Kya Bhagwan Offline Gaye Hai? - Part 3

Haridwar was not what Ved expected. He had imagined chaos. Crowds. Priests yelling about donation slips. Devotees elbowing each other at the ghat. But what he found instead was rhythm. The rhythm of temple bells in the distance. The quiet discipline of people waking up at five without alarms. The way the river moved like it had a mind of its own.

Ved and Aarav stayed in a small dharamshala near Har Ki Pauri. No Wi-Fi. No AC. Just white walls and the constant sound of the Ganga flowing in the background.

On the first morning, Aarav insisted they attend the mangal aarti. Ved resisted. He mumbled something about not being a morning person. Aarav shrugged and left. Ved stayed in bed, but the sound of conch shells, the rhythmic clapping, and a soft voice singing from a nearby loudspeaker tugged at him like invisible fingers.

He stepped out. Not for the aarti. Just for chai. He walked down to the ghat, wrapped in his hoodie, still half-asleep. The sky was grey and pale, the kind of colour that only exists in the hour between night and day. People were already gathered, sitting quietly, facing the river.

A young girl offered him a diya. It was placed in a leaf bowl, with marigold petals and a small cotton wick.

“Light it for someone,” she said.

Ved hesitated. “I do not know who.”

She smiled, not waiting for an answer, and handed him the matchstick. He sat on the steps, lit the diya, and placed it gently on the river. It floated away, the little flame bobbing against the current. He watched it until it disappeared.

And that is when something happened. Not outside. Not dramatically. No sudden thunderclap. No booming voice in the sky.

It was just a feeling. Like something inside him had unclenched. Like an old window had finally opened after years of being stuck.

He did not cry. He did not chant. He just closed his eyes, and in that moment, he felt still. Truly still. No thoughts. No questions. No sarcasm. Just… presence.

He sat there for a long time, unaware of the people around him, unaware of the cold stone under his legs.

He whispered a single sentence, not to anyone outside, but to whatever was quietly listening within him. “I do not need proof anymore.”

And that was it.

He stood up, not lighter, not transformed, but clear.

That evening, they returned to the same ghat for the evening aarti. This time, Ved wanted to go.

As the priest circled the giant lamp of fire, the crowd sang in one voice. Ved did not know the lyrics. But his hands joined naturally. His head bowed. He did not think of the past. He did not worry about the future. He just stood there, a man who had stopped looking for God outside and accidentally stumbled upon Him within.

Back in Mumbai, Ved kept the diary. But he stopped writing in it. He no longer needed to. Now, when things got heavy, when life made no sense, he would sit quietly for a few minutes, close his eyes, and listen.

And something always answered. Not in words. Not in signs. Just in silence. But this time, it was not empty. It was full.

And on one of those silent mornings, as he sat across from Aarav in a café, Ved looked at him and smiled.

“You knew this would happen, didn’t you?”

Aarav sipped his coffee and smiled back. “Not happen… unfold.”

Ved tilted his head. “You sound like one of those monks now.”

Aarav chuckled. “Let us just say… in another universe, we have had this conversation before.”

Ved narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

Aarav looked out the window. “Some journeys start here. Others… in places not everyone remembers. But the Ganga flows through all of them.”

Ved did not ask more. For the first time, he did not need to understand everything.

Because something told him, this story was just beginning. Only now, it was flowing into a different world. A world that Aarav called… Samsara.

Note for Readers:

Yes, you felt it too, right?

This is not the end, it is the beginning of something new.

If you have read Frequencies of Us and The Wheel of Dharma,

you already know where this story is heading. Make sure to read those too.

***The End, or A New Beginning***

#shortstories #flashfiction #suspense #life #spirituality