The village was alive with voices—women bargaining at the market, children running through the narrow lanes, men returning from the fields. But amidst this noise, Arjun felt only silence within, a silence heavy and aching.
He often sat alone by the riverside, staring at the endless ripples. Sometimes he wondered if the river carried secrets he could not hear, truths whispered only to those who dared to listen.
On the surface, his life was ordinary. He was the son of a farmer, known by everyone in the village, bound by duty and tradition. Yet, when he lay awake at night, staring at the stars, something inside him asked:
"Who am I, beyond these names, beyond this body?"
That question haunted him. The laughter of his friends, the scolding of his father, even the warmth of his mother's affection—none of it could drown that inner voice.
One evening, as the sun dipped low and painted the sky in shades of fire and gold, a wandering monk walked past the riverbank. His robes were worn, his feet dusty, but his eyes—his eyes were still pools, untouched by time.
Arjun felt a shiver, as though the river itself had paused in reverence.
The monk stopped, looked directly into Arjun's eyes, and spoke softly:
"Child, are you ready to walk the path within?"
The words pierced Arjun's heart. He had no answer, yet he knew something had begun.
That night, as the village slept, Arjun lay awake. The monk's voice echoed in his mind, blending with the restless whisper of the stars. A decision stirred inside him—one that would change his life forever .