Chapter 2 – My Lord
The first ray of morning light came through the window glass and fell straight on Aryan's face, and he felt as if a warm hand had been placed over his eyes.
He opened his eyes with a jerk; his heart was still beating at the speed of last night's dream.
For a few moments he could not understand whether he was on the temple steps or on the bed in his small room.
Slowly he began to hear the soft whirring of the fan, the sound of utensils from the kitchen, and the vegetable seller shouting "Potatoes, onions!" outside, and only then his mind accepted that everything was normal.
But for him, nothing felt normal anymore.
He remembered very clearly – the temple, the bell, the shining figure, and that voice which had struck straight at his heart: "If I give you a small part of my power…"
"It was just a dream… right?"
He whispered to himself.
As soon as he got up from the bed, he felt something strange – his body felt a little different.
As if someone had opened tight knots inside him during the night, and now some hidden current was slowly flowing between his muscles.
He stood in front of the mirror and looked at his face – the same normal face, no glowing line on his forehead, no different colour in his eyes.
Only one thing was new: his gaze was not leaving his own reflection, as if he was truly seeing himself for the first time.
His mother's voice came from downstairs,
"Aryan! You're getting late for school, did you wake up?"
"Yes, mom, coming!"
On the plate at breakfast there were parathas and pickle, but his eyes got stuck on the local news playing on TV.
The screen was showing the same Hanuman temple – the yellow JCB, white cars, and on the ticker below it was written: "Clash of development and heritage – new dispute in Devdhar."
The reporter was saying,
"For Skyline Energy's project, the widening of the approach road has started facing local resistance. Some people see it as a danger to the sanctity of the temple, while the company says the temple will not be harmed."
Putting a cup of tea in front of him, his mother said,
"See? Now work will start up there too, crowds will come, shops will open, the town will move forward."
Aryan only said, "Hmm."
His mind was still stuck on last night's words – "Without fear, there is no courage."
The school bell, classes, jokes – everything went on as usual, but he remained half-detached from it all.
In the lunch break, Nikhil thumped him on the shoulder,
"What happened, Bajrangi? Did someone give you low marks in your dream last night?"
Aryan asked hesitantly,
"If I tell you that last night… I had a dream where… Hanuman ji was talking to me, will you laugh?"
Nikhil looked at him in surprise for a second, then burst out laughing,
"Arre bhai, if there is one name that is taken the most in your house all year, it's his – obviously he'll enter your subconscious someday! But yeah, what did he say?"
Aryan was just about to speak when the bell rang.
The maths teacher entered, and both of them bent over their notebooks.
In the evening, after coaching, Nikhil asked,
"Not going up today? Yesterday you were so restless."
Aryan looked up at the sky – clouds were gathering, and the air was heavy with moisture.
"Today… it feels like the call will come on its own," he said, half joking, half serious.
Nikhil rolled his eyes,
"At this rate you'll become a full priest soon, I'm telling you."
Both went home by different routes.
Night came with heavy rain.
Thunder kept crashing against the hills again and again, and the smell of wet soil and leaves filled the air.
Around nine o'clock, suddenly there was noise from outside – people shouting, the sharp wail of some siren, and the heavy rumbling sound of a JCB from far away.
His mother ran to the window.
"Looks like something happened on the hill… these machine people too, they even go to work in the rain."
In Aryan's ears it felt like someone had blown a whistle.
He felt – this was the "call."
"I'll just go and see," he said quickly, grabbing his raincoat.
"Are you mad? Is this the time to go out?" his mother tried to stop him.
"There's some problem near the temple, mom… I'll be back in ten minutes," he said, pulling his hand free.
The rain was hitting his face like small knives, but he ran towards the hill.
On the way he saw two or three people running downwards, someone was shouting, "There's been a landslide! The JCB is stuck! Don't go up!"
But he did not stop.
With every step that same voice rang inside him – "Without fear, there is no courage… but the ones who move forward even while afraid, they are the ones who are mine."
By the time he reached the upper part of the steps, he understood that it was serious.
Part of the steps was covered with fallen mud, one side of the railing was broken, and from above he could see bright lights and hear people shouting.
At first he thought he was alone.
Then a familiar voice came from behind,
"So you came too?"
Nikhil was running up without even wearing his raincoat properly, his hair stuck to his forehead from the rain.
"How did you know?"
Aryan asked, panting.
"The news channels went live – 'Landslide threat near temple hill.'
I thought, if you weren't there, I'd be shocked, and if you were there, why should you handle it alone," Nikhil answered, out of breath.
For just one second, they looked at each other – then started climbing the remaining steps.
The scene at the top was worse than on TV.
On the slope right next to the temple, digging work had been going on; because of the rain the soil had become soft, and the edge had collapsed.
One JCB was half-stuck in the mud, its front part tilted downwards, like some big animal slipping towards the gorge.
The most dangerous thing was that just in front of the JCB, a little further down, two workers were trapped – one man's leg was stuck under a rock, and the other was trying to pull him up.
The officers and others standing above were panicking; someone was looking for a rope, someone was calling on their phone, but the ground was so slippery that no one dared to step forward.
The priest was getting soaked in the rain and kept repeating,
"Someone please go down, before the machine slips more…"
Aryan's eyes went for a moment to the sanctum of the temple.
Inside, the flame was steady in spite of the strong wind, as if someone had locked it in glass.
His heart was thudding hard.
The cry of the fallen worker rang in his ears – "Help! Is anyone there?"
Nikhil looked at the slippery ground, then at Aryan.
"This place is not something you can just jump into," he said with difficulty. "Wait a bit, I'll look for some rope or something."
But Aryan's mind was running on a different track. A trapped machine, and helpless people in between.
He suddenly felt the ground under his feet tremble slightly, but his legs were not freezing this time like before.
It was as if someone inside him had asked, "Will you freeze again today?"
For one moment, just one, he truly felt fear – what if he went down and got stuck himself?
What if the JCB slipped further?
What if he fell in front of everyone?
Then, over that fear, another feeling rose –
If he didn't go and the man below died… would he ever be able to remove that from his heart?
Without looking at Nikhil he said,
"If I slip, just try to catch me. That's all I'm asking."
"Have you gone crazy?" Nikhil shouted, his voice full of panic.
Aryan did not reply.
His body moved forward on its own – as if someone inside had pressed the "start" button.
He ran downwards over the mud, slipping and hitting stones.
From far away someone shouted, "Boy, don't be stupid, don't go down!" but the voices were already fading behind him.
In a few seconds he reached the place where the earth had broken away.
A big rock was pressed on the worker's leg; if the JCB's weight shifted even a little more, both men would fall straight into the gorge.
Aryan's breath was loud and heavy, but his hands went forward on their own.
He grabbed the rock with both hands and started pulling – at first it felt like nothing would happen, but with the next breath he felt as if a fire had lit up somewhere inside his palms.
Current ran through his muscles.
The sound of rain, people's shouts, the rumble of the JCB – everything seemed to move far away; only his own heartbeat and a familiar voice remained in his ears –
"My power will flow through you only when you forget yourself for someone else."
He pulled with all his strength – so hard that sparks seemed to fly at the edge of his vision.
And then… the rock moved a little.
The worker's scream turned into a groan.
Someone from above shouted in shock, "Hey, that boy is lifting the rock alone!"
Aryan took another breath and pulled again – this time he clearly felt that his body had become a bit larger, a bit heavier than normal; if anyone had looked at his shoulders just then, they might have thought his clothes had tightened.
But he had no time to look at himself; the rock lifted off the ground, and he pushed it to the side.
The worker's leg was free.
The other worker immediately started dragging him upwards.
Just as the danger eased a little, someone yelled from above,
"Move back! The machine is slipping more!"
Aryan looked up – the JCB really was tilting further down.
For one second his mind went blank again – if he ran now, maybe he could reach the top in time.
But at that moment he felt the earth below his own heels start to tear away like old cloth.
The black gorge waited directly below.
The ground broke, and he started sliding forward with it.
He felt he could do nothing now – it was over.
But as he fell, the words burst from his mouth on their own,
"Jai Bajrangbali!"
With that shout, it was as if someone pressed that same invisible button inside his body again.
Time slowed down – everything around him seemed to move in slow motion, and only he was a little faster.
He clearly felt that if he wished, right now…
he could become very small,
or very big.
Without thinking much, he simply said "yes" to that strange feeling rising inside him.
In the next instant, he felt himself – his body was light, incredibly light, like a piece of air.
He reached out to grab a stone, but it slipped through his fingers as if his hands were no longer as heavy as before.
For a few seconds the whole world blurred.
Then everything went black.
When he came to, it was not dark at all.
There was a soft orange glow all around, as if someone had spread the light of a single lamp everywhere.
He was not standing; he felt as if he was floating in the air.
He looked down and saw no ground, only an endless depth with tiny flickering points of light – like someone had turned the night sky upside down.
"Afraid?"
The same voice, now clearer.
Aryan looked around in panic.
In front of him, a shape made of smoke and light was slowly taking form – broad shoulders, a monkey-like face, shining eyes, and behind it an aura like a flag waving in the wind.
He was about to fall to his knees when the voice stopped him,
"Not fear, respect.
More important than kneeling is to stand with your chest out – only then does a blessing stay."
Aryan folded his shaking hands,
"You… really…?"
There was a faint smile in those glowing eyes.
"To recognise me, you need the heart more than the eyes.
You called from the heart last night, and today you ran for others – in two days you've earned at least this much, that I speak to you directly."
Hundreds of questions rushed to Aryan's lips, but only one came out,
"Am I… dead?"
A soft laughter-like echo spread all around.
"If you had died, son, you would not feel so restless.
Death wipes away all doubts; life is what is full of questions."
"So this place…?"
"This is the in-between – inside you.
Where fear, courage, regret and hope all sit together.
That is where blessings are written."
Hesitating, Aryan asked,
"Blessing… you mean what you said yesterday… is it really…?"
The figure was completely clear now.
A ring of air seemed to be forming around it, as if even the wind wanted to pass only by its feet.
"The speed of the wind, strength like a mountain, and the power to change size in a moment – these are my powers, but I cannot give you all of them," the voice became serious.
"You will only get one 'part' – as much as your heart's intention can handle."
Aryan asked in amazement,
"Part… what does that mean?"
"It means when you fight for your own selfish desire, the power will slip from your hands.
When you fight for someone innocent, against injustice, or to protect what is right, the power will flow and grow."
"What if I get scared in the middle?"
"Being scared is not forbidden," there was softness in the eyes again.
"But running away because of fear is forbidden.
Learn to walk with your fear – my part will stay only there."
Aryan felt his throat go dry,
"How will I always make the right choice?
Sometimes I don't even understand what is right and what is wrong."
"That is why I am not giving you only strength, but understanding too," the voice rang out stronger.
"Before every big decision, if you honestly ask – 'Is this only for me, or also for others?' – then the answer inside you will guide you.
My voice and your conscience will not be separate, as long as you do not run away from the truth."
The light all around deepened a little.
Aryan felt a slight warmth gather in the middle of his chest – as if someone had lit a very small but very bright lamp inside him.
"What is this?" he asked in fear.
"The Hanumant‑part," the voice said.
"The seed of my power, being planted inside you.
You can burn it with anger if you wish, or water it with devotion.
The path will be yours to choose."
For a moment Nikhil's face flashed in his mind – running through the rain, saving the old man, now standing above in fear.
He thought,
"I wish this power went to both of us… then together we could…"
The voice seemed to read his mind.
"Not everyone can handle my power, and not everyone will choose the path that you will choose.
Whoever walks with you will have to fight their own inner battle – blessings cannot be shared, son, but you can stand together for what is right."
Aryan drew a deep breath.
He felt that if he said "no" now, everything would end – the fear, the restlessness, this chance, all of it.
If he said "yes," his life would never be the same again.
"What if I fail?" he blurted out.
"Even then you will not fall alone," the voice became very gentle.
"Because anyone who fights not for himself but for others, his failure also becomes a step towards victory.
But…" now there was a light firmness in the tone,
"do not betray – not yourself, and not this power."
Aryan lowered his head.
Then he slowly lifted it, and for the first time spoke without trembling,
"If you can really trust me… then I say 'yes'.
I might make mistakes, but I will not try to run away."
A satisfied light shone in those eyes.
"Then listen to the three conditions of this part‑blessing," the voice grew clear and heavy.
"First –
the first use of your power will always be for protection, not for attack.
You will become a shield first, and a mace later."
"Second –
no innocent person, even if he is your enemy, will suffer useless pain from your power.
Cruelty in the name of victory will not be allowed."
"Third –
whenever your heart fills with pride, the power will start returning on its own.
You will not be able to stop it even if you try.
Humility will be your greatest armour."
With every condition, Aryan felt the warmth in his chest grow stronger, but it did not burn; it only felt like weight.
As if someone had made him wear an invisible armour from the inside.
"Will you be able to keep these three?"
His throat was dry, but he still answered,
"I will not just try… I promise."
The figure began to move back slowly.
"Today you will change a little, without dying.
When you wake up, you may not recognise yourself – and others should not recognise you so easily either.
First learn, then miracles."
Suddenly the light around him grew very bright.
He caught one last glimpse of that huge shadow – as if it was smiling even while dissolving into the air.
And from it came a soft whisper,
"Jai Shri Ram."
Flash…
Thunder…
And with it Aryan too cried,
"Jai Shri Ram,
Jai Hanuman…"
And then –
He felt someone shaking his shoulder.
"Aryan! Oye, open your eyes! He's breathing!"
Nikhil's panicked voice reached his ears.
He slowly opened his eyelids – a circle of faces, rain falling from above, the faint sound of the temple bell behind, and in his chest a heartbeat like burning fire.
"You… idiot, you're alive!"
In Nikhil's eyes anger, relief and something unspoken were all mixed together.
Aryan tried to speak,
"The… worker…?"
Someone behind said,
"Both are up here, son.
You lifted the rock alone, otherwise there would have been a big accident today."
The priest bent down near him.
"Whose power did you use to do this?"
With a faint smile, Aryan placed his hand on his chest and whispered,
"Just by my Lord's grace."
In the pouring rain, the red flag on top of the temple was fluttering even more wildly – as if some unseen smile had made the wind a little stronger.