Sangye's countenance bore the weight of weariness, and at last, he articulated the curiosity that had

simmered within him. His words, delivered with a touch of impatience, cut through the rhythmic
sounds of their stallions' cantering hooves. "Romaharsana," he began, addressing the venerable sage
riding beside him, "I find myself yearning for insight. Pray, could you illuminate the path to the
fabled forest you so fondly speak of?"
The exhaustion etched across Sangye's face mirrored that of a wanderer in pursuit of respite. His
eyes, a blend of fatigue and yearning, betrayed the silent struggles of a traveler yearning for the
sanctuary promised by the tales of Naimisa. It was as if he had been a captive, deprived of the elixir
of life for days, and the promise of this elusive paradise held the key to his liberation.
Sangye's impatience, however, carried a certain charm—a universal sentiment resonating with all
who embarked on journeys fueled by anticipation and dreams. The allure of the "fancy forest," as
Sangye teasingly referred to it, became a beacon of hope for those seeking solace and wonder
beyond the mundane.
On the banks of the Gomati River, Sangye and Romaharsana beheld a vast expanse of water that
severed two significant lands. The only connection between them was a bridge, its once-sturdy
structure now displaying signs of wear and impending fragility. Stretched across the river, the
bridge extended in length, leaving the travelers to wonder about its endurance.
A contemplative silence hung in the air as they approached the bridge. The stallions, sensing the
tension, trod cautiously as if aware of the delicate balance that held the aged structure together.
Sangye and Romaharsana, with a shared understanding, guided their horses with precision, taking
measured steps to avoid any inadvertent strain on the timeworn planks.
The resonance of hooves echoed against the backdrop of flowing waters, and each moment on the
bridge felt like a delicate dance between the past and the present. As they advanced, the question
lingered: Would the bridge withstand the weight of both travelers and the weight of time, or would
it succumb to the inevitable forces of age? The answer, shrouded in uncertainty, awaited discovery
with each carefully placed hoof on the aged planks.
Romaharsana, wise and composed, met Sangye's gaze with a knowing smile. His response, draped
in the enigmatic wisdom of sages, held the key to unlocking the mysteries of the forest and,
perhaps, the secrets of Sangye's restless soul. The journey, now laden with both weariness and
anticipation, took on a new depth as the stallions continued their rhythmic canter, carrying the
seekers closer to the heart of Naimisa, where tales of enchantment awaited.
"Patience is the key, Sangye," Romaharsana said with gentle wisdom, his smile carrying the weight
of countless experiences. "It is one of the most important lessons bestowed upon you in the
Buddhist temple, is it not? After months of travel, I can assure you, from the perspective of an old
man, that we are closer to our destination than you may imagine."
Hearing this, Sangye couldn't contain his impatience. "Old man, these words make me all the more
restless. Oh, how I wish these horses had wings! We could reach our destination in the blink of an
eye through flight," he exclaimed, revealing his impatience in a playful, almost childish manner.
"Oh, Sangye, you truly have a gift for lightening the spirits with your whimsical musings,"
Romaharsana chuckled.
Sangye, undeterred, defended his thoughts with conviction. "These are not mere childish fantasies,
Romaharsana. Have you not delved into the tales of Buddha's birth? Legend has it that his mother
conceived when a flying elephant with six tusks, assumed the form of the great Buddha in the guise
of a human baby."
Romaharsana's eyes twinkled with a blend of amusement and wisdom as he responded to Sangye's
earnest defense.
"Ah, Sangye, your knowledge of the sacred tales is as vibrant as your imagination. The myths that
intertwine with reality often hold kernels of truth. Perhaps our journey to the fabled forest will
uncover not only the enchantment of Naimisa but also the hidden threads that connect our dreams to
the ancient stories of enlightenment."
Under the dappled sunlight filtering through the ancient trees, Sangye and Romaharsana embarked
on their journey, following the winding tracks that promised to guide them to the heart of Naimisa.
The forest whispered tales of mystique as the sound of the stallions' hooves blended with the natural
symphony of the woods. Each step carried them closer to the center of this fabled realm, where the
culmination of their quest awaited, wrapped in the secrets of the venerable Naimisa forest.
Romaharsana, a venerable sage with a flowing white beard that danced with the breeze, rode
alongside Sangye, a young and spirited disciple eager to absorb the teachings of the universe. Their
stallions, noble and strong, cantered gracefully over the dusty trail, leaving behind a melody of crisp
sounds as their hooves met the crumbly rocks.
The forest, a sanctuary of diverse life, unfolded around them. Trees of different kinds stood tall,
creating a natural tapestry of oak, pine, sal, shisham, teak, amla, sandalwood, palas, and khejri.
Leaves rustled and danced in the wind, occasionally swept away in a playful waltz, as the forest
inhabitants went about their harmonious existence. Deer grazed, wolfs prowled, butterflies adorned
the air, owlets observed from lofty perches, and serpents slithered silently through the undergrowth.
As they approached a clearing, a symphony of life crescendoed, drawing them closer to a
magnificent waterfall. The cascade, with a silent and tranquil flow, possessed a mystical quality.
Legend spoke of its power, promising enlightenment to any ascetic who dared to meditate beneath
its gentle embrace. The water descended gracefully, creating pools where fishes swam in a dance
choreographed by nature.
Moss-covered rocks stood as guardians, directing the everflowing cascade, and as the water
glistened in the sunlight, it seemed to carry the ancient echoes of the forest's wisdom. The air was
thick with the scent of damp earth and the invigorating spray of the waterfall.
Romaharsana and Sangye paused at the edge of this natural wonder, feeling the pulse of the forest,
the heartbeat of creation. The atmosphere was charged with an energy that transcended the
mundane, inviting those who ventured into its embrace to connect with the profound mysteries of
existence.
As time elapsed since their arrival in the forest, Sangye found himself grappling with both hunger
and thirst. Venturing a little further from their original spot, memories of the trials that marked the
beginning of their journey resurfaced. Among the trees, he stumbled upon a cluster of dilapidated
wooden structures, sheltered by straw that still faintly resembled a homestead. Despite the apparent
peace, an eerie silence pervaded the air, devoid of the usual sounds of life - no laughter of children,
no women venturing into the forest, no bustling market, no cow's gentle mooing, and no ascetics
meditating in the serene atmosphere.
Perplexed, Sangye couldn't help but wonder why such a tranquil place had been abandoned. Though
ethical concerns lingered, curiosity prevailed, urging him to explore the forsaken ruins.
"There's nothing here... damn. I can't fathom where the people disappeared to. It seems recently
abandoned, yet the silence suggests otherwise, like years have passed," Sangye mused.
Driven by a mix of frustration and curiosity, he kicked aside the log jamming the front door, causing
the wooden structure to creak open. The vacuum of still air rushed in after what felt like an eternity.
As Sangye stepped inside, the dwelling revealed itself more as a haven for spiders than humans.
Surveying the desolation, he couldn't help but comment, "Well, someone did live here. It's a
mystery as to when, or if, they'll return to human life. The scale of this house is impressive;
constructing such a magnificent wooden dwelling must have taken considerable time."
Traversing the abandoned space proved challenging for Sangye, as the remnants of time clung to
every corner, shrouding the homestead in an air of mystery.
“Now where to even begin? Place smells like crazy coagulated dried leaves...”
Sangye was able to see bits and pieces, as the rays of the sun seeped through the cracks and the gaps
of the house... but it was still not enough for Sangye to clearly discern every objects in the house,
until it was being brought into the light ray.
“A storage container... used to store the spoons used in for cooking food. Some thick mud plates,
obviously served in for some meal after everyday’s hardwork. ”
After lisiting out every common things which he knew during his childhood and used in his daily
life... was quite similar to the owners, but in a very discreet way. Plates that these people used were
of mud, obviously would have used in serving proidge, while he was a well versed experienced
person, who ate in a silver plate, and drank the water from a copper glass.
He picked up few accessories which they might need... in future. As he still thought that the old
dude was kidding when he said that they had reached the forest... there’s had to be something fishy
about the old dude when comes to revealing secret... as it was quite common for the elderly to act
like little kids sometimes... due to brain wiring.
It was not clear, by the way. He saw something, that he sure could not believe his eyes... a
parchment paper found in a broken chest... only the written carved texts. Inscribed in an unreadable
language... Sangye was confused as he initially thought that people here wouldn’t know how to read
and write. But they knew of some script which was quite similar to pali... but was quite different...
in a unique way.