A Sadhu's possession. Poem by Nabakishore Dash

A Sadhu was in meditation
on a flogging stone
at the edge of a river.
The washer man, with
his bale of unclean clothes,
came and waited there.

Meditation was over,
washer man told gently
to leave the washing
stone again and again,
brief intervals after.
But the Sadhu kept sitting,
did not budge and turned
a deaf ear.

At last the washer man
held his hands and tried
to pull him from the stone.
In anger, he branded him low,
untouchable, pushed him
who fell down.

There ensued a brief
fight of muscular strength
between them.
Washer man overpowered
the Sadhu and sat on his
body who muttered and
condemned.

Finding no other means,
Sadhu called God to rescue
him from his grip.
A sound was audible
from the sky that said
'I want to save you, but
unable to discern the Sadhu
from the washer man',
hearing the voice,
washer man freed his hip.

The Sadhu's vain ego smashed
and he realised his folly.
He felt ashamed of his act,
murmured to himself
'I lost my patience and good
sense and suffered awfully'.