The next morning, my heart felt heavier than ever.
Ustaad's condition was going down every hour. I didn’t want the throne. I didn’t want
anything. And yet, the manager and politician were coming and going again and again, making
lists for my ceremony.
anything. And yet, the manager and politician were coming and going again and again, making
lists for my ceremony.
They were talking about guests, rituals, photos, and newspaper headlines. Chota was
explaining to me the important rituals and customs that would happen. But I wasn’t listening.
I couldn’t.
explaining to me the important rituals and customs that would happen. But I wasn’t listening.
I couldn’t.
Lila had started recovering, and she was treating me with a lot of respect now. She would
smile softly whenever I entered, her words gentle. But even that felt like a pressure.
smile softly whenever I entered, her words gentle. But even that felt like a pressure.
Angira... his eyes had changed. He didn’t say anything harsh, but the cold anger inside him
was visible. Especially when Lila looked at me, or when Chota walked beside me. It was like his
silence had turned sharp.
was visible. Especially when Lila looked at me, or when Chota walked beside me. It was like his
silence had turned sharp.
Inside Guruji’s room, I stood quietly with Chota near his bed. Machines were blinking, sounds
were low. The doctors whispered something to the manager and the politician they said
Ustaad’s condition was critical.
were low. The doctors whispered something to the manager and the politician they said
Ustaad’s condition was critical.
The politician turned and looked at Chota and Angira.
“We will do the biggest, most spiritual farewell ceremony for Ustaad. It must look grand. The
nation should remember it,”
“We will do the biggest, most spiritual farewell ceremony for Ustaad. It must look grand. The
nation should remember it,”
he said, but his eyes were calculating like it was more about his image than Ustaad’s legacy.
Outside the ashram, people had started gathering. Some were media. Some were devotees.
They were asking if Ustaad was okay. Whispers were spreading fast.
They were asking if Ustaad was okay. Whispers were spreading fast.
That Night
The entire day passed like a blur. I was breaking inside. I didn’t speak to anyone. I kept thinking
of my mother, my uncle, my small home. My village. The mango tree near my window.
of my mother, my uncle, my small home. My village. The mango tree near my window.
And this throne... if I sit on it, I can never leave. If I refuse it, I disrespect Ustaad’s last words.
Whenever I would fall asleep, I saw Ustaad in my dream, sitting under a tree, calling my name.
And once, I even saw my uncle standing beside him.
And once, I even saw my uncle standing beside him.
The Hour of Storm
It was past midnight.
It was past midnight.
The doctor came running out of the room, crying and shouting.
“He’s gone! Guruji has left... someone come... hurry!”
“He’s gone! Guruji has left... someone come... hurry!”
We all rushed in. The air was still.
But what we saw was beyond belief.
Only Guruji’s clothes were on the bed.
No body. No weight. No presence. Just... the white clothes he was wearing. Folded as if
someone had carefully taken his body out of them like a soft cloth sliding away.
No body. No weight. No presence. Just... the white clothes he was wearing. Folded as if
someone had carefully taken his body out of them like a soft cloth sliding away.
The doctors were trembling. Assistants were shaking their heads. “This... this isn’t possible,”
one of them whispered.
one of them whispered.
Within minutes, the entire ashram was awake. The politician, the manager, all disciples
gathered.
gathered.
Some people broke into tears. Some started touching my feet. I didn’t understand what was
happening.
happening.
Chota was standing beside me his tears running down silently. Angira was organizing
everything. Assigning duties, calming the crowd.
everything. Assigning duties, calming the crowd.
We lit 100 lamps near Ustaad's room . The gallery looked like a glowing temple of grief.
And outside... the sky changed. From nowhere, a small storm and rain arrived, circling the
ashram for a few minutes. Thunder rolled, but not violently it felt like the heavens saluting a
soul.
ashram for a few minutes. Thunder rolled, but not violently it felt like the heavens saluting a
soul.
We collected everything that belonged to Ustaad.
His beads.
His books.
His sa
ron robe.
And finally... the sacred golden book the one I used to read daily was placed in my hands.
His beads.
His books.
His sa
ron robe.
And finally... the sacred golden book the one I used to read daily was placed in my hands.
The doctors removed the machines. The room was cleaned.
Everyone slowly left.
Now, I was left alone in that room sitting beside the bed, holding his belongings. The silence
was louder than anything I had ever heard.
was louder than anything I had ever heard.
I tried not to cry. But I couldn’t stop. My tears fell like prayers.
I hugged his beads. I pressed my forehead against the wooden wall. I whispered, “Come back,
Ustaad... just once...”
I hugged his beads. I pressed my forehead against the wooden wall. I whispered, “Come back,
Ustaad... just once...”
I don’t know when sleep took me. But in that sleep, I was still calling his name.