I stepped into Bhaktapur Durbar Square, and my breath was taken away. Those visiting Nepal often skip this heritage site for the stunning mountain vistas, but a history buff like me was as excited as a kid unwrapping a present.

　　The intricate carvings seemed like an ancient jewel box that had come to life. Ornate wooden structures reached skyward, their tiered roofs adorned with gleaming golden finials. Stone statues of gods and kings stood as silent sentinels, their weathered faces hinting at centuries of history. Erase the few billboards and mobile shops from your vision and you could be standing in a medieval city teeming with life. Thanks to the Chinese, the rebuilding of this city after the earthquake has been spectacular.

　　As I wandered around the square, my mind drifted to the rich past of this remarkable place. Bhaktapur was once the glittering capital of the Malla kingdom, a powerful dynasty that ruled the Kathmandu Valley for over 300 years. Founded in the 12th century by King Ananda Malla, the city grew into a vital hub along the ancient trade route between India and Tibet. Subsequent rulers, like Yaksha Malla and Bhupatindra Malla, continued to expand and embellish Bhaktapur. Each left their mark through grand building projects and artistic patronage. With its five-tiered roof, the towering Nyatapola Deval Temple stood as a testament to their vision and craftsmanship.

　　My family, impatient to reach Pokhara, was trailing behind me with indulgent smiles. They bear with me on the condition that the next day, I will bear with their adventures and participate in a few of them. Meanwhile, I could sit here, in this old town, forever.

　　They rolled their eyes as I prattled on about how this square had witnessed the rise and fall of empires. The Malla dynasty gave way to the Shahs, then the Ranas. Each era brought new influences, yet the heart of Bhaktapur's heritage endured. As I gazed at the Golden Gate of the palace, its gilt metalwork glowing in the afternoon sun, I felt a profound connection to the countless others equally awed by its magnificence. How many merchant caravans carrying fine muslin and cotton, spices and clothes, swords and ornaments would have passed through these streets on their way to Tibet? How many Chinese pilgrims would have stopped to have a few days of rest here on their way to the land of the Buddha?

　　As I continued my exploration, an unexpected realisation struck me. The intricate wooden carvings and multi-tiered roofs of Bhaktapur's temples bore a striking resemblance to the wooden temples I had seen in Kerala, thousands of miles away in southern India. The ornate details, the sloping roofs, and the overall architectural style seemed to echo across the vast distance.

　　I found myself pondering this strange connection. How could two places, separated by such a great expanse of land and distinct cultural influences, share such similar design elements? One was the child of mountains, and the other, the bride of the seas.

　　Experts may differ and point fine differences, but to my untrained eyes, the resemblances are too striking to be mere quirky coincidences of history. Perhaps it spoke to some ancient, shared heritage or artistic exchange that had long been forgotten. My reflective mood deepened as I wandered through the narrow lanes branching out from the main square. Each turn revealed new marvels—the Vatsala Temple with its sandstone walls, the imposing statue of Bhupatindra Malla atop a stone column, and the delicate beauty of the Siddhi Laxmi Temple.

　　The Golden Gate, a masterpiece of repoussé art, held my gaze for long moments with its intricate metalwork depicting deities and mythical creatures.

　　As the day waned and after I had finished the visit to the 55-window palace, I sat on the steps of an ancient water tank, watching the play of light on the aged stones. The square buzzed with a mix of locals going about their daily lives and fellow tourists drinking in the sights. Past and present seemed to blur at this moment.

　　As I sat there, my mind wandered to another architectural marvel I had visited years ago—the Padmanabhapuram Palace in Travancore, Kerala. The similarities with the 55 Window Palace and Padmanabhapuram Palace were striking. Of course, Padmanabhapuram Palace is much bigger, but both structures boasted intricate wooden carvings, tiled roofs, ornate pillars, and a harmonious blend of form and function. The craftsmanship in both places spoke of a shared aesthetic sensibility despite being separated by thousands of kilometres.

　　The more I pondered, the more connections I saw. The vibrant masks and elaborate costumes of Nepal's festivals reminded me of the Theyyam and Bhuta Kala rituals of North Kerala and Tulu Nadu. The swirling patterns, the bold colours, the air of mysticism—all seemed to echo each other across the vast expanse of the Indian subcontinent.

　　I found myself speculating about ancient trade routes, shared cultural influences, or common ancestral traditions. Was it the Chinese influence, one through the sea and the other through the mountain passes? The possibility of such deep-rooted connections between these distant regions was intriguing and humbling. It highlighted how much of our shared history remains unexplored.

　　As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the ancient square, I felt a renewed appreciation for the complex tapestry of cultures that make up this part of the world. Whether in Nepal or Kerala, each thread seemed to be part of a larger, intricate design that continues to evolve and inspire to this day.

　　These unexplored connections invite us to look deeper into our shared history. They challenge us to question our preconceived notions about cultural boundaries and inspire us to seek out the common threads that bind us.

　　From the intricate woodwork of Bhaktapur's temples to the similar craftsmanship found in Kerala's palaces, from the vibrant festivals of Nepal to the ritualistic performances of North Kerala, stories are waiting to be unravelled.

　　As travellers, we often seek the exotic and the different. Yet, sometimes, the most profound discoveries lie in recognising the familiar in the foreign. With its medieval charm and rich history, Bhaktapur offers a glimpse into Nepal's past and a mirror reflecting the vast and varied cultural landscape of the Indian subcontinent.

　　I walked back to the car, where my family waited. The next day was for adventure, but Bhaktapur kept me under its spell.