“Did you see Aarav's new Shaligram?” Vihaan Bansal discreetly whispered one morning. “It's just come from a temple in India. He says it is Narasimha, but I don't think so. It doesn't feel like Narasimha and I don't see any teeth. It's probably Lakshmi. Which would be good, actually. Since he can't afford to go on pilgrimage [to Mustang], I’m thinking that maybe she will bring fortune enough to see Kali Gandaki one day. It's what we all hope for.”

The identity of Aarav's Shaligram remained a consistent topic of discussion among the local community of Hindu devotees in Boston for the next several weeks. Reading a Shaligram is generally something that takes a fair amount of time and training as well as access to a plethora of religious texts in order to properly carry out. But without access to a knowledgeable guru or proficiency in some of the more esoteric complexities of Sanskrit descriptions, many practitioners noted that the ultimate identity of the murti would likely remain obscure despite everyone's best efforts. This wasn't to say that the Shaligram could not be worshipped or could not enter into family life as a household deity but that the precise nature of its interactions with the community over time would have to be carefully monitored so as to ensure that the Shaligram was being cared for in the manner in which it preferred.