The Power of Spirituality

Once upon a time, there was a small village on the banks of the river Kaveri. One could hear the splashing of the water on the black rocks, which would soon break into small pieces and later form silt. Not a lot of people lived there but their hearts were made of pure gold. Everyone knew each other very well and no troubled call was ever unanswered. However there was one man, disliked by everyone. And sadly he was the Mukhiya of the village. He was a tall man with strong hefty shoulders, a big face and a moustache which he rolled along with much wrinkling of his brow whenever he saw someone.

In his small hut made up of mud and straw, a Brahmin lived at the central part of the village. He was a great devotee of Lord Krishna. He was wise, kind and an intellect. He was called the man of wisdom. Everyone respected him and would come to him with their problems. With his knowledge he would give them suitable solutions. He was poor but that did not stop people from giving him any less attention.

The Mukhiya was very rich. He owned many precious pearls and diamonds and his house, or as the people called it, his mansion was made up of cement and brick. He was rude, aggressive, arrogant and a short-tempered person. Because of such nature of his, people avoided going to him. Instead, they went to the Brahmin’s place to discuss their problems and enjoy bhajans which the Brahmin and his wife would sing at dawn and dusk. This made the Mukhiya even more angrier.

‘I am the Mukhiya of this village. People should come to me for their difficulties and praise me for giving them solutions, not that poor Brahmin who does nothing but sing songs.’ felt the Mukhiya.

Everyday at dawn the Brahmin worshipped his lord at home after having a bath in the river. He cleaned all the idols with milk and water and placed them back into the temple one after another. He covered them with new clothes and flowers from his garden, where people would take a pause to smell them. He rang the bell simultaneously chanting mantras along with his wife. The sweet smell of the chandan and incense sticks uplifted one’s spirits. People visited their house at this hour to listen to them. They felt positive vibes flow through their bodies. They believed god really visited that house during prayer time.

The Mukhiya wanted to prove that the Brahmin was not important since he was poor. He could not understand the power of the Brahmin’s spirituality.

On the occasion of Janmashthami, the Brahmin organized a great puja. He invited the whole village, the Mukhiya too. However it was obvious he wouldn’t come. The Mukhiya too organized a puja. He made an idol of Lord Krishna out of gold, got a lot of sweets and planned on boasting his wealth. But no one turned up. Everyone went to the Brahmin’s place. The Mukhiya was cross. He rushed out of the house and walked towards the hut. He saw everybody drown deep into the lord’s bhajans.

“You all have rejected my invitation and come to this poor Brahmin! How dare you! I am the Mukhiya!”

The people replied, “Mukhiya ji, please sit here for 5 minutes. You will understand why we love coming here.”

“Huh! Why will I sit on the ground. You are asking me, the Mukhiya to sit down. If you angry me, you will have to deal with the consequences.”

Now the Brahmin said, “Mukhiya ji, the lord is not partial. But you can never win him with wealth. You should join us.”

“You don’t teach me! What can your lord even do. You have been praying to him for years and what has he given you. Nothing! Neither wealth nor a good house!”

The Brahmin could not listen to anything against his lord. He bursted with anger and his eyes turned red. The people were scared, so was the Mukhiya. With just one look at the Mukhiya’s mansion, it broke down into pieces in less than a second. The Mukhiya’s anger turned into shock. He was surprised and perplexed.

“Eh….Brahmin. Wha…a..a What did you do to my house.”

“You can say anything against me. I don’t care. But not against my lord.”

The people were left astonished,”You see Mukhiya ji. All the wealth you were boasting about has vanished with the strength of spirituality. Your mansion is now left to be a hill of cement.” The Mukhiya understood the Brahmin’s powers. He knelt down on his knees and with his hands joined he said, ”Oh Brahmin, I know I am not worthy of this but could you please forgive me. I have realized my mistake. I…”

“No no.” The Brahmin interrupted. His anger faded away. “Do not say so. Everyone is worthy. Since you have now understood everything join us”

“Thank you so much. But where will I live now?”

The Brahmin smiled and yet again with one look the Mukhiya’s house was back into shape. From then onwards the Mukhiya started to understand and help people, visited the Brahmin frequently and stopped boasting. Instead, he distributed parts of his wealth to the needy. Everyone now liked him. The village was blessed to have the Brahmin there.

They lived happily ever after.