Betrayal.
It's the only thing I feel...sharp, unforgiving, consuming every part of me.
The man I once loved... No, the man I thought I loved.
He's the one who did this to me. How dare he do this?
Every memory, every touch, every whispered promise...
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─── Chapter 3; Meeting him ─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
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"Bole So Nihaal!" "Sat Sri Akaal!"
The chants echoed through the grand hall of the Gurudwara Sahib, filling the air with a powerful energy that seemed to vibrate through every corner of the space.
The sound bounced off the walls, growing louder, stronger, until it wrapped around me like a warm embrace. I stood among the other devotees, my hands clasped together in prayer, as the Ardaas began.
It was early Saturday morning, and the peacefulness of the Gurudwara Sahib was a welcome escape from the constant rush of my daily life.
I had woken up at 5:00 a.m., the house still quiet and dark as I slipped out of bed, took a bath and wore a simple pink kurti. The silence felt like a protective cloak, allowing me to move through the house without disturbing anyone.
My Bua was already awake, sitting cross-legged in her room, all fresh after her bath, softly reciting her morning prayers. She always started her day at 4:00 a.m., during the Amrit Vela, the most sacred time for meditation and connecting with the divine.
As I made my way to the Gurudwara, the early morning chill bit into my skin, but it didn't matter. There was something soothing about the stillness of the morning, as if the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to unfold.
When I entered the Gurudwara Sahib, the warmth and the scent of incense instantly welcomed me. I joined the other devotees in the hall, all of us united in our purpose, sharing a silent understanding.
The Ardaas wasn't just a prayer; it was a collective act of devotion, a moment where individual worries faded, replaced by a deep sense of community.
The Ardaas ended, and the room fell into a quiet, expectant hush.
It was time for the Hukamnama.
The Granthi ji stepped forward, and as he began to read, I closed my eyes, letting the words sink into my soul.
The Hukamnama, a passage chosen at random from the Guru Granth Sahib Ji, was meant to guide and inspire the congregation for the day. But today, it felt like it was chosen just for me.
Each word seemed to carry a weight, a message that spoke directly to the doubts and fears I had buried deep inside. As the Granthi ji's voice filled the hall, I felt a calm settle over me, easing the tension I hadn't even realized I was holding. The message was clear, almost like a whisper in my ear, urging me to reflect, to trust, to let go of the burdens I carried.
When the Hukamnama ended, I opened my eyes slowly, feeling lighter somehow, as if the simple act of being here, in this sacred space, had untangled something within me.
The world outside would still be waiting, with all its noise and demands, but for now, I was here, grounded and centered.
After the Ardaas, people slowly began to leave the hall, but I stayed a little longer. I wasn't ready to step back into the rush of my life just yet. The peace and quiet of the Gurudwara Sahib felt like a cocoon, one I wasn't eager to leave behind.
