Shiv had always loved the dusty, neglected corners of old libraries. There was something about forgotten books that called to him, as though each one was a secret waiting to be rediscovered.

It was a rainy afternoon when he stumbled upon the hidden room in his grandfather’s house in Varanasi. Shiv had come to sort through the possessions after his grandfather’s passing — a man known more for his eccentric habits than his worldly success. While exploring the labyrinth of the ancestral haveli, he noticed a hollow sound when he knocked on the back of the prayer room’s panel. Curious, he pried it open and found a tiny, dimly lit chamber lined with decaying shelves.

There, sitting alone on a marble pedestal, was an ancient copy of the Rigveda — its leather binding cracked, its pages yellowed. Shiv lifted it carefully, feeling the weight of time in his hands.

As he flipped through the fragile pages, something odd caught his eye. Tucked between two hymns was a slip of parchment, far newer than the book itself, yet still old. On it, written in deep saffron ink, was a single Sanskrit verse he didn’t recognize. His heart quickened.

“Antah svayam prakashate yatra rahasyam nihitam asti,” it read.

Shiv, a Sanskrit enthusiast, translated it aloud:
“Where the light reveals itself from within, there lies the hidden secret.”

Beneath the verse, a faint symbol was drawn — a lotus surrounded by a sun. He didn’t recognize it from any Vedic text he knew.

Intrigued, Shiv set out to find answers. He took the parchment to Professor Iyer, his old mentor at Banaras Hindu University.

Professor Iyer squinted at the paper through his thick glasses. “This is not ordinary writing,” he said slowly. “It resembles the codes used by certain ancient spiritual sects — groups that believed divine knowledge was hidden in layers, only accessible to the worthy.”

“And this symbol?” Shiv asked eagerly.

The professor tapped the lotus-sun. “This… this was the mark of the Agniveer monks. They believed that spiritual enlightenment came not only through devotion but through deciphering hidden truths buried in sacred texts. They vanished centuries ago.”

Shiv felt a chill, despite the warm afternoon sun.
“What does the verse mean, exactly?”

The professor leaned back, thoughtful.
“It is a map, Shiv, not a location. It suggests that the ‘hidden secret’ isn’t just sitting somewhere. It reveals itself when inner light — awareness — is awakened. You must look deeper.”

Armed with little more than his curiosity and the old Rigveda, Shiv returned to the haveli. He stayed up all night rereading the book, searching for anything that felt out of place. Hours passed. His eyes burned. Then, as he turned a page lit only by a flickering oil lamp, he noticed it — a verse where the ink subtly shimmered under the lamplight. It was invisible under normal lighting.

Shiv read the verse aloud:

“When the flame bows to the lotus thrice, the way shall open.”

Was it metaphorical? Or something physical?

An idea struck him. Near the haveli’s temple courtyard, there was an old stone statue of a lotus — he had seen it countless times as a child. Taking the oil lamp, Shiv rushed outside into the wet night.

The courtyard was slick with rain. The air smelled of earth and jasmine. He found the lotus statue, half-covered in moss. Heart pounding, he bowed the flame towards the lotus once. Twice. Three times.

Nothing happened.

Frustrated, Shiv looked closer. Beneath the statue’s base, almost invisible, was a tiny cavity. Kneeling, he pushed his hand inside — and his fingers brushed against a cold metal object.

He pulled it out: a small bronze amulet in the shape of a lotus encircled by a sun — the same symbol from the parchment.

Inside the amulet was a folded piece of cloth, astonishingly well-preserved. Unrolling it carefully, Shiv discovered a second message, embroidered in ancient script:

“He who seeks outside finds reflections; he who seeks within finds the source. Carry this emblem in meditation — the path shall be revealed.”

Shiv sat back in the wet earth, overwhelmed. He realized this was no ordinary treasure hunt. It was a call to a deeper journey — a spiritual awakening that transcended hidden rooms and secret symbols.

Clutching the amulet, Shiv made a silent promise to honor the path, however long and uncertain it might be.

And somewhere deep within him, a light — long dormant — began to stir.

The next morning, after a restless sleep, Shiv placed the amulet around his neck. He decided to follow the cloth’s advice — he would meditate with the emblem. He cleared the old prayer room, lighting a few incense sticks his grandfather had left behind. The sweet smell of sandalwood filled the air.

Sitting cross-legged with the amulet resting against his chest, Shiv closed his eyes.

At first, his mind wandered — stray thoughts of work, of unfinished responsibilities, of how absurd it all seemed. But slowly, as he focused on the gentle weight of the amulet and the rhythm of his breath, a curious warmth spread from his chest outward, as if the emblem itself was alive.

And then — it happened.

A vivid vision burst into his mind:
A stone temple he had never seen before, hidden deep within a forest, its spire piercing the misty sky. Strange symbols, glowing faintly, adorned its walls. In the center of the temple, a great flame danced without fuel, casting neither heat nor shadow.

The vision was so real Shiv could smell the damp earth, hear the soft murmur of hidden streams. He opened his eyes, gasping for breath.

What had he just witnessed?

He rushed back to Professor Iyer with the details. The old man listened intently, face grave.

“There is a legend,” the professor said, voice hushed, “of the Tejas Mandir — the Temple of Light — built by the Agniveer monks. It was said to exist not in this world alone, but between worlds. Only those who could awaken their inner light could find it.”

He paused.
“Perhaps you have been shown the way, Shiv. But know this — once the path is revealed, it demands everything.”

Shiv felt a mixture of fear and exhilaration.

That night, Shiv packed only essentials — a compass, a torch, a little food — and set off toward the forested hills beyond the city, guided by nothing but instinct and the lingering traces of his vision.

The journey was grueling. Thorns tore at his clothes. The forest floor was treacherous, littered with roots and slippery stones. More than once, Shiv thought of turning back.

But each time despair crept in, the amulet against his heart pulsed faintly, a silent encouragement.

After two days of wandering, exhausted and disheartened, Shiv stumbled into a clearing just as dawn broke. Mist clung to the ground like a living thing.

And there — exactly as in his vision — stood the stone temple, ancient and silent, half-swallowed by vines and time.

Trembling with awe, Shiv approached. Strange symbols lined the entrance, the same as those from the amulet. He pressed the emblem against the door — and with a low, resonant hum, the stone shifted.

Inside, the temple was breathtaking. Walls shimmered with inscriptions that seemed to move when not looked at directly. At its heart, the great flame danced — defying every law of nature.

As Shiv stepped closer, he realized the flame wasn’t consuming anything. It was consciousness — pure, radiant, alive.

He felt every memory, every fear, every regret within him rise — and then melt away in the flame’s light.

Kneeling, Shiv closed his eyes.

And for the first time in his life, he wasn’t seeking answers.
He wasn’t grasping at mysteries.
He was simply being.

The temple pulsed around him — not a building, but a living, breathing entity, resonating with the same light he had felt awakening inside him.

He understood then: the true secret was not hidden in pages, puzzles, or forgotten chambers.

The secret was the discovery of his own eternal self, the part untouched by time, untouched by death.

When Shiv finally opened his eyes, hours or days later — he could no longer tell — the temple was gone.

He was sitting in the clearing, alone, the morning sun warm on his face.

Only the amulet remained, now faintly glowing, as if a spark of the Temple’s flame had made a home in his heart.

He rose to his feet, a quiet smile playing on his lips.

The world looked the same, yet utterly changed.

For Shiv had found what few ever dared to seek — and even fewer dared to embrace:

The secret light within.