Maya,Mara and lokas

blues. The Ganges was still and silent, the ebb and flow of its waters a

ditated in the small garden by the river. Maya watched her grandmother for a moment

rizon and paint the sky with its inimitable orange and pink hues. Maya felt her

shoreline, Maya felt the coolness of the river as it caressed her feet. She looked up to see a large

face. Her grandmother had made her way to the riverbank and was stan

nd of the boat's engine, its low humming providing a gentle rhythm to their journey. As they sailed, Maya looked around in

s grandmother tied up their boat and began to pluck lotuses from a nearby pond. S

es with care...these would eventually be transported back home t

to beautiful garlands that she sold near the temple with her grandmother's blessing. With each sale, May

he banks of river Ganges, enriched with a new appreciat