Young Hindu SHRINE Attendant Abandons the IDOLS – …
Young Hindu SHRINE Attendant Abandons the IDOLS – …
Morning came softly, like a secret the world was not ready to tell. The first touch of light slid over the hills, quiet and slow, spilling across the rooftops of our village until it reached the temple walls.
I could hear the bells even before I opened my eyes. Their deep, steady rhythm rising through the mist, calling me to begin again.
Every day started this way. The same sound, the same steps, the same purpose. I rose from my mat before the others stirred.
The stone beneath my feet was cold, but I had long learned not to notice.
I tied my robe, gathered the brass bowl filled with rose petals and rice, and stepped into the narrow corridor that led to the shrine of Davy Versa, the goddess I had served since I was old enough to walk.
The temple stood like an ancient mountain of stone and silence. Every wall was carved with stories of gods and demons, victories and punishments.
Oil lamps flickered along the parts, their flames trembling against the breath of morning wind.
The air carried the scent of sandalwood and burnt incense, sweet at first, then heavy, as if the smell itself held a thousand unspoken prayers.
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