It was another world that mirrored his own, one in which he was the only human. He recalled how Idhika had put it: ‘Once in, you’ll be able to perceive only the existence of the living beings that you can Atmayog to.’

He scanned his surroundings for a companion and momentarily saw a cow approaching from afar. It looked like the animal was being ushered by someone, a human that Aman could not see. Isn’t it easier to Atmayog to bigger animals? He figured the Chatvari Sadhu probably had the cow summoned to aid him.

Of course . . . special assistance for Aman! He knew he had fared poorly in Gurukul, but he didn’t want pity. He was halfway to pulling off a successful Atmayog and he wasn’t going to squander his first attempt on an easy hit. His teacher had to be proved wrong.

To hear the sounds around him, Aman shut his eyes again. After a minute, he managed to discern a faint whisper of the wind between the mountain slopes. The sound of the approaching cow reached him too. Soon, his hearing ability magnified manifold, and he could distinguish flies from mosquitoes in the buzzing that surrounded him.

Something was whirring perceptibly close to him. He centred into the noise of its flapping wings. A glint of sunlight reflected off the fly and pierced through Aman’s closed eyes.

To Atmayog to an animal as small as this was no easy feat, but Aman dove in, focusing ever more intently on the fly. Slowly, he felt his mortal body vibrate, and the vibration continued every two seconds. He took a deep breath to anchor that feeling. And sure enough, his body latched on indefinitely to the vibration until he was bouncing up and down. It took Aman a while to understand that he was finally in control of the fly.

His eyes were forced open. As a fly, his perception of colour was limited, but his range of view was considerably larger than that of a human, and he was alert to the tiniest movements near him. He could see other humans now. He spotted his own body, sitting still under the podium. The Chatvari Sadhu and the rest of the Souls had their eyes fixated on the cow accompanied by a standing yogi.

‘I’M HERE!’ Aman shouted, well aware that he was inaudible. Aman turned himself, the fly, around and darted towards Fayza. He sat on her nose, but she swatted him away, annoyed. Aman realized he could spend his entire life staring at that face—the face that was full of concern for his well-being, that calmed him like no other could, that had lips silently moving in prayer, willing him to succeed.

‘He did it!’ Idhika shouted, pointing. Aman did not know how Idhika had spotted him, but he was glad she had. The entire Gurukul gathering broke into applause, and Idhika wriggled her shoulders, which Aman knew was the Child of the Valley’s way of celebrating. Fayza clapped louder than Ujal, Prithvi, Jagrav and Savitri combined. They all seemed genuinely happy for him. Although Aarti and Payal tried their best to appear nonchalant, relief was clear even on their faces. There was no denying that they all feared the Mahayatra and were glad to have one more Soul on board.