Diary Entry No-4034


February 21, 2021

                    I am lost! But I don't want to be found either. I don't know what it is, but I feel familiar with this place though I visit it for the first time. These episodes of deja -vu are driving me mad. A few moments back, I was savoring the taste of rich Indian culture and heritage in the flexible, fluid, and charismatic moves of the dancers; it was an honor to attend the world-famous Khajuraho Dance Festival, the dancers, their colorful costumes were entirely complimenting their expressions and eyes burning with passion. Still, when that magic lifted, I was in a different realm, i.e., in the temple complex where every stone, every pillar, every sculpture of Khajuraho has something to tell me; a story that only I could understand, a story that was written just for me on the faces of the statues that are looking at me with kindness and affection as if I am their very own. Those welcoming devadasis, those divine deities, the portrayal of ordinary life is dragging me back to an unknown era, it seems. I am in trans; those sculptures aren't just sculptures anymore; they give me an illusion of being living, and then when I touched the carvings, I felt an electric shock, thousands of bells started ringing. I guess I was the only person listening to those sounds. When I was about to go insane with all those things happening to me, I heard a whisper, an angelic voice of a lady, which said, "calm down, you are safe and secure, leave your worries behind, you are loved." The voice was so soporific that I went into a deep sleep and everything around me stopped.

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