Adultery The Swamiji: The Ashram of the Sacred Angels

[shailu4ever]

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"Clarity? Peace? Or did I simply want to escape who I was?" She opened her mouth to speak, but for a moment, the words wouldn’t come. Some answers resisted language. How could she explain something so subtle, so shifting, that even she couldn’t fully understand it?
 
"I feel... clearer," she said slowly, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Like the noise has quieted. I don’t know if I’ve found anything yet. But I feel like I’m moving toward something."
 
There was a quiet moment before Gurujii responded, and in that pause, Ahalya could feel something shifting in the air, a subtle current that hummed with a strange energy, as though the very room was holding its breath.
 
"Is he testing me?" she thought. "Does he believe I’m ready for whatever is next? Or is he simply speaking of things that I have yet to understand?"
 
"Yes," Gurujii said, his voice measured. "You are moving toward your true purpose. And I believe you are ready for the next stage of your development."
 
Ahalya’s breath caught in her throat. "Next stage?" Her pulse quickened, the words tumbling through her mind, each syllable like a bell ringing in the quiet.
 
"What does he mean? What does he see in me that I cannot yet see in myself?" The thought of moving deeper into something, surrendering, stirred an unease in her, something foreign, almost terrifying. But it was also exhilarating. "What is this next stage? What will I become?"
 
Gurujii stood, and Ahalya watched him with a mixture of awe and unease. He moved to the window, his figure bathed in the golden light of the morning. Light framed him the way doctrine framed truth.
 
Meera remained silent, her presence like a shadow behind him.
 
"There are levels of seva," Gurujii continued, his voice a soft thread in the quiet room. "What you have been doing, garden work, cleaning, basic service, this is foundational. It teaches the body to obey, the mind to quiet.
 
But there are deeper forms of service. Forms that require not just compliance, but transformation."
 
Ahalya leaned forward slightly, her heart thumping against her ribcage, as though something was about to break open inside her.
 
She had long ago accepted the rhythm of the Ashram, its quiet servitude, its endless repetition, but now, Gurujii was speaking of something more, something far beyond the work she had come to know. 

"Transformation?" she thought. "What will that transformation cost me?"

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