Madhav stopped his loom and smiled with a strange, radiant peace. "The world sees my rags," he replied softly, "but I see the peacock feather He dropped this morning. The world hears my silence, but I hear His flute in the wind. If being sane means missing that melody, then I am glad to be mad."
In the heart of Vrindavan, where the dust itself is said to be sacred, lived a weaver named Madhav. While other weavers spent their days measuring silk and haggling over prices, Madhav lived in a world of his own. Madhav stopped his loom and smiled with a
The merchant mocked him, asking, "If your Kanhaiya is so real, why do you live in this broken hut? Why do you wear rags?" " he replied softly