The night after embracing his shadows, Arjun felt different. It was as though a great burden had been lifted. For years, he had tried to be only "good," only "pure," rejecting the parts of himself he feared. But now, by accepting all that he was, something within him softened—like a locked door quietly opening.
He sat by the river at dawn. The water shimmered in the early light, birds stirred in the trees, and the first rays of the sun painted the horizon. Arjun closed his eyes and let his breath guide him inward.
This time, his mind did not rush forward with storms. Desires did not burn him. Fear did not strangle him. The shadows no longer haunted him. Instead, there was space—vast, open, endless.
He felt as though he were sitting not by the river, but within it. The sound of water was not outside him; it flowed through him. The breeze was not touching his skin; it was moving within his breath. The rising sun was not far away; it was burning softly inside his chest.
And then, for a brief, timeless moment, Arjun was free.
No name.
No body.
No past.
No future.
Only presence. Only pure being.
The experience was fleeting, like a bird brushing past him and vanishing into the sky, yet it was enough to change everything. In that glimpse, he knew what freedom felt like—not escape, but complete union with the flow of life.