Bathed in the golden rays of the evening sun, the stone temple of Atulya and the lush green forest surrounding it made a breathtaking picture.
The hexagon shaped platform rose twenty feet off the ground, and the six armed deity at the top could be accessed by the steep stairs that were chiseled into the platform on all sides. The deity itself was sculptured out of a different rock; it shimmered both in the presence and absence of light. Whomsoever had created this idol of Atulya, a certain personality had been passed onto it: a magnificent crown, flowing hair, a young smiling face, and a slender body that wore an elegant lower garment, all six hands open palmed to gesture He was blessing His devotees.
Albeit a divine sight, this place was abandoned by man a long time ago. At the same time, it was difficult to explain why the creepers that grew all over the nearby trees did not spread out and invade the temple. It stood as a unique entity, untouched by the wild or the wilderness.
In the forest, the whistles of a peculiar bird found a suitable match in the rhythmic cries of crickets, but stopped abruptly at the sounds of approaching footsteps.
It was Kanha, the prince of Dwaraka, the blue skinned Mahayogi, who had emerged from behind the foliage, and he smiled for he could see what the mortal eye could not.
There were spirals of red light moving around the temple like they had a pulse of their own; the hexagon platform had several cracks which emitted a fiery glow, and through them emerged strange symbols – the metered chants of those priests who had instilled life into the stone idol of Atulya over a thousand years ago. And finally, the deity itself was no longer a calming, divine sight, but a silhouette – a darkness representing undefined energy.