Adultery The Ashram: The Desire for the Sacred Angels

[shailu4ever]

.

Ahalya’s breath caught. There was something too quiet about him. 

Too undisturbed. It made her feel small, insignificant, as if the entire hall had already seen all of her thoughts and cast them aside.
 
“He leads evening meditation,” Meera whispered, her voice barely audible over the rising hum of the chant. “You all will join tomorrow. Today, you rest. You settle. You release what you carried here.”
 
Release what you carried here. What did that even mean? Was it just the bag she’d brought with her, or something deeper, something unseen, waiting to be shed?
 
They moved from the hall in silence. The gardens bloomed around them, but the air had thickened, become more oppressive.
 
Ahalya could feel the weight of the Ashram pressing in from all sides, and it was hard to breathe without feeling like she was somehow drowning.
 
Meera led them to a small, simple building at the edge of the inner circle. Inside, each room was bare, just a mat, a window, and nothing else. No personal belongings. No adornments.
 
“This is yours,” Meera said, her voice still calm, still unwavering. “We eat at dawn and dusk. We work between. We pray always. Questions?”
 
Ahalya felt the words vibrate in her chest. She had a thousand questions, a thousand doubts, and yet, looking at Meera, at the simplicity of the room, all of them faded away. The stillness was heavy, pressing against her, squeezing the words back into the silence.
 
“No,” Ahalya whispered, feeling as though the word was not hers to speak. It had already been chosen for her.
 
“Good.” Meera placed a hand on Ahalya’s shoulder, warm, but deliberate, a quiet seal. “You are safe here. You are seen. You are held.”
 
Meera moved to the next girl, repeating the gesture with the same calm assurance. When she left, the room was emptier than before, and Ahalya’s heart felt heavy in her chest.
 
She walked to the window. The forest stretched before her, dark and dense, as though it had no beginning and no end, just an endless sea of trees. Somewhere, deep within the Ashram, the chanting continued, growing fainter with each passing second, but still present.
 
Ahalya closed her eyes, and in the quiet, she could feel something begin to shift within her.
 
She had not yet realized it, but this would be the last moment she would ever truly feel like herself. The Ashram would slowly, inevitably, take everything she had brought with her.
 
The forest whispered. The Ashram waited.
 

-- oOo --

.