“Samb Sadashiv, let it rain on the fields, let the crops grow, let us sell milk and curds.”

Thus prayed the villagers, pouring water over the Shiva lingam.

Everyone, young and old, was present. Shyam began to recite the mantras. He poured the first kalash of water over the lingam. Then, one after another, everyone took their turn. At that moment, they all became one in their devotion.

In some regions of Maharashtra, the rainfall is often scanty. When the rains fail, the crops do not grow. In Konkan, there is usually plenty of rain. But sometimes, in certain years, it does not rain at all. When that happens, the farmers suffer great losses. In our land, the fate of the crops depends entirely on the rainwater. If the rains are timely, the crops flourish. The village of Palgad was no exception.

That year, the monsoon began well. The initial showers were good. The fields were sown. But then, the rain stopped. Days passed, but there was no sign of it returning. The earth became hard and parched. The seedlings began to wilt. People ran anxiously to the fields, hoping for rain. Whenever a dark cloud appeared in the sky, their hopes would rise, but the rain never came. Life here depends on rainwater. Water is life; without it, everything withers. These words reveal the true importance of water. Love and water—

Because there is a life-giving power in both of these. Water itself is the very form of God! It has no color, no fragrance, no shape. Its greatness is difficult to describe! Anyway, when the rains are delayed, after the monsoon fails, people, following the old tradition, pour water over the Shiva lingam, praying for rain. They immerse the lingam in water and bathe it. The whole temple becomes filled with water. In some places, this ritual of pouring water continues for a week. Yet, even after the rains arrive, the work of pouring water does not stop immediately. This task is divided among the families of the village, each taking turns. All the villagers, young and old, participate in this work.

When the people of the village began the ritual of pouring water over Shiva in the temple to pray for rain, the temple became crowded. The chanting of the Rudrasukt began. Their voices rang out in a grave, solemn tone. Shyam’s father knew this hymn. He too took part in the ritual. Shyam, however, stayed at home. The other children were busy with the same work. Seeing this, Shyam’s mother called him and said, “Shyam, why don’t you go to the temple? You too should fetch water and pour it over Shiva.”

“But, Mother, will the elders let me join them?” Shyam asked.

“My dear, you take a small pot. If that’s too much, take a tumbler. Carry water from the lake, one tumbler at a time, and pour it over the deity. It’s easy to go to the lake. Come, you too should go and