A Yellow Sunflower Among Saffron Marigolds

March 2, 2026

The Buddhist monk, the sole yellow robe among the sea of saffron-clad sadhus.

He seems ageless, hasn't changed a bit in the last one year. He has arrived to take his usual spot at a corner in the narrow street buzzing with tourists and pilgrims.

Before that, he bows down to Ganga Ma and each and every idol or image of gods, goddesses, saints and gurus which are visible from the point he is standing at.

After this, he will stand meditatively at the corner in the crowded street, a shiny brass bowl held in a piece of cloth slung across his torso, holding the bowl over his belly, his hands at opposite corners. A slow nod of the head if someone drops a note or coin in it.

I don't disturb him this time.

I accost him the next day when he is walking in the bustling narrow bazaar.

His lump on the Ajna chakra is gone. I think he got it operated.

But he says, when I point it out to him, “It came out of its own.”

“But why did you get it operated?” I say still not getting the point.

“No, no, not that operation. It burst of its own and cleared up,” he clarifies.

“Do you remember me?” I ask.

“Yes, I do. You are Wakil Sahib, who had arranged a scooty for me to take me to the hospital for injections against dog bite.”

He remembers, but I don't know how come he calls me Wakil Sahib. I have never said so. It is his own guess about my profession.

I don't say anything on this.

“How much money have you collected for making a little Buddha temple at your village?” I ask.

“Not much, just fifty thousand rupees,” he says with a sad but peaceful smile.

“So much money!” I gush with feigned joy and ask where it is. “I would take it.”

“No, no, no, I don't keep it with me. I have a bank account. I keep it safe,” he laughs.

I add fifty rupees to his collection.

So this Buddhist Baba is the sole yellow-robed sadhu from Buddhism that I see during my pilgrimages to the holy town, and he stands out like a yellow sunflower among saffron marigolds.

There are sometimes very exciting sparks when the edges of Buddhism rub against the multitudes of Hindu edges carried by numerous mendicant friars and Babas around him.

But that's what makes it quite interesting.

It's a very lovely feeling to watch him when he bows down to Ganga Maata, when he folds his hands in front of Hindu idols of devis and devtas and gurus that are visible in the ashrams and temples around.

So basically, this is what Sanatan Dharma is about.

In my opinion, Buddhism is just one part of the great bedrock of human faith, Sanatan Dharma. And there are big parallels between the two.

In fact, Buddhism came out as a social reform movement against casteism and other negativities that had cropped up in Hinduism at that time.

So when I look at Buddhism, I just look at it as a part of Sanatan Dharma, and there is so much of commonality that Buddhism and Hinduism share.

Whatever differences the main priest-keepers of both sides claim to be there, it is just to maintain their position.

In reality, more or less, it is just another stream of faith and enlightenment flowing on the landscape of Sanatan Dharma.

Sanatan Dharma is the overall landscape on which these little streams, like Buddhism, Sikhism and all forms of Hindu belief systems, be it Shaivites, Vaishnavites, and I would say even Bhakti saints of Sufi order, they are also the offshoots of this beautiful, majestic, comprehensive landscape of Sanatan Dharma.

These are little streams sparkling with joy and contentment, with means and possibility of taking one to Om, the utmost restfulness of biggest realization.