This chant had been on his lips forever. These words were pronounced by him a thousand times but their deep religious sentiment had never touched his inner core. Just as an instrument would produce sound, so would he articulate these words—meaningless and ineffectual. His heart had been like a leafless, barren tree and the gentle breeze of these words had not produced any music. But now this tree had sprung leaves and branches, and the breath of these words had it resonating with music.
At sunrise, when Nature was steeped in a rosy hue, the parrot flew back into its cage just like a star falling from the sky. Mahadev rejoiced and addressed the parrot thus, ‘Come, Atmaram, you gave me a lot of trouble but you also brought me luck. I’ll keep you in a silver cage and gild it with gold.’ Every particle of his being sang praises of the Almighty. ‘O God! How benevolent of you! It has to be your infinite love or else how would a sinner and low person like me be the recipient of your grace?’ These pure thoughts caused an overflow of emotions and in reverential tones he spoke out—‘Sat gurudutt shivdutt daata, Ram ke charan mein chitt laaga.’
He hung the cage on his arm, clutched the urn in his armpit and set off for home.5
It was not yet bright by the time he reached home, and other than a dog he did not meet anyone. And dogs do not particularly care for coins. He hid the urn in a large trough, covered it with coal and kept it in his cellar. At daybreak, he proceeded straight to the purohit’s house. The purohit was at his prayer and in deep thought—Tomorrow I have to appear in court and I don’t even have a single paisa. None of the noblemen have even breathed a word about it. At that very moment Mahadev arrived at his doorstep. The pandit turned his face away—Why has this inauspicious fellow turned up? I wonder if I’ll get even a grain of rice today. He asked grudgingly, ‘What is it? What do you want? Don’t you know that it is the time for my prayers?’ Mahadev replied, ‘Maharaj, I plan to hold a Satyanarayan prayer meeting at my home today.’ The purohit was stunned. A prayer meeting at Mahadev’s home was as extraordinary as the pandit doling out charity to a beggar. He wanted to know, ‘What is the occasion?’ Mahadev replied, ‘Nothing in particular, I just felt like listening to the stories of our gods.’
The preparations began right from the morning. The invitations went round to the neighbouring villages. There was to be a feast after the prayer meeting. Whoever heard it was filled with surprise—how had this grass sprung from sandy soil?
In the evening, when everyone had gathered and the pandit had enthroned himself, Mahadev stood up and addressed everybody in a loud tone, ‘Brothers! I’ve spent all my life swindling people. I’ve lost count of how many I deceived, how many times I termed the authentic as fake. However, now God has been kind to me and has provided me with an opportunity to wipe the smear off my name. I hereby declare to all of you that if anyone feels that I owe him something or have stolen something from him or that I have converted his genuine goods into something spurious, he can come now and take back whatever is his due to the last penny. If perchance, that person is unable to come today, then from tomorrow onwards till a month, as and when it is convenient, he may come and settle his account. There is no need for any proof or witness.’
A stunned silence ensued. Someone shook his head sympathetically, ‘Didn’t I say so?’ Someone asked disbelievingly, ‘How does he plan to pay up? The total may come to thousands!’ One thakur poked fun, ‘And what about those people who are deceased?’ Mahadev replied, ‘They would surely have surviving kin?’
However, people were keener on wanting to know how he had managed to lay his hands on such a huge amount of money rather than getting their money back. Nobody dared approach Mahadev. These simple village folk did not know how to dig out skeletons from the closet. Moreover, nobody could recall exactly how much Mahadev owed them and the fear of claiming incorrectly was tantamount to committing a sacrilege on such an auspicious occasion. The most significant thing was that Mahadev’s saintly gesture had had a mesmerizing effect on them.
Suddenly, the purohit said, ‘If you remember, I had given you some gold for a necklace and you underweighed it.’
Mahadev agreed, ‘Yes, I recall, and how much was your loss?’
The purohit said, ‘It couldn’t have been less than fifty rupees.’
Mahadev took out two coins from his waistband and offered it to the purohit. Everybody began pointing out the purohit’s avarice. This was cheating! If at all, the loss could not have been more than a few rupees. He had extorted fifty rupees from the poor man! He did not even fear God! With such a poor conscience, how could he call himself a priest? Good God!
People began to regard Mahadev with something close to veneration. An hour passed and there were no more claimants among the many who were present there. Mahadev repeated the request, ‘It seems as if you have forgotten your dues. In that case, let the prayer meeting end today. I will wait for a month and only then proceed on a pilgrimage. It is my earnest plea that you help me to redeem myself.’
For a month Mahadev waited for his creditors. He would not get any sleep for fear of
