According to me, myth and magic are closely related. A myth is a traditional story or history about a person and his supernatural powers. For me, those supernatural powers are what we call magic. Every myth carries some element of magic, and every magic is wrapped inside a myth. Becoming the complete person, the Sampoorna Atma, does not mean becoming more and more perfect, but respectfully accepting the different psychological situations of life and living with them creatively. This myth will provide glimpses of that idea.
We can see proof of this in the holy city of Varanasi. From ancient times, we have heard countless myths in great epics like the Ramayana and Mahabharata. The heroes of these stories performed many magical deeds—not for selfish reasons, but to protect others, to survive hardships, and to remind us that good always wins over evil.
To explain this idea, I want to share a small story.
Once upon a time, there lived a young boy with his mother in a small village. He was only thirteen years old, yet he carried a heart full of love and responsibility. His father had died long ago, and his mother was the only light of his life. One day, his mother fell seriously ill. Her condition grew worse, and the boy, determined to save her, decided to go into the deep forest to collect medicinal herbs.
At noon, he crossed a huge graveyard on his way. Since it was daylight, he walked past without much fear. He reached the forest, searched for the medicines, and finally collected them. However, it was already very late. Tired and hungry, he ate some wild fruits and began his journey back home.
By midnight, he reached the graveyard again. The silence was haunting, the wind howled, and he could hear strange whispers from the shadows. Fear crept inside him, but he kept chanting the holy name: “Rama, Rama.” The chant gave him strength, though his body trembled.
Suddenly, a huge monster appeared. Its eyes glowed red like fire, its teeth were sharp, and its roar shook the ground. The monster tried to scare him and then attacked. The boy’s heart raced, but he did not run away. With folded hands, he continued chanting: “Rama, Rama.”
The monster grew angrier and attempted to kill him. At that very moment, a bright divine light appeared in the sky. From within that light emerged Lord Rama, holding his bow. With one strike, Lord Rama destroyed the monster and saved the boy.
Lord Rama then gently asked, “My child, why have you come here so late in the night?”
The boy replied with tears, “Lord Rama, my mother is very sick. I went to bring medicines for her.”
Smiling kindly, Lord Rama said, “Do not worry, my boy. Your devotion has protected you. Go home happily. Your mother will be fine.”
When the boy returned home, he was surprised to see his mother fully recovered and doing her household work as if nothing had happened. His heart filled with joy and gratitude.
From that day onward, the boy realized that true strength lies not in weapons or power but in faith, devotion, and courage. Myth and magic meet at this very point: when human fear surrenders to divine trust, miracles happen.
