Even now, Sanaka’s thoughts were crystal clear in his head. His loyalty to the gods was so resolute that he had had no qualms working alone over the past few decades. The only help he had was from the Alok brothers, his faithful adherents, who had only arrived in Vanyasa a few decades ago. ‘The others don’t deserve Madhu,’ he’d told them.

Now, in his hut, a day before the Mahayatra, Sanaka adjusted his posture. His eyes remained shut. He searched for the first companion that would allow him to get to the animal he wanted to be.

All five Souls in Idhika’s hut had already travelled as individual flies to their designated parts of the valley. Once within sight of their target, Prithvi and Aman made a further jump into squirrels. Ujal too jumped out of his fly self and into a sparrow, and Fayza into an eagle. Idhika, however, was still a fly, waiting to make her final jump.

She hovered above the vastness of Pandayam Tal, a buzzing black dot waiting to spot her eventual companion. It was a while until a fish swam closer to the water’s surface. Idhika caught the sun reflecting off its scales. How different can it be? she thought, and jumped.

Although she secured the connection instantly, Idhika should have waited to open her eyes; her first sight of the world before her was overwhelming and she instantly panicked. Breathing underwater was supposed to come naturally to her current form, but it felt like flailing around and clutching at straws. She felt weighed down in the swarm of movement around her. A snake swam past, and Idhika jerked around in shock. Rays of sunlight refracting through the water seemed to be mocking her. To steady herself, Idhika kicked her legs and tried to part the water with her arms, but her dull brown tilapia self only moved forward a few inches.

Minimal thinking was key to Idhika’s survival, she realized. It took the sight of another fish—a yellow one—to distract her and allow her to breathe. This other fish uncharacteristically dove towards the lakebed, sending every creature in its path into a tizzy.

Unknown to both fishes was the knowledge of who possessed the other. As it happened, Sanaka had found himself a yellow catla. They passed each other as trains on opposite tracks, Sanaka making straight for his destination. Unlike his younger counterpart, he knew exactly where to go.

Idhika had no time to waste. The lake must have been at least a kilometre in width, but Idhika searched fast, diving just deep enough to scan the clusters of pickerelweed growing on the edges and even scouring ditches covered by dead logs or reeds.

Maybe it was her ineptitude as an underwater navigator, but she felt extremely sluggish. In fact, swarms of tiny fish and worms swam all around her at great speed. Loose strands of algae danced in the water as she passed. Even the water snails, some pink and some black, could be seen moving on the lakebed. No, wait! Snails don’t move that fast. She had to look again. They were, it seemed, being pushed away by something.