Sukanya Trivedi Anjali stepped off the slow-moving train, the humid air of Kerala immediately wrapping around her like a warm embrace. The station was small, almost forgotten by time, but the distant sound of temple bells and chirping birds lent it a mystical charm. Her eyes wandered over the dense palm groves that stretched endlessly toward the horizon, their silhouettes dark against the rising sun. Anjali was here for the prestigious cultural festival held in a centuries-old temple by the backwaters. The festival was renowned for celebrating classical Indian art forms, and she, a devoted Bharatanatyam dancer, had been invited…