Mazha(rain) saint is story written about a man who used to visit our village during my childhood. We was not a real saint(sanyasi) , he was not a beggar either, but with some twist of karma he was caught in between the two. This is my humble effort to remember him.




Mazha swamy (Rain Saint)
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I don’t know whether I liked him or not but we, all the children in the village, were curious about Mazha swamy. He had a long flowing white beard and he covered his thin fragile body with saffron colored robes which gave him the look of a good sanyasi from the cartoon stories. The stick he carried was mostly used to chase away the barking dogs than to aid his walking. On some occasions he used to bark back at the dogs instead of wagging his stick that made some people believe that he knew how to talk to the animals. He also carried a conch which he occasionally blew. For us he was a character from the story book and that, I believe, was the main reason for our curiosity towards him. It was augmented by the fact that we never knew where he lived, where he came from or when exactly he would mysteriously appear next time. He offered us sweet smelling holy ashes (bhasmum) every time he came by.

He used to come at an interval of at least two weeks with his prediction of when we would have our next rain as a prelude to his appearance. He would say “it would rain after the “Vavu” or “after the kollamkodu thookkam” and some times with a stern face “there won’t be any rain soon, people are becoming more arrogant and rude. They shall be tested ( iththavana avere kanakkinu pareekshikkum) , but don’t worry the good ones would be spared “ . Many a times the rain did not respect his holy predictions and it came down whenever it liked. Many people did not believe in his rain predictions, and for that matter, they did not believe in what Aakashavani said on rain either. But on rare occasions when his prediction came true, my grandmother was the first one to point out that ‘mazha swamy said so’.

Some people said he has a house and a family somewhere. But for some he was just a reprobate used to sleep on the verandas of street side shops. Some even said that he used to sleep in graveyards, and that was where he got his ashes from. Some told their children that mazha swamy carried human bones in his bags and would give away their misbehaving kids to mazha samy as a trick to discipline them. But stories like this did not prevent us from looking at him as good samnyasi or taking bhasmaum from him.

It was not only the kids, but many grownups also did not know much about him as they did not answer our many doubts about mazha swamy. But unlike the children the grownups didn’t pay much attention to him. I even thought that in the complex world of grownups mazha swamy did not even exist. They gave him a glass of rice, which he usually takes as bhiksha, every time he visited with out even looking at his face long enough to see how the wrinkles appeared on his sun burned face to form the outer contours of a conch when he said ‘shanbhu mahadeva” with a smile after receiving the offering. Then he blared his conch in full sound, gave out bhasmum to everyone and took leave. I always thought they could easily peep into one of his many bags when they get closer to give him rice at least to confirm that it did not have any bones, but no one ever did, and so, what he actually had in his bags (bags are made out of old cloths folded and stitched) remained as a mystery for the rest of our lives.

Later mazha swamy came less frequently, like once in a month or even less often. We, kids, failed to realize that his visits were less frequent as we were not counting his appearances. Elders said he is getting too old, that is why. Mysteriously, the rain was also became less frequent about the same time. Some said it was nothing to do with the Mazha swamy’s less frequent visits, but the after effect of cutting down trees and global warming, because for them that was only logical. I did not understand that logic, why should I loose my rain for some one else cutting down trees. Wouldn’t the good ones be spared while the bad ones were tested as mazha swami always said?


As kids, we did not recognize that mazha swamy was getting old as he looked the same with his white flowing beard, fragile body and saffron cloths on it. But we noticed that he started walking slowly and used the stick for walking rather than scaring the dogs away. He adopted a new technique of standing still when an unfriendly dog approached until the dog went away or lost its curiosity. He said it always worked, but I knew that he mastered the language of silence and was silently conversing with the dogs to make them pacify.

After one unusually heavy rainy season, Mazha swamy stopped coming. My mother said he asked her to give him some cooked food (which he never did before) in one of his last visits. Now, years later I cannot clearly remember his face as every time I try, it is only a conch that comes to my mind in the place of his face. But the flagrance of his Bhasmum, which was his only offering, is still fresh in my memory. May be that is the only thing he had to offer to the world.


Asokakumar Nair.