With his right middle finger, which he respectfully brings close to my face, he traces a red dot in the center of my forehead, takes my hands, and recites a mantra. At that precise moment, my whole body vibrates; I feel overwhelmed by an indescribable sensation, as if I had touched, for a split second, nirvana. Composed again from my emotions, we wander through a maze of corridors, passing through a hall where statues with multiple arms, eyes turned toward the sky, seem frozen in time. Worn by years of devotion, prayers, and festivals, the building bears witness to the past. In places, the ceramics, once brightly colored, now show faded, even dull, hues. Far from diminishing its beauty, these marks of time, on the contrary, give it a unique character. Hoping to capture its energy, I slow down, letting my fingers brush the uneven texture of the bas-reliefs. Eyes closed, I feel tiny irregularities, almost like Morse code revealing its secret. Curious, I examine it and detect an oval shape, followed by a smooth space, then a vertical line.