*** India, Mumbai city , 14 February, 2024 ***
The bustling streets of Mumbai were alive with the usual chaos as vendors calling out their wares, honking rickshaws weaving through traffic, and the chatter of pedestrians filling the air.
Arjun walked through the crowd, his steps unhurried, lost in thought.A faint smile played on his lips as he reached the bus stand and took a seat at the front. Others stood waiting alongside him, but he paid them no mind, absorbed in his own world.
Reason?
The small, leather-bound diary he had secretly taken from Riya's bag.
He had spent the entire night reading it, his heart racing with every page. What started as a guilty impulse had turned into a revelation—she liked him. Among the subtle mentions of other admirers, his name stood out. He was her first priority.
The thrill of knowing her feelings had kept him awake, his mind spinning with possibilities. Now, morning had arrived, leaving him both elated and exhausted. Excitement had turned into a restless night, and though his body felt drained, his heart carried a quiet warmth. Riya was waiting for a first step, and he had to make it.
He found himself rehearsing the moment over and over. How should he ask her out without sounding too eager or too casual? It had to be genuine, something that would mark the beginning of something real.
His thoughts drifted to their first encounter in lift—the day she had arrived for her interview. She had been nervous, fidgeting with her pen, and he had reassured her, offering a few words of encouragement. That simple act had set the course of their friendship, and before he knew it, he had been drawn to her completely.
His moment of reflection was abruptly interrupted by a voice, rich with warmth and wisdom.
"Alakh Niranjan (spiritual greeting ). You seem happy, child, but I sense hesitation in your heart. Is something troubling you?"
Arjun turned to find an elderly monk clad in saffron robes, a thick garland of rudraksha beads around his neck, and a large tilak across his forehead. Behind him stood a group of younger monks, seemingly his disciples, observing the scene in silence.
He blinked, taken aback. "Are you talking to me, Sadhu Maharaj (respected monk)?" he asked, perplexed. At 28, he hardly considered himself a child, yet the monk spoke to him as if he were one.
The sadhu chuckled. "Of course, child. Since I am looking at you, who else would I be speaking to?"
Arjun exhaled, glancing behind him as if to double-check, then sighed. "There's a girl I like.. I'm thinking of proposing to her."
The younger monks exchanged quick glances at his words before returning their attention to the road, waiting for the bus.
The sadhu smiled knowingly. "You seem capable. It's rare to find people who still practice martial arts these days. I don't think she will reject you. Don't dwell too much on the outcome.. just go for it."
Arjun's eyes widened in surprise. The observation was uncannily accurate. Indeed, he practiced Muay Thai, trained by his adoptive father, a martial arts master who ran a dojo for a living. Many mistook him for a fitness enthusiast because of his toned physique, but for the sadhu to discern his skills so easily spoke of deep knowledge.
Respect for the elder swelled in Arjun's heart. "How do you know I practice martial arts?" he asked curiously.
The sadhu chuckled. "How did you know I am a sadhu?"
Arjun let out an embarrassed cough, acknowledging his defeat. "So, is it true you can read people's lives just by looking at them?"
The sadhu smiled but then, after a moment's thought, added, "To know more, pay me a hundred rupees. Nothing in life is free, child."
Arjun burst into laughter. He couldn't believe he was getting swayed by a conman skilled in face reading. Yet, curiosity tugged at him. Smirking, he pulled out two hundred rupees. "Tell me something more about myself, and I'll double the amount."
The sadhu nodded, meeting Arjun's gaze. After a brief silence, he spoke.
"You lost your biological parents at an early age and were adopted by your mother's friend, who raised you as his own.
You are honest but prefer to go your own way, unbound by rules. You thrive on risk and constantly seek adventure.
You studied engineering but, unable to secure a job, became a teacher instead—and you're doing well at it.
Your hobby is researching technology, especially its evolution over time.
And the girl you're thinking about is your colleague, three years younger than you."
The sadhu then stretched out his palm. "Do you believe me now?"
Arjun blinked, stunned. The accuracy left him speechless. True, he had shared much of his life on social media, but the monk hadn't checked anything in front of him. Still, before he could react, the sadhu extended his hand expectantly. Sighing, Arjun handed over the money.
After a moment's hesitation, he pulled out a five-hundred-rupee note, tossing it in the air with a grin. "I want to know my future. Will Riya say yes?"
The sadhu stroked his long, white beard thoughtfully. "To read your future, I must see your palm. The face reflects the past, but the hands hold the future."
Initially, Arjun didn't believe in fortune-telling, but something about the sadhu intrigued him. After a brief hesitation, he stretched out his palm.
The sadhu took it gently, examining the lines with deep concentration. A frown creased his brow, his expression shifting from calm to serious. Arjun's amusement began to fade as he noticed the younger monks began glance at each other after looking at his hand as well, their faces darkening.
Growing uneasy, he saw his bus approaching in the distance. "Hurry up," he urged. "If the bus arrives before you answer, I won't pay."
The sadhu remained silent for a moment longer, then finally spoke, his voice softer. "No need for payment, child. Just take this blessing—it will smoothen your future path."
He reached into his pouch and pulled out a pendant, a small idol of Lord Rudra in his fierce Tandava form, and placed it in Arjun's palm.
One of the disciples gasped. "Guruji (master), that pendant—!"
The sadhu silenced him with a sharp look.
Arjun hesitated but found himself unable to refuse. A true sadhu never gave without reason, and the pendant looked valuable. A little extra blessing couldn't hurt. Slipping it into his pocket, he hurried onto his bus, lost in thought as he made his way to work.
As he disappeared into the crowd, one of the younger monks turned to the sadhu. "Guruji, why did you give him the Kaal Bhairav pendant? It was so precious."
The sadhu gazed ahead, his voice calm. "Alakh Niranjan. What is destined to be lost will be lost. What is meant to come will come. Do not fret over what has already been done."
Another disciple, who had also glimpsed Arjun's palm, murmured uneasily, "But Guruji… that man is fated to die soon. Why bother?"
The sadhu closed his eyes for a moment, then spoke with quiet resolve. "The universe must maintain balance. I have simply given it a slight push."
The disciples exchanged glances but said no more. Their master's ways were mysterious, but never without purpose. Soon, their own bus arrived, and they, too, went on their way, lost in thought.
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