Sensei of Shambala, Anastasia Novykh [love story novels in english txt] 📗

your problems will disappear.’ After that, I woke up in a completely different mood. I began thinking. And really, as it turned out later, I couldn’t have found better candidates for my business. Although, honestly speaking, in the beginning I had doubts, there was still a great risk. But recalling this dream, something pushed me to a final decision. Honestly, girls,” she made the sign of the cross, “it’s the genuine truth!”
“Would you believe that this blond man was also in my dream?” confessed Anna Ivanovna. “I was just too shy to tell you. He was telling me something with such a pleasant voice. But in the morning, I could remember nothing of his words. I just remember that afterwards I had such a nice feeling. I still keep feeling appeased. What could it mean?”
“They were angels from heaven who came to help you,” exclaimed the pious mother-in-law. “They show you, my dear, the right way…”
She then started the whole homily of church teaching. But this case clearly intrigued me. Coming back home, I hurried to write it down in my diary.

27

Soon after the New Year holidays, my mother felt a lot better, and she was discharged from the hospital. Parting from the women, who were also getting ready to be discharged, was very warm. These days I had more free time, and I decided to go to the training. But my friends said that Sensei had left on a business trip for a couple of weeks. So, our meeting was postponed for an indefinite period of time because in three days we had to fly with my mother to Moscow.
I took my diary with me on the plane. As my mother slept during the flight, I turned its pages over and over again. Of course, I worried a lot before the forthcoming operation, but Sensei’s words warmed my heart and were honey to my soul.
Uncle Victor met us at the airport and informed us that grandfather had come from Siberia to support our moral spirit. My grandpa was the most respected, most esteemed, wisest man among all our kinfolk. Everybody listened to his opinion. It was considered a great honor if he visited one of the relatives. It pleased me to see such a touching demonstration of care from grandpa; it was not so easy at his age to travel more than five thousand kilometers, even by plane.
When we had happily greeted grandpa, we began the traditional feast, where mother told him about all the misfortunes that had befallen our family. They continued to discuss the problems for long time but I, fairly tired after the trip, went to take a rest because the next day was going to be quite hard.
In the evening, when I was reading my diary, somebody knocked on the door. It was grandpa. He sat next to me and began inquiring about some trifles. Gradually, our conversation moved on to more serious subjects. Grandfather was trying to console me before the forthcoming operation. He said that regardless of the results of the second examination, there was no need to be upset. Many people who got into worse situations came out of them as winners precisely because they didn’t lose their self-control and will-power and fought to the end. Grandfather started to cite eloquent examples from his front-line life during the war. To be more convincing, he supported his speech with his favorite proverb, “As long as life in you glimmers, hope still shines.” All that time I carefully and calmly listened to grandpa. When he finished his speech, I sincerely told him what I actually thought and felt in my soul. I expressed all my opinions about life, which, thanks to Sensei’s teaching, had formed me from the inside and had become an essential part of myself. Grandfather was so startled, so amazed by this simple truth that he again asked me if I really wasn’t afraid of death.
“Of course,” I calmly replied. “For me, death is just a change of conditions, a transition from one state to another. I know that I will always be with you, with my relatives, because my love for you lives in me, in my soul. And wherever I am, whichever form I take, this love always will be with me because I and my love are eternal… I began to appreciate this feeling most of all in life because in life, the quality of the instants lived is more important than the senseless years of existence.
These words affected grandpa’s feelings because he was touched to the depths of the soul. I realized that everybody is afraid of death, even those who are as courageous as my grandfather. Apparently, he was also afraid of the unknown, of what will happen after death, but had never told anyone. Grandpa pondered for some time and then said, “Yes, probably, wisdom is a virtue of the soul and not of the age.”
The next day, I noticed that grandpa changed. He became happier, more cheerful, and looked as if he had found answers to questions that had been tormenting him for years. We headed to the clinic together. I was examined for almost the entire week, passed various analyses and X-rays. And finally, one day, my mother and I came to the professor, an old, pleasant man. I thought he greeted us strangely, slightly confused. Looking at him, I thought that my body had very little time left to live. A tense pause reigned.
“You know,” he began, still looking through my films. “I don’t understand anything. There is a clear pathology in these September films that you brought, and the tumor had already begun to progress slowly. But if you look at the ones we just took, everything is clear. I even had repeated films taken... Either there was a mistake in the first films, which is unlikely based on the fact that the girl has been regularly examined, or… I even don’t know what to think.”
Addressing me, the professor asked, “When was the last time you had headaches?”
“Me? Well..,” I did my best to recall, “Probably, some time in October, I clearly remember it. While later…” I shrugged my shoulders.
And really, I had completely forgotten the last time that my head ached. The previous months had been full of events, especially in the case of my mother, and I had completely forgotten about myself and my disease. The only thing that was significant for me was the spiritual and physical care of my mother.
“Strange…Very strange,” said the doctor. “According to our films, the girl is completely healthy, though the old films show that, at a minimum, right now she should be bedridden. Did you get any other treatment beside the doctor’s recommendations?” the professor asked with evident interest.
“Well, no,” my mother replied in confusion. “We did what we were prescribed.”
“What my colleagues prescribed would only slow down the growth of the cancer cells but not completely destroy them. Paradoxical! This is the first such unique case in my entire long-term practice. Evidently, it didn’t happen without providence,” the doctor kept saying, once again going through the films and the results of the analysis.
“So, does it mean,” my mother asked shyly, clearly not believing all she heard, “you can’t confirm the diagnosis?”
The professor drew his attention away from the films and glanced at my mother with amazement.
“Of course. Your daughter is absolutely healthy!”
My mother, for one more minute, sat clinging to the chair. When the professor’s answer finally sank in, she rushed to thank him and to shake his hand as if he were an angel with wings. I was also happy. But unlike my mother, I knew who my angel and savior was. Even my mind didn’t resist that definition. The only question that worried me in that moment was: how did Sensei do THIS?
After such news we didn’t just walk out of the clinic, we flew out of it. Our relatives waited downstairs, including grandpa. There was no limit to their joy. My mother made the sign of the cross and silently thanked God, which unspeakably surprised me because I could hardly believe that my mother, an officer, a major, who had been brought up in the ideology of communism and atheism, would do something like that. But I realized that everybody, whoever or whatever he or she is, first of all, remains an ordinary person with his or her fears, grief, and faith in a higher power.
For the whole next week, we celebrated my “second birth.” All those days, my diary was full of pages of joy, excitement, and one and the same question: “How did Sensei do this? Why did my life change so sharply? Is it thanks to his presence in it? Who is he actually? And where do I know him from?” One question begat another series of other questions. But I left Moscow with a firm intention to find out everything, even if it took years.

28

At home, I first asked my friends about the next training. It turned out to be that night. We agreed to meet at the same time on the tram stop. I barely had the patience to wait until the appointed hour and took all my medical discharges and films.
The gang greeted me with elation and a flow of news. When the long-awaited tram came up, they held me back.
“We have to take a different tram now,” Tatyana said smiling.
“How come?”
“Surprise!” they yelled almost in unison.
“We have now moved to a different sports hall,” Andrew explained with pride. “It’s a lot better, a lot more comfortable, with mirrors. Besides, it is located almost twice as close.”
“What news!” I was surprised.
All the way my friends told me about the many interesting things I missed when I was, as they thought, healing my stomach in a health center. Andrew, vying with Kostya, shared news about the trainings, about original cases in Sensei’s regular demonstrations, and about his unusual philosophy, which he was telling them during spiritual trainings. While Tatyana and Slava echoed the especially thrilling moments and supplemented them with their impressions. I was listening to them with attention and great regret that I hadn’t become a witness to such interesting events. But, on the other hand, an entire life was now ahead of me.
Having reached the final stop, I saw a huge, modern building, the palace of culture, though the locals simply called it a club. There was a movie theater and many rooms for various hobby classes, and a good sports hall with mirrors on the wall.
“Great! Now we can practice the Monkey style in front of them as much as we want,” I joked, examining my multiple reflections.
Sensei entered the hall together with the senior guys. He warmly greeted us, including me. Shaking his hand, I was looking into his eyes with admiration and one silent question, “How?” Not that I didn’t believe, I simply knew that my cure happened due to Sensei, due to interference of higher powers, as the professor said, “divine providence.” But how could he do it so quickly? Why did the disease disappear so quickly?
My soul was overflowing with feelings of gratitude. But I could express them only with my eyes because there were too many curious people around. When the guys went to the changing rooms, I gathered all my courage and asked Sensei to speak with me alone. He agreed willingly.
We walked into the vestibule, and I started showing him my medical records, telling him about the events in Moscow. I tried to express to him the feelings flowing over me, but my strong emotions caused me to speak only some incoherent mixture of grateful phrases.
Igor Mikhailovich quickly flipped through all