Devkumar Ch. 02

When he looked at them and spoke to them through them is when he filled them with the essence of his being and the song of his soul. Uplifted and free, they soared. They were helpless to do anything but to say his name, "Devkumar." It was then they knew that they were in the presence of the Son of God. It was then they knew that they were blessed. It was then that they knew they were chosen and that they were a holy disciple of Devkumar.

Those who saw him couldn't describe him. Unable to give height, weight, and hair and eye color, for both men and women, the only description of his appearance they offered was that he looked spiritual, holy, and at peace. Those who heard him couldn't impersonate his voice. For men, it sounded like a male voice, soft, confident, and reassuring. For woman, it sounded like a female voice, soft, confident, and reassuring.

It sounded like you were talking to yourself but through him. He was forevermore your consciousness and your conscience thought. He was you and you were him.

"Devkumar...Devkumar...Devkumar." The crowd chanted the song of his three syllable name in synchronized, musical unison.

Somehow, he channeled his thoughts through you. Suddenly, you thought of things you never considered. With the release from the smallness of your little life, you felt enlightened and empowered. You felt powerful, positive, and strong.

Gone were your negative thoughts. Gone was your stress. Gone were your pitiful problems. You felt free. You felt spiritual, holy, and at peace. Everything was cast aside for him "Devkumar."

Everything that was important to you before was replaced by him now. You forgot those who you loved and couldn't remember their names. You loved only him. You were happy and at peace. Nothing else mattered to you but, "Devkumar."

You never wanted to leave his presence, but when you did you left him a better person. You carried away the spirit of him that ignited the aura of you. Free of foolishness and troubled thoughts, you left him to carry his message that you were a follower of the Son of God.

They said that those he touched were healed. They came from all over to be healed. He prayed without words. His followers prayed without sound, silent with his thoughts embedded deep inside them. There was no need to speak. They were enlightened. A revelation, an epiphany, a new horizon of universal thought and an understanding of the meaning of life muted their voices. They understood without words. Conversation was unnecessary.

"Devkumar."

It was eerily silent with tens of thousands of people assembled before one man without sound. Mind over spirit and spirit over sound, they were his army of silent angels. They were one with the universe. They were an army of one willingly in his control. Their soul purpose of existence was to follow Devkumar.

"Devkumar...Devkumar...Devkumar."

They chanted his name before the service and after his audience and wherever his motorcade went their chanting followed.

"Devkumar...Devkumar...Devkumar."

He emerged from nowhere. Rumors spread around the world that he was the Son of God spirited down from a mountaintop. Everyone wanted to see him, hear him, and touch him. Other than his name, Devkumar, and the hypnotic trance that he held over all who stood before him, no one knew anything about him.

Someone lifted his fingerprints from a glass and sent it to the FBI for analysis. There was no record of him. He didn't exist, no birth certificate, no driver's license, and no credit cards. He was a ghost. Newspapers called him a spirit. Followers called him the Son of God.

"He was from a holy place," he said pointing within his chest when asked where he was from. Those who did not know him considered his answers evasive. Those who were not yet enchanted by him disbelieved that the Son of God was here now. Why? Why now? Why did he come? Those who followed his teachings knew he was incapable of telling an untruth.

He always wore white cotton pants and a white tunic top that when the sun passed through the thin material of his clothes lit him up like a spiritual candle. The only piece of jewelry was the prominent display of his diamond cross that hung from a platinum chain. There was something in his face that made you want to befriend him, follow him, and believe whatever he preached. He was a holy man, but he preached no religion.

Suddenly, wherever he appeared, there was a crowd. Those who wanted a private audience with him gladly paid the ten million dollars in cash he requested. He said he had no religion, but he had a non-profit church, the Church of Vishvanath, the Church of the Lord of the Universe.

"Devkumar...Devkumar...Devkumar." Those waiting to see him to appear on the giant teletron screens chanted his name. He was good. He was kind. He was most holy. He spoke the truth.

They said whatever you asked of him came true. Whatever you wanted from him, he would give to you. He didn't care what it was you asked for, he gave it. He left the judgment to you. They thought he was a magician, a hypnotist, and a charlatan. Only, those who paid their ten million dollars left him receiving whatever they wanted and at peace.

Those who paid him money did not ask him for money. They asked him for the things that their money could not buy, love, understanding, truth, knowledge, and peace. Those who asked for evil were the agent of their own destruction.

"Devkumar...Devkumar...Devkumar."

He said only one thing before giving audience to their wish.

"Consider your wish."

He said only one thing after granting their wish.

"Your wish is granted."

To be continued...