Adultery The Swamiji

[shailu4ever]

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His lips moved, but the words came out barely a whisper.
 
“He… he isn’t here.”
 
The words were incomprehensible at first. How could a man, a living titan, simply vanish from a plane? From the world? How could such a thing happen?
 
But disbelief was short-lived. It quickly curdled into something darker. Something more chilling.
 
Inside the jet, all seemed untouched. The luxurious cabin, a testament to Malhotra’s wealth, was as pristine as always.
 
A glass of Macallan sat on the armrest, a single bead of condensation tracing a path down the glass as though time had stopped, mocking the silence that had begun to suffocate the scene. 

A newspaper lay open on a headline about oil futures, a fountain pen balanced atop it.
 
His reading glasses, unmistakable to those who had worked with him, rested beside it, discarded but untouched. 

And the air, the air still smelled faintly of his signature cologne, the sharp notes of citrus and cedar clinging to the leather.
 
It was as though he had been there just moments ago. Paused mid-sip. Mid-thought. And yet, he was gone.
 
The pilot later swore that he had exchanged words with Malhotra after the descent, casual, simple words through the cabin intercom. 

The chief attendant insisted she had seen him stretch his legs in the aisle, his figure familiar and composed, a man at ease in his own world.
 
But when the CCTV footage from the cabin was leaked, something even more unsettling emerged: there he was, walking down the aisle, phone in hand, dictating notes with his usual calm authority.
 
And then, a flicker. A strange static. A white crackle.
 
When the footage resumed, the aisle was empty.
 
On the seat where Malhotra had last been, a single square of saffron cloth lay folded with the kind of precision that spoke to ritual. 

The color, bright and striking, glowed faintly under the cabin lights. It was as if the cloth itself had been placed there with the weight of meaning.
 
No one moved to touch it.
 
For long minutes, the aides, the crew, the security officers stood in silence, staring at the cloth. 

Its presence was like a strange omen, suffocating the space with its implications. They didn’t speak, as though the very air had thickened, demanding their attention, asking for an explanation they could not give.

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