Once we fade into the darkness, we all seek to emerge into a shiny light that will erode away our hardened cicatrises. However, despite our best attempts, the remnants of the scars are embalmed in every nook and cranny of our inner being. In the deep recesses of my constructed reality, I delve for the clue that will provide a glimmer of light in the search for Vilochana.
Down the trodden path of wet leaves on a frosty spring day, I wander in an uneven manner staring at strangers. These strangers don’t have the answers that will finally bring an end to this quest. Throughout this intrinsic excavation, I encounter cryptic messages that seem to give a foreboding emanating from a dimension that is yet unexplored. I wonder if this dimension can ever deliver me from this fatigue that has been accumulating. Will I be able to drift away in this galling wind? Will I finally discover Vilochana?
Staring into the vastness of space, I am engulfed by the towering waves of a future, that can be seen only through the perspective of a child in the divine lap. I remember providing guidance to beings that are from the netherworld, and yet I am the one who is the seeker and the watcher in this cosmic game of intertwined identities. My very being is exulting at the thought of discovering Vilochana.
Writing this from a cell is not a feat that is reserved for beings who are antecedently meant to survive in the universal fauna. Nonetheless, seeing this inversion of reality has transcended the very essence of my existence. And yet here I am, still unable to discover Vilochana.
Meandering in the wilderness, my solitude provides the warmth of an uneasy sunshine that seeps through the fissures of a false door that hovers beyond the sea and the skyline.
In this symbolic voyage of eclecticism, the wanderer suddenly pauses, and the accepted yet conditioned truth, finally dawns on him; Vilochana comes into existence only once every 5000 years.
This devastating realisation prompts me to ask you the reader:
Can Vilochana really be discovered?