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His neighbors often saw him sitting by his loom, laughing at a joke no one else heard or scolding the air for "stealing" his butter. They whispered behind his back, tapping their foreheads. To them, he was simply "Pagal Madhav"—the madman.

One evening, a wealthy merchant passed by his hut and heard Madhav singing: His neighbors often saw him sitting by his

The next morning, the village didn't call him "Pagal Madhav" anymore. They realized that in a world chasing shadows, the only one who was truly sane was the man who had found the Light. If you'd like, I can: tapping their foreheads. To them