A queer saint who was highly revered lived in a small town. He appeared rather candid but his potentials were ineffable and mystical.
A lot of the townfolks were ardent devotees of this simple wise man. He was known to possess great powers.
One evening, the skies turned dark with rage. The clouds gathered in viscous grey clusters and the heavens rumbled and groaned in agony.
The downpour started in full force. A lurking thunderstorm looked inevitable. The inhabitants were unsure of their survival.
Together they rushed to the saint’s tiny cottage seeking refuge.
They pleaded together, “Deva, save us from this disaster. We have no where to go.”
The saint calmly responded, “Don’t venture out until tomorrow morning. Stay here. Let us hold our faith and pray non-stop to Parameshwara. Only He can save us.”
Saying so, the anomalous saint slipped into a deep trance. It seemed as if his breathing had stopped.
One of the devotees gathered the courage to check his pulse. He responded with shock, “Babaji’s pulse has stopped completely. Looks like he has shed his mortal coil. But, let’s wait until morning tomorrow. The weather outside is getting unpleasant.”
The weather outside the tiny shack worsened. While it was raining cats and dogs, heavy thunderclaps in the dark skies made the devotees shudder in fright.
The bolts of lightning struck across the vast skies as through tearing them in shreds.
Terror and panic cringed the inhabitants of the tiny hamlet. All they could do was sit and chant the name of the Lord as was instructed by Babaji before he slipped into his hypnotic state.
Without wasting time, they sat together chanting the name of the Lord all night.
Together, they held faith and invoked the blessings of The Divine Almighty incessantly.
The atmosphere was tense but the power of collective prayer was dynamic. The prayers calmed the nerves and increased the credence among the devotees.
Minutes passed into hours and finally, the dark storm abated. By morning, the skies cleared and the sun was seen spreading its Divine crepuscular rays across the horizon.
It was a sight to behold. With the first rays of the sun, the saint too, showed signs of life and movement.
The gathered mass were flabbergasted. The saint then address the gathering in a puzzling manner.
“Parameshwara had a talk with me. He wanted to efface the identity of this town. I told Him not to disturb my children. He had no choice but to listen to me.”
Only a few understood the real essence of the message. When they went out, they found that every tree was uprooted, houses and cottages were deracinated and everything around was completely demolished.
With the saint’s guidance and blessings, things were eventually restored. It was truly a night to remember.
However, what was most significant was the memorable morning after that rainstorm deluge that had almost gobbled the entire town.
Parameshwara- The Ultimate Supreme Lord