Whispers of Eternity

 Whispers of Eternity

Writer: Vijay Madan

Photo: Vijay Madan

Vijay Madan sat cross-legged in the heart of the Khajuraho temple, the cool stone beneath him grounding him as he entered a deep meditative state. It was 2013, and his journey to this ancient city wasn’t just a visit—it was a pilgrimage of the soul. As a teacher, philosopher, and artist, Vijay had long sought the deeper connections between human sexuality, spiritualism, and psychology. His studies at Delhi University had prepared him academically, but nothing could have prepared him for the profound experience he was about to have within the walls of this timeless temple.

The air was thick with history, as though every breath he took was shared with the artisans who had carved the intricate sculptures thousands of years ago. Each statue, each carving, felt alive—more than just stone, they seemed to pulse with an energy that transcended time. The sculptures were not just frozen depictions of life; they were echoes of something eternal, something cosmic.

As Vijay closed his eyes, he felt himself slipping away from the material world. His breath became shallow, and the sounds of the temple—the faint whispers of wind, the distant call of birds—faded into nothingness. He was entering a state of deep meditation, a place where the boundaries between the self and the universe dissolved.

The sculptures around him began to shift in his mind’s eye. One in particular stood out—the graceful figure of a young woman holding a child close to her chest. Her expression was serene, yet there was a depth of emotion in her eyes that spoke of timeless love, of hope for the future. The child, nestled in her arms, gazed up at her, unaware of the divine connection that surrounded them.

Vijay’s consciousness began to unravel. He was no longer just a man sitting in a temple; he was becoming part of something much larger. He felt his soul merging with the ancient energy of the temple, his body dissolving into the same stone from which the sculptures were carved. Time no longer existed. There was no past, no future—only an infinite now.

In this state of zero consciousness, Vijay experienced a profound vision. The woman with the child stepped down from her pedestal. Her body, which moments ago had been cold stone, was now warm, alive. She moved with an elegance that defied the laws of nature, her steps silent as she approached him. The child in her arms laughed softly, the sound like the chime of temple bells, pure and innocent.

Vijay was frozen in awe. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t move—he could only watch as the woman knelt beside him. She placed the child in his lap, her hands lingering for a moment, as though entrusting him with something precious.

“The future lies in your hands,” she whispered, her voice like the rustle of leaves, like the murmur of a distant river. “Hey is not just a child—he is hope. He is the bridge between what was and what will be.”

The child looked up at Vijay, his eyes wide and filled with a wisdom far beyond his years. Vijay’s heart swelled with emotion. He realized that this child was not just a symbol of the future, but of all humanity’s potential. He was the embodiment of life itself—the innocence of birth, the passion of youth, the wisdom of old age, all wrapped into one tiny form.

The woman smiled gently and rose, her form beginning to fade back into the shadows of the temple. The child remained in Vijay’s arms for just a moment longer before he, too, began to dissolve into the air, becoming one with the timeless energy that filled the temple.

And then, there was nothing.

Vijay sat alone once more, his eyes still closed, his mind returning to the present. But something had changed. He no longer felt like an individual, separate from the world around him. He had touched something infinite, something that transcended the human experience. He had experienced the vastness of time and space, the interconnectedness of all things.

As he slowly opened his eyes, the sculptures around him once again appeared as they had before—cold, still, carved from stone. But to Vijay, they were no longer mere representations of the past. They were alive, eternal, vibrating with the energy of all those who had ever lived and loved.

The woman with the child, though once again frozen in time, had left a mark on his soul. He understood now that life was not about clinging to the past or fearing the future—it was about embracing the present, the eternal now, and recognizing that we are all part of something much greater than ourselves.

Vijay stood, feeling lighter than he ever had before. As he left the temple, the moon hung high in the sky, its light casting a gentle glow over the ancient stones. He looked up at it, feeling a sense of peace and connection, knowing that the same moon had watched over this temple for centuries, just as it would continue to do for centuries to come.

The future, he realized, was not something distant and unreachable. It was here, now, in every moment, in every breath. And just like the woman and her child, it was waiting to be held, nurtured, and cherished.

As he walked away from the temple, Vijay felt as though he had touched eternity—and in that eternity, he had found himself.