Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the Hindu temple, usually a source of comfort, now felt garish, offensive. His brother, Mark, had embraced Hinduism with an enthusiasm that felt like a personal affront.

“It brings me such peace, Ben. You should…” Mark began, but Ben cut him off, his voice tight.

"Peace? You find peace in burning incense and chanting in a language I don’t understand? What about our shared history, our shared identity? It's all gone, isn't it?"

The room seemed to shrink. He felt a pressure building in his head, a headache forming behind his eyes. He wanted to lash out, to scream, to make his brother understand the depth of his pain. He abruptly pushed past Mark and stormed out, the temple bells ringing in his ears like a mocking chorus.