Baba’s Blessing: Unable to get pregnant, couple goes to baba (Video+)

[ashuezy2]

Scene 4

The car finally stopped. They had reached the foot of a small hill.

In the distance, Riya could see the simple buildings of the ashram.
It looked peaceful, but also looked a bit old.

Rohan: "Come on, Riya. We will walk from here."

They walked up a winding path. There were many other people, all waiting patiently. Some looked worried, some looked hopeful. 

---

They waited for what felt like forever. Hours turned into more hours.
Riya’s legs ached and her hope began to tremble.

Finally, after the sun had started to dip low in the sky, a young follower came.

Follower: “Namaste. You are the couple from Delhi, Rohan and Riya? yes? Baba Ji asked for you.”
Rohan straightened, surprised.

Rohan: “Yes… we are. I’m Rohan, and this is my wife, Riya. How did he—”

The follower interrupted gently, lowering his gaze with a faint smile.

Follower: “Baba Ji knows. Please, follow me.”

Riya looked at Rohan, a flicker of unease passing between them.
How could Baba Ji know they had arrived, let alone who they were?

---

The path curved upwards through the ashram grounds. The mountains around them seemed to breathe vast, silent and ancient.

The ashram itself was large and simple — old walls, wooden beams darkened with age, and faint chants echoing from somewhere beyond. Monkeys watched lazily from the trees. 

The follower spoke again, softly:

Follower: “Baba Ji rarely sees people after sunset. You must be carrying a heavy prayer.”
Riya said nothing. Her fingers tightened around the end of her dupatta.
They stopped outside a small doorway carved into the hill’s rock face. The follower turned to them.

Follower: “Please remove your shoes. And before you enter, leave your fear outside too.”
Rohan tried to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He reached for Riya’s hand, squeezed it, a silent message: Stay calm. Speak respectfully. Let me talk.

The follower pushed open the wooden door.

Inside, the air was perfumed with sandalwood and something sweet, almost intoxicating.

The only light came from a brass lamp flickering near the center of the room.

And there he was. Baba Ji.

He sat on a plain woven mat, his back straight. He wasn’t the frail old man Riya had imagined. He was broad shouldered, strong, his plain saffron robe loosely dbangd over his chest, revealing a body that seemed carved more by discipline than time.

His hair was long and tied in a knot at the top of his head, his beard thick and dark.
When he lifted his gaze toward them, the air itself seemed to grow still.

But it was his eyes that truly caught Riya. They were bright, piercing, and seemed to see right through her. Like a tiger looking at its prey, but with a strange, knowing kindness.

Baba Ji (voice deep and calm): "Welcome, my children. I have been expecting you."
He looked at Rohan first, a quick, assessing glance. Then, his eyes moved to Riya. He looked at her intensely, slowly taking in her face, her shoulders, her full breasts, her whole body. His gaze felt like a warm hand, tracing her curves, not rude, but deeply aware.
A slow, knowing smile spread across his face.

Baba Ji: "So, the mother with the empty cradle has come to me."
Riya felt a strange shiver run down her spine. It wasn't just fear, or nervousness. It was something else, something she hadn't felt in a very long time. A jolt of raw, unfamiliar attraction. He was not just powerful in spirit; he was powerful in body too. Very strong.