Unbinding Tradition

132. In Your Absence, I Found You 🩷

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The darkness still lingered, gently veiling the contours of Shantivan. A soft breeze swept through the mango trees, their leaves whispering like temple bells under the earliest break of dawn.

It was 4:30 in the morning.

The ashram, nestled quietly in the outer edges of Rajasthan's dusty terrain, had already begun to stir.

Men - young, old, and those in between - walked slowly to the main ground, dressed in loose cotton dhotis and plain white kurtas. Some had wet hair, droplets of icy well water still clinging to their necks. The cold bath was the first ritual of the day, meant to awaken the senses and humble the body.

Jungkook, too, was there - his body still damp, hair pushed back, droplets sliding down his nape. His face held no remnants of the Commissioner anymore. Here, he was simply Jeon Jungkook - a man in search of stillness.

They all assembled barefoot on the ground, a large open space surrounded by neem and pipal trees, their roots older than some lives put together. On the eastern edge, the sky was slowly shifting from black to deep blue - the earliest whisper of dawn.

A thin man with a serene face and ash smeared across his forehead walked to the front. His voice was calm, with an old Rajasthani rhythm, yet deep enough to command stillness.

"We begin with Surya Namaskar," the instructor said, his hands folded in greeting. "Let your breath be your guide and your body follow. And remember, the sun doesn't rise for itself - it rises to give. Today, you rise for your own light, and for the light you can offer others."

And so began the movements.

Twelve poses. In graceful succession.

The hands rose in prayer. The spine arched backward. The body folded into surrender. The knees bent in humility. The chest lifted in strength.

Surya Namaskar. The sun salutation.

The group moved together like waves in slow motion, their breaths audible - a rhythm of inhale and exhale, in sync with the movements of the earth.

The instructor's voice guided gently.

"Let your thoughts come and go like passing clouds. Do not hold. Do not fight. Just be."

Some men trembled slightly - not from exertion, but from the unfamiliar silence within their own bodies.

Jungkook, though initially stiff, found a rhythm forming. With each stretch, he felt a tightness loosen - not just in his muscles but in his chest. There was no noise here. No files, no orders, no expectations. Just a body trying to speak to itself again.

After nearly an hour, they came to a seated position, cross-legged, with palms resting gently over their knees.

The instructor looked at them with warmth.

"Yoga isn't just for strength," he said softly, "it's a conversation between your body and your soul. And when they agree, your mind learns to listen."

He gestured for everyone to close their eyes.

Meditation followed.

The world fell silent.

Only the chirping of early birds remained - and the slow rustle of trees swaying as though bowing to the sacred silence.

Jungkook's spine was straight. His hands rested gently in his lap. His eyes closed, and for the first time in many years, he was not thinking about tomorrow.