In the ancient city of Varanasi, where time flows as eternally as the Ganges, stories are often indistinguishable from myths. But some stories persist—not in books or scriptures, but in hushed whispers.
One such tale was that of the Shunya Mandir—the Temple of Nothingness. It was said to have been built before Kashi itself, yet no one knew its location. Some claimed it was invisible, hidden between the folds of reality. Others swore it had been swallowed by time itself, leaving no trace.
The Hidden Passage
Aarav Mishra, a young archaeologist, had spent years chasing myths, but this one was different. It wasn’t just a legend—it was calling him.
While researching ancient texts in the library of the Sankat Mochan Temple, he found a forgotten manuscript. It spoke of a lost temple that could only be found when the world stood still. The last recorded mention was from 1528, when a priest had entered the temple and never returned.
That night, the city was alive with the echoes of temple bells, but Aarav had no interest in the festivities. He followed the clues deep into the heart of the old city, his path leading him to an abandoned shrine near Manikarnika Ghat.
There, beneath a crumbling idol of Lord Shiva, he noticed something—a stone with inscriptions in an ancient Prakrit dialect. As he brushed away centuries of dust, the moonlight revealed a phrase:
“Only in silence shall the path be revealed.”
Holding his breath, Aarav closed his eyes.
The world around him shifted.
The Temple Between Time
When he opened his eyes, he was no longer in modern Varanasi. The streets, once filled with traffic and neon lights, were now lined with oil lamps and chariots. The air smelled of sandalwood and incense. It was Kashi—but not the Kashi he knew.
A woman in flowing silks stood before him. Her eyes held the weight of centuries.
“You have stepped into the realm of Shunya Mandir,” she whispered. “Few have found their way here. Fewer have left.”
Aarav turned. Behind him stood a grand temple, its structure defying logic. It seemed to stretch in all directions and none at all. The walls pulsed like a living being. The entrance was open—waiting for him.
He stepped forward.
Inside, the temple was unlike anything he had seen before. It had no idols, no murals, no pillars—only endless emptiness. The silence was deafening.
Then, a voice not of this world spoke:
“To enter is to be erased. To leave is to forget. Choose.”
Aarav felt his memories drifting. Who was he? Why was he here? His name, his past, his very existence—dissolving like sand in the wind.
The Escape
With sheer willpower, Aarav turned away from the abyss. He ran—through the temple, through time itself—until he felt the cold ground beneath him again.
When he woke, he was back in modern Varanasi. The shrine was gone. The passage had vanished.
But something had changed.
His palm bore a strange mark—a perfect black circle. The symbol of Shunya Mandir.
And in the depths of Kashi, the temple still waited—for the next seeker.