Gemotions

The scent of incense, thick and cloying, hung in the air. His brother, beaming, had invited him to a ceremony, a celebration of his newfound faith in Krishna. He’d reluctantly agreed, only to endure hours of chanting and unfamiliar rituals. Every nod, every shared glance between his brother and the other devotees felt like a deliberate exclusion. He felt a constant, gnawing unease. The vibrant colors, the exotic music, only amplified his sense of alienation. He crossed his arms, the action a rigid defiance, and focused on the ornate carvings on the temple walls, anything to avoid the blinding light of their joy.