The decision, once made, refused to stay quiet within Anand.
It lingered in his thoughts like a restless wind, tugging at his attention no matter what task lay before him. Even as the ashram continued its steady rhythm—unchanged, grounded, eternal—Anand felt something within him shifting.
A direction.
A pull.
Ayodhya.
That single name had altered something fundamental.
And so, it was only natural that he found himself standing before the hut of Guru Agastya, later that same day.
The air around the sage's dwelling was different—quieter, heavier, as though even the forest itself lowered its voice in reverence. A faint scent of incense lingered, carried by the gentle breeze.
Anand paused at the entrance.
For a brief moment, he hesitated.
Not out of fear—but respect.
Then he spoke softly, "Guruji… may I come in?"
A calm voice answered from within.
"Enter, Anand."
He stepped inside.
The hut was simple, yet it carried an undeniable presence. Agastya sat upon a woven mat, his posture straight, his eyes calm yet deeply perceptive—like still water that reflected everything without disturbance.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Agastya's gaze settled fully upon him.
"You carry a question," the sage said.
Anand let out a small breath, scratching the back of his head with a faint, sheepish smile.
"…Yeah. I guess I do."
Agastya waited.
No urgency. No pressure.
And so Anand spoke.
"I want to travel."
The words felt surprisingly light once they left his mouth.
But Agastya's reaction was not what he expected.
There was a pause.
Not disapproval—but surprise.
"You wish to leave the ashram?" Agastya asked.
"Not… leave for good," Anand clarified quickly. "Just… travel. See more of this world."
Agastya's eyes narrowed slightly—not in suspicion, but in contemplation.
"And what stirs this desire?"
Anand hesitated.
He couldn't exactly say 'I think I'm inside the Ramayana and I want to confirm it.'
So instead—
He smiled. A little awkwardly.
"…Curiosity," he said. "I've been here for a while, but I don't really know much about the world outside the forest. Kingdoms, people… how everything works."
He shrugged lightly.
"I just want to see it for myself. Explore a bit."
There was honesty in his voice.
Not the full truth—but not a lie either.
Agastya studied him in silence.
For a moment, Anand wondered if the sage could see right through him.
But then—
The sage simply nodded.
"Curiosity," Agastya said softly, "is not a flaw when guided by awareness."
Relief flickered through Anand.
Agastya did not press further.
He did not question motives or dig into hidden intentions.
It was as if he chose to accept the answer as it was given.
"Then where do you intend to go?" the sage asked.
Anand met his gaze.
"Ayodhya."
A subtle shift.
Not shock—but recognition.
Agastya's expression remained composed, yet something unreadable passed through his eyes.
"I see."
He did not ask why.
He did not comment on the weight of that destination.
Instead, he spoke practically.
"One of the disciples will soon travel in that direction," he said. "He journeys toward a region not far from that kingdom."
Anand's posture straightened slightly.
"That works perfectly."
"You may accompany him," Agastya continued, "but only for part of the journey. Beyond that, you must travel alone."
A faint challenge lingered in those words.
For a brief second, Anand imagined himself wandering through unknown lands, navigating without maps or GPS, relying only on directions and instinct.
Then—
He smirked.
"I'm a grown adult, Guruji," he said lightly. "I think I can manage finding my way halfway across a kingdom… as long as I'm not dropped in the middle of nowhere without directions."
A faint glimmer of amusement touched Agastya's expression.
"Confidence," the sage said, "must walk beside caution."
"Yeah," Anand nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."
Agastya gave a final nod.
"Your journey will begin in one week."
One week.
It sounded short.
It felt long.
Anand bowed his head slightly.
"Thank you, Guruji."
The disciple Anand was to travel with introduced himself later that day.
His name was Satyaka.
He was one of the older disciples—calm, composed, and carried himself with quiet confidence. There was no arrogance in him, only clarity.
"You will travel with me for some distance," Satyaka said, as they walked along the edge of the ashram.
"Yeah. I heard," Anand replied. "I'll try not to slow you down."
"That depends on how you walk," Satyaka said plainly.
Anand blinked.
"…Fair enough."
They spent the next hour discussing the route.
Satyaka explained in detail:
The rivers they would cross
The forest paths they would take
The villages they might pass
The point where their paths would diverge
Anand listened carefully, occasionally asking questions.
"So from there, I just keep heading north?" Anand asked.
"Yes," Satyaka replied. "Follow the broader paths. The signs of civilization will increase. You will not lose your way if you remain attentive."
Anand nodded.
He committed everything to memory.
This wasn't a modern journey.
No maps. No GPS. No internet.
Just directions.
And trust.
The week that followed passed… strangely.
On the surface, nothing changed.
The ashram continued its daily life—calm, steady, untouched.
But for Anand—
Time stretched.
Each day felt longer than the last.
Each routine task felt heavier, as though his mind had already left, walking paths his body had yet to follow.
And yet—
When the final day arrived—
It felt like it had all passed in a blink.
Anand woke before dawn.
For once—before even the earliest disciples.
The air was cold, biting slightly against his skin.
He sat up slowly.
Today.
He exhaled.
Then he began.
Carefully, methodically, he gathered his belongings.
His sleeping mat—folded neatly.
His phone—still sealed in a waterproof plastic bag.
He checked it.
60% battery.
"…Still alive," he muttered.
A strange comfort.
His torch—functional.
His lighter—still had gas.
His notebook—partially filled with thoughts, observations, fragments of a world he was still trying to understand.
Three pens remained.
His medicine kit—almost untouched.
He paused briefly at that.
"…Let's hope it stays that way."
His clothes—worn, slightly torn, but usable.
His boots—still holding strong.
His socks—
"…Yeah, that hole's getting bigger."
He shrugged.
Still wearable.
His food supplies—long gone.
No surprise there.
And finally—
His cap.
Untouched since the beginning.
He stared at it for a moment.
"…Might need this now."
He packed everything into his hiking bag.
Then added one more thing—
A thermos filled with juice he had prepared the previous day.
A small comfort.
A taste of something familiar.
He slung the bag over his shoulder.
It felt heavier than before.
Or maybe—
It was just the weight of what lay ahead.
When Anand stepped outside, the sky was just beginning to lighten.
And there—
Satyaka stood waiting.
Silent. Ready.
"You're early," Anand said, walking toward him.
"So are you," Satyaka replied.
Anand smiled faintly.
"Let's get going then?"
Satyaka shook his head.
"Not yet."
Anand raised an eyebrow.
"We must take leave from Guruji," Satyaka said.
Right.
Of course.
Before Anand could respond—
A presence approached.
Calm. Steady.
Agastya appeared before them, as though he had always been there.
Both Anand and Satyaka bowed.
"Guruji," they said in unison.
Agastya's gaze rested upon them both.
"You depart today," he said.
"Yes, Guruji" Satyaka replied.
Anand straightened slightly.
"Take care on your journey," Agastya said. "The path will test more than your strength."
His eyes shifted briefly to Anand.
"…Remain aware."
Anand nodded.
"I will."
Agastya raised his hand in blessing.
"May your path be guided. May your minds remain steady. May you return with understanding."
There was a quiet finality to his words.
Not farewell.
But something close.
Anand bowed deeply.
"Thank you… for everything."
Agastya said nothing more.
He did not need to.
And then—
They turned.
Two figures walking away from the ashram.
The forest path stretched ahead.
Unknown.
Uncertain.
Alive.
Anand took one last glance back.
The ashram stood quiet behind him—unchanged, unmoving.
A place of peace.
A place he was now leaving behind.
"…Alright," he muttered, adjusting his bag.
A faint smile formed.
"Let's see this world."
And with that—
The journey began.