Shadows moved hauntingly across the barren terrain amid the menacing clouds. Thunder roared like a displeased giant, trembling the earth’s foundations as she sat crying and gazing upon the Shivling.
Silent sobs echoed the space, which served as a testament to the burden she carried within. Suddenly, a gentleman appeared by her side, wearing a dhoti and a janeu. His eyes gleamed in a soft glow, as if they held wisdom of ages. He smiled and handed her a bel patra.
She rested the bel patra upon the shivling, and her tears ceased with the newfound calm. In the silent stillness, a sudden melody reverberated through the temple: “Hari om tat sat!”
Looking around for the mysterious outsider, all she saw was nothing but space and a lone Morpankh swaying at the entrance to the temple.
The once-raging storm gave way to calm, and the soft repeat of “Hari Om tat sat” remained in her ears as a soft reminder of the holy meeting. With a smile, she embraced the echoes of the divine, etching a moment of deep connection in the fabric of her aura.
-