The Next God

Once upon a time in a land ruled by fools and old men, there was a saint called Swami Babanandha. He was the perfect saint. With a long, grey beard, a forehead whitewashed with sacred ash, and clothed in saffron robes, he only required a halo behind his head to make him the god that he claimed to be. But he compensated for the halo with a miraculous looking locket that he always wore around his neck. That locket had been given to him by a yogi, who had lived in the caves of the Himalayas for a thousand years. It was that locket that had bestowed Swamiji with powers to cure diseases, to predict the future and to even help find stolen items.

Ramu had heard this and a lot more about Swami Babanandha. However, were his blessings powerful enough? This was the question that rang through Ramu’s mind as he stood among the gaping devotees.

Everyone was eagerly waiting for Babaji to appear on the stage erected for him. A group of priests, sitting in a corner of the stage, in front of burning flames were chanting some mantras. While some of the devotees were reciting hymns earnestly, there were others who were merely mouthing words to overcome the boredom.

With all this chanting as the background music, the Swamiji appeared from behind a curtain. Instantly, all the people were up on their feet, out of respect. The Swamiji waved his hand at all the people gathered and motioned them to sit.

Ramu’s mouth was wide open even as he sat down. He was awed by the charisma of the saint. Apart from an actor who had done the role of Sri Krishna in one of the movies, Babanandha was the only one who had that kind of a look. It was not only the look; there was something more about him. Something magnetic…something pristinely divine…

Swamiji took his seat and began talking into the mike. Hearing his voice somehow seemed to soothe Ramu’s spirit and he almost fell into a trance. So what Muni had said was true after all.

“Just hearing Swami speak cleanses the soul of a person”, he recollected Muni saying, while they both sat on a bench sipping tea that morning.

Ramu didn’t understand the concepts that the Swami spoke about. He could only make out words like Moksha and Karma, which he always heard in other spiritual speeches. He had never understood the meaning of any of these terms. But still he listened to Babanandha speak, mesmerized by the sound of his words.

As he was talking, suddenly Swami began to cough. All the people there grew concerned. But Babaji held up a hand asking his devotees to relax. The coughs did not subside though. One of Swamiji’s assistants instantly rushed to him with a glass of water, while another lean man handed a towel to the Swami.

Alas, Kali Yuga has grown so bad that even someone as godly as Swamiji is not protected, thought Ramu as he watched Babanandha drink some water.

The water did not help though. The coughs continued. Ramu wanted to shout out. Why isn’t anyone calling the doctor? God needs help…

And then it happened. There was a loud cough and Babaji spat something into the hand towel that had been given to him. There was absolute silence for a moment as all eyes watched the towel and Babaji’s hands. His fingers fished within the towel and out came a shining, golden Shivalinga. Babaji picked it up in his hand and held it up for his devotees to see. A wave of applause spread through the audience. Some began to sing praises of the Swami loudly while others started running towards the stage to get that blessed idol from Swami.

Ramu sat stunned. He had never believed the other saints when they said ‘God is within you’. But here Swami Babanandha had shown him.

“There is a Shivalinga inside each and every one of you. The challenge is identifying that god and bringing it out through your actions…”

Ramu was able to understand each and every word now. From that instant onwards, Ramu became a Babanandha devotee. He looked on at the Swami and listened to every other word that he spoke with folded hands. Ramu was not the only one who did this. Every single person gathered there did the same. Every single eye was fixed on the Swami after he had performed the miracle.

But no one spared a glance at the lean, simply-dressed man, who stood silently behind the Swami. He almost merged with the background after handing the towel to Babaji. He stood there silently watching the response of the people without displaying any kind of emotions on his wooden face.

* * * * *

“This is not convincing Baba. We can improve the trick”, spoke the lean man.

The bearded man, who sat wearing striped trousers next to a table fan, looked up with a puzzled look. He had been busy fighting with a piece of meat, trying to drag it free from its bone with his teeth.

“Yes, Baba. I would advise performing something different. Something more grand!”

“What do you suggest?” asked Babanandha, ripping off the meat successfully.

“It should appear more natural. It should be done on a stage not set by us.”

Babaji raised an eyebrow.

The lean man pointed at a small booklet lying on the table, next to the fan. Its pages were fluttering slightly, but a bold title in black letters was clearly visible on one of the sides.

“The Annual Business Achievers Awards…”

* * * * *

There was a buzz within the auditorium. Cameras flashed incessantly trying to capture every millionaire face that adorned the star-studded stage that evening. All the heads of the nation’s leading business organizations were doing their duty by displaying their best smiles. Each of their gleaming faces took turns to come up on the big projector screen that was set up to the right of the stage. Among the audience, upcoming entrepreneurs sat nervously in the first row. They had been chosen from amidst a lot of candidates and nearly all of them were excited to see their life’s role models seated right in front of them. And to top it all, heading this wonderful function, seated on a golden throne was the chief guest, Swami Babanandha.

The stage was well set.

Several inaugural speeches were made. All the guests were welcomed. Although there were a few mouths that yawned, all eyes were fixed on the charismatic Babaji. He sat calmly listening to every speaker with a peaceful smile on his face.

The ceremony soon began. Names were called out for the various awards and the businessmen began to distribute the prizes. Then it was time for the final and most prestigious award. The best entrepreneur of the year award and it was being given to a very popular young businessman who was creating ripples in the telecom industry. Babaji was requested to honour that gentleman with the award.

As the young entrepreneur came up to the stage, a lean man, who was so far in the background, stepped into the limelight with a gleaming trophy. Baba stood up from his seat and immediately stole all the attention from the trophy. The lean man handed over the trophy to Swami Babanandha, as the budding entrepreneur stepped forward humbly to receive the prize. Just as the trophy was handed over to Baba, the lean man gave his cue and passed something to Babaji under cover of the trophy. The trick was done.

The entrepreneur first bent down and touched Babaji’s feet to receive his blessings. The cameras began flashing wildly at that instant. Babaji just smiled and handed over the trophy to the entrepreneur and then spoke, “You deserve something more. Something special. A beautiful chain perhaps…”

And in front of all those people and cameras, he waved his hand in circles in thin air and lo! A chain appeared…

But whether it was beautiful was definitely in question. It was pitch black and appeared as if it had been burnt. It was the most disgusting jewel that could ever be made. It looked like some fossil freshly dug out of some excavation site. But not realizing this, Babanandha held up the chain as usual for his devotees to see.

A silence fell over the audience. The cameras stopped clicking. Some of the businessmen on the stage closed their noses with their fingers. The entrepreneur with the golden trophy in hand screwed up his face in disgust.

All of a sudden a man got up from his seat in the audience and shouted out “Boo! The Swami has lost his powers…”

A group of people in another corner joined in too, “Yes… Yes…God has deserted him…”
Another man from another section of the crowd stood up, “Hey Look. The locket that Baba wears has transferred itself to the other man’s neck…”

Swami Babanandha looked down at his own neck in shock. The lean man did the same thing, but the expression on his face was surprise. All the cameras zoomed in on the lean man’s neck. And there shining brightly like the morning sun was the magical locket that had hung on Babanandha’s neck for all these years.

“God has shown us his true messenger…”, shouted out another man from the audience.
For the first time in history, all eyes turned to the lean man while Swamiji still stood on the stage. The lean man began to quiver and shake as though something was getting control of him.

After several fits, the lean man moved his hands in the same circular motion and there appeared a golden chain in his hand. He then presented it to the waiting entrepreneur, who received it with due respect.

The miracle stunned the audience who as usual began to applaud. Cameras began to click again. Swami Babanandha stood there like a dummy, utterly speechless, staring open-mouthed at the lean man.

“Thanks for being part of the trick…” whispered the lean man to Babaji, as a section of the crowd ran up to the stage and lifted him off his feet.



“And that was how I became Junior Babanandha, my son…”

The lean man finished talking and stood up silently. A baby lay sleeping in its cradle with its thumb stuck in its mouth. The lean man smiled at it and patted its little head. With the smile still on his face, he looked up at the woman who stood behind the door. His smile grew wider and not even his long, grey beard could hide his intentions. The woman stepped forward and both of them walked in their saffron robes towards the bed.



Jai Shri Babanandha!