Devotion in Motion

 

I saw him from a distance — a jhula kanwadi.

Across his shoulders rested a beautifully crafted jhula kanwad, shaped like a delicate swing. It was adorned with fresh flowers, tiny mirrors flashing in the sunlight, sacred images of Lord Shiva, and within it, carefully secured, the holy water of Mother Ganga. He was carrying it to the Shiva temple in his locality as part of his Shravan vow.

Each step he took was steady. Measured. Purposeful.

“Would you like to have breakfast?” I asked gently, walking beside him.

“No.”

The reply was short and firm, but not impolite — only disciplined.

I had never gone to Haridwar to fetch the sacred water. Responsibilities had tied me down. Yet a longing stirred within me — if I could not undertake the pilgrimage, I could at least serve someone who had.

“Milk?” I offered.

“No.”

He continued walking barefoot on the warm road, the weight of the kanwad balanced with devotion.

“Some fruits… apples?” I suggested, quickening my pace to keep up with his determined stride.

He paused slightly.

“Okay. But I will eat them later.”

That small consent felt like a blessing.

I hurried to a nearby shop and bought a packet of milk and two apples. When I returned, he instructed me carefully, “Open my backpack slowly. The jhula must remain balanced.” His words carried both caution and calm. I opened the bag and placed the milk and apples inside with care, mindful of the sacred burden he carried.

He nodded and resumed his journey.

As I stood watching him walk away, merging into the saffron tide of Shravan devotees, I felt an unexpected joy. It was a simple act — just milk and apples — yet my heart felt light.

As Swami Vivekananda said, “It is a privilege to serve mankind, for this is the worship of God.”

I had not walked miles chanting the Lord’s name. I had not carried Ganga jal across states. But for a few moments, I had walked beside devotion.

In serving a devotee, I had served the Divine. And that was enough.

Pic : AI Generated