Legendary Head Shave Tales
The cold winds of Badrinath howled as the greedy politician Dharmendar and his family arrived at a sacred ashram of Babaji Nithyananda. The temple-like structure stood tall against the misty, Inside, Nithyananda, draped in saffron robes, sat on an elevated throne with a mysterious smile playing on his lips. “What do you seek?” His deep voice echoed through the marble hall. One by one, the family members spoke, revealing their desires.
Dharmendar himself craved for power and status. Aishwarya, Dharmendar’s wife, sought unlimited wealth. Manisha Aishwarya’s sister, the school principal, longed for a good career .first daughter Aparna, 24, wished for business success. Second daughter Swara, 19, dreamed of becoming a famous model. Nithyananda nodded slowly. “All your desires can be fulfilled,” he declared, but before that the youngest child Raj, 13, had to undergo a purification ritual so that all their desires coild be fulfilled… each family member was asked to perform a week ritual…
Each family member was gives a separate area and all arrangements was made…
Raj’s head was shaved completely on the first day. “You were born at an inauspicious time. Daily purification will correct that,” Nithyananda assured. He added that Daily his head has to be shaved without leaving any strand… Every morning, Raj sat cross-legged before the priest as the razor glided over his head, scraping away every trace of stubble. The cool breeze sent shivers down his bare scalp. Raj ran his fingers over the silky surface, feeling strange. but he remained silent, convinced that his sacrifice would bring fortune to the family. the priest applied a thick layer of sacred oil, making his scalp shine under the temple lights.
Then Swara’s ritual began. “Beauty is energy,” Nithyananda told her. “By sacrificing a little each day, your inner radiance will emerge.” . The ashram helpers, trimmed a few inches from her long, thick hair.The cut hair was collected, ground into a fine powder, and mixed into a thick, murky drink. Hesitant at first, Swara swallowed it… Each morning, She sat before ashram barber as he snipped inches off her thick, waist-length hair. By the 3rd day, it barely touched her shoulders,then a short boyish crop remained. On the final day, with no more hair left to cut, the priest smiled and ran the razor over her scalp, leaving her completely bald. she felt a strange sense of transformation, convinced that her sacrifice had enhanced her beauty.
Meanwhile, Aparna was given neem water to pour over her luscious locks. “Silky hair distracts from your business mind. Neem will strip away the illusions,” Nithyananda explained. Each day, Aparna dutifully soaked her long, silky hair in neem water as instructed, watching it turn dry and brittle. Doubt crept into Aparna’s mind— Noticing her hesitation, Nithyananda smirked, “Even great minds knew this truth. Do you know why Steve Jobs was bald? He sought me for clarity. His hair held him back, just like yours.” Aparna’s eyes widened in shock. Nithyananda’s words echoed in her mind. By midweek, she agreed to completely let it go, she sat still as the barber smoothly shaved her head, leaving her bald.
Manisha’s transformation was even more intense. “Children must fear their principal,” Nithyananda told her. Her thick black hair shiuld be shaved entirely. ” Manisha hesitated as the clippers buzzed near her scalp. “Will this really make me more respected?”. Nithyananda chuckled, “A long-haired principal is seen as soft, easy to ignore. But a bald head commands attention— Try it .” Manisha was convinced by his words. A special ointment was applied daily, polishing her bald head to a smooth shine. When she finally saw her reflection, her fierce, bald look made her feel powerful yet strangely vulnerable.
Aishwarya was hesitant, Nithyananda’s words struck deep. “Your hair is cursed. That is why wealth slips away from your grasp. Remove it, and prosperity will flow.” Stories of rich, bald women were whispered to her, their so-called fortunes a direct result… a herbal tablet was given for permanent hair liss , Reluctantly, she followed his instructions, and within days, strands of her thick hair began falling in alarming clumps. Aishwarya’s hair thinned rapidly, strands falling everywhere—on her pillow, the floor, her clothes. Last day patches of bare scalp appeared, and her once thick hair was gone. She stood before the mirror, Staring at her reflection, a chill ran down her spine—she had never imagined herself bald.
Dharmendar’s ritual was slow . Each day, a portion of his hair was snipped away and was put into sacred fire. “Power comes from humility. Sacrifice what you take pride in the most,” Nithyananda urged. The gradual loss was more tormenting than an immediate shave, but he obeyed, believing in the promise of status.
As the seventh day arrived, the family stood in front of Nithyananda, Nithyananda clapped his hands. “You are now reborn. Go, and the world shall bow before you.” The family returned home, heads uncovered, chins high. At first, the baldness felt like a crown of power. People stared, whispered, some even bowed in awe.But within days, the illusion shattered. Swara was rejected at auditions; her once-envied beauty had become a subject of ridicule. Aparna’s investors laughed at her “enlightenment,” calling her foolish for giving in to superstitions. Raj cried himself to sleep, feeling exposed and weak.
Manisha’s school staff gossiped; parents pulled their children away from her, calling her “possessed.” Aishwarya’s financial fortune did not change, and she began to panic, realizing she had been deceived. Dharmendar faced the worst humiliation. His peers mocked him, his opposition spread rumors of insanity. His once-commanding presence was now a joke. Finally, the truth came crashing down. A former devotee revealed the scam—Nithyananda was a fraud, manipulating the greedy and desperate into sacrificing their pride.
A few days passed since the family left the ashram, their heads smooth and bald, still processing the bizarre rituals they had endured. Nithyananda received a call. The voice on the other end was cold, just delivering raw information. “Ratanlal, a wealthy businessman from Gujarat, has shown interest. His profile is ready.” Nithyananda’s lips curled into a sinister smile as he stood up. “It’s time,” he murmured to himself, a new target in mind.
