Adultery The Swamiji: The Ashram of the Sacred Angels

[shailu4ever]

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"Ahalya. Please, sit."
 
She lowered herself onto the cushion opposite him, folding her hands in her lap, her movements precise. Precision had replaced hesitation. Meera remained standing by the door, watching without speaking, a quiet presence at the periphery of the room.
 
"You have been with us six weeks," Gurujii began, his voice soft but carrying a weight that made Ahalya sit straighter, her attention fully focused on him. "Six weeks," she thought. "It feels like both an eternity and no time at all."
 
"Meera tells me you have absorbed the practices well. Better than most."
 
Ahalya felt a warmth spread through her chest, but it wasn’t the kind of pride that might have bloomed in her before the Ashram. No. It was something deeper, more grounded. Pride implied ownership; this felt more like alignment.
 
Praise from him felt different, more substantial, more meaningful. "He sees me," she thought, a whisper of satisfaction curling in her chest. "And it is not the girl I was who has come this far. It is the woman I am becoming."
 
"I’m trying," she replied softly, her voice steady though her heart thudded in her chest.
 
"Trying?" she thought. "No... I’m flowing. I’ve learned to move with the Ashram, to be at peace within it. But I feel this pull, this hunger, deep inside me, like I’m waiting for something to break open. For him to see me."
 
"Trying suggests effort. I see no effort in you anymore. I see only flow. This is rare."
 
His words were like a benediction, and yet something about the way he said it made her shiver, as though the compliment held a deeper truth.
 
A truth that carried expectation. He looked at her with an intensity that seemed to go beyond observation, as though he could see into the very marrow of her soul. "Flow," Ahalya repeated in her mind.
 
"What does he mean by that? Does he know the struggle that still stirs within me?" Her hands tightened in her lap, as if trying to hold on to something solid while the ground shifted beneath her.
 
He paused, allowing the words to settle between them before continuing. "Tell me, Ahalya. Do you feel you have found what you came here seeking?"
 
The question settled into her like a hand on her shoulder, heavy and gentle. She considered it carefully, the weight of it pressing down on her chest. "What did I come here seeking?" she wondered. 

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