyielding.

I felt a knot form in my stomach, but I pressed on. "Sir, we just need five minutes," I pleaded, trying to convey the urgency in my voice.

He shook his head, his expression unreadable but firm. "He passed away long ago," the man said bluntly, then without another word, he shut the door in our faces.

I stood there for a moment, processing what had just happened. Another dead end. Raghu sighed beside me, the disappointment evident in his posture.

"Well, that didn’t go as planned," he muttered, breaking the silence.

"No, it didn’t," I agreed, my voice heavy with frustration. I pulled the file back out as we walked back to the car, flipping through the pages again. "That leaves us with only one option—Srinivastav uncle."

I searched through the file, looking for any hint of Srinivastav’s address, but it wasn’t there. "What the hell?" I muttered under my breath, feeling a surge of frustration as I ruffled my hair. How could there be no address? Another obstacle.

Raghu, ever the steady one, placed a hand on my shoulder. "Hey, we’ll figure this out. Don’t worry."

I looked up at him, trying to absorb some of his calm energy, but it was hard not to feel like the walls were closing in. Then, a thought struck me, and my frustration melted into determination. "I know a place," I said, a sudden idea forming. "A place where we can get all the answers I need."

Raghu raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Where’s that?"

"You’ll see,"

I said, my voice steady with resolve. For the first time in what felt like ages, I felt like we might be inching closer to the truth.