"Soothed"
Julia Langenberg
An unexpectedly peaceful world emerged beyond the clogged, honking streets as we passed through the gates of the Baha'i House of Worship in New Delhi, India. The dusty air rolled away as the cascading plains of emerald grass and landscaped grounds were parted by a tiled concrete walkway leading to the central point-the modern lotus flower temple with 27 petals blossoming toward the sky. As we approached the smooth, concrete structure, countless venders corrupted the compliant air, applying pressure for a sale. My impatience was suspended as we gazed into the pools below and removed our shoes just outside of the entryway.
I felt like an ant as I entered the lotus flower. A breathless silence filled the expanse before me as my eyes ascended toward the glowing crest of the ceiling. The hardened petals converged high above to reveal a magnificent golden star design hovering above the echoing serenity. I sank into the marble seated benches beneath me. My back rested against the support of the intricately carved wooden back that formed a semi-circle around a pulpit at the front of the worship area.
Streams of light melted through the openings of the external petals, leaving radiating sunbeams surrounding the internal structure. Hushed whispers and footsteps softly echoed, slowly reverberating against the rounded walls before drifting between the floor and angled ceiling. The muted sounds swirled around me as my body slowed to rest within the temple. Even the gardens outside breathed and bathed in the luminous stillness.
And I was soothed.