As the steam from the tea curled into the air, Marcus settled into the comfortable chair across from Hamood. The old man studied him with a knowing gaze, his fingers tracing the rim of his delicate porcelain cup.
"You are curious," Hamood said with a smile. "You feel Ganesha within you, yet you wonder how he came to be here, bound to a mere statue, waiting for someone like you."
Marcus nodded, patting his belly absentmindedly. "Yeah, I guess I never thought about how a god could be… trapped."
Hamood sipped his tea before placing the cup down gently. "It is an old tale, passed down among those who have guarded this place. Ganesha, as you know, is a god of wisdom, prosperity, and obstacles—both the placing of them and the removal. But there was a time when even he could not remove the obstacle before him."
Marcus leaned forward, intrigued. He could feel a gentle stirring within him, as if Ganesha himself was listening.
Hamood continued, "Long ago, in an age where gods walked freely, there were those who feared Ganesha's influence. They saw his power as too great, his wisdom too vast. A sect of envious sages, seeking dominion over fate itself, sought to bind him. They devised a ritual—one of immense complexity and dark intent. A prison not of chains or walls, but of reverence twisted into confinement. They captured his essence in a grand idol, a statue meant to honor him, but instead became his cage."
Marcus shuddered. "How could that even work? How do you trap a god?"
Hamood exhaled deeply. "By using the very faith of his followers against him. The sages convinced entire villages to worship the idol, to pour all their devotion into it. But they crafted the rituals so that each prayer, each offering, did not empower Ganesha—it sealed him further, binding him to the physical form instead of allowing him to move freely through the cosmos. Over generations, the knowledge of his imprisonment was lost, and the world simply believed the statue to be another sacred relic."
Marcus looked down at his belly, feeling a deep pang of sympathy. "That’s… terrible."
"But fate is not so easily rewritten," Hamood said, his eyes glinting. "Ganesha is, after all, the remover of obstacles. Though bound, he remained patient. He waited for the right soul to come along—someone who would not just worship him, but accept him fully. To break the bonds, he needed more than devotion. He needed someone willing to share his essence, to become one with his spirit. Only then could he begin to walk the world again."
Marcus swallowed, realization dawning. "And that’s why…"
"Yes," Hamood confirmed with a knowing nod. "That is why you were chosen. You did not merely pray to him, you embraced him. You accepted him into yourself. And so, the chains that held him have begun to loosen."
A deep warmth surged through Marcus, and he felt Ganesha stir within him once more. The god’s voice, deep and amused, rumbled from within.
Patience, my vessel. The journey has only just begun.
Marcus exhaled, both awed and overwhelmed. He looked up at Hamood, who grinned knowingly.
"So," the old man said, pouring another cup of tea. "Shall we see just how far this path takes you?"
Marcus smiled, resting his hands on his belly. "Yeah… let’s find out."
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