God Walks With Fools — The Wise Always Miss Out

In the realm of spirituality, where logic ends and love begins, there exists a peculiar space of surrender — a madness born not of illness, but of ecstasy. This is the madness of the devotee, and there is no deity more attuned to this vibration than Lord Shiva.

The devotee is mad, not because he is confused, but because he has chosen to burn in the fire of love. He does not ask, "What do I gain by loving God?" He simply loves. This love is not transactional; it is total annihilation. To love Shiva is to dissolve in Him.

Take the case of Kannappa Nayanar, a tribal hunter who knew nothing of ritual. Yet when he saw blood dripping from Shiva’s eye in a lingam, he did what no learned brahmin dared — he offered his own eye. And when the second eye began to bleed, he used his foot to mark the spot before offering the other. The world may call this insanity. But Shiva calls it devotion.


In contrast, the learned and the wise often falter. Scriptures and rituals are tools, but when they become ends in themselves, they create pride. Wisdom without surrender becomes ego. And ego, in the spiritual journey, is the heaviest burden.

Daksha Prajapati, Shiva's father-in-law, represents this fall. Proud of his status, he ridiculed Shiva for his ash-covered body, matted hair, and eccentric lifestyle. He organized a grand Yagna but did not invite Shiva. Sati, Shiva’s consort, immolated herself in sorrow. In his grief and rage, Shiva destroyed the Yagna. The wise man’s arrogance had led to ruin.

Even the gods are not exempt. Indra, the king of heaven, once grew so arrogant that he tried to block Sage Durvasa’s path. The sage cursed him, and his entire kingdom collapsed into chaos. The lesson is clear: wisdom without humility is a ticking bomb.

Shiva resides not in ornate palaces, but on Mount Kailasa, the silent snowy abode away from pomp and protocol. His followers include ghosts, madmen, tribal warriors, and beings rejected by society. Why? Because Shiva does not see with the eyes of the world. He sees the flame of truth burning in the heart.

He drank the poison (Halahala) during the churning of the ocean, not because he was asked to, but because the universe needed him. He wears a garland of skulls, not to frighten, but to remind us of mortality. He smears ash, not for appearance, but to show that all ends in dust. He is beyond duality, beyond logic.


Shiva's Tandava is not just a dance — it is an eruption. In this cosmic madness, he creates, sustains, and destroys the universe. His dance is terrifying, beautiful, destructive, and healing. It is the dance of the mad god who has seen the truth and gone beyond it.

And so are his devotees.

Avadhutas roam the earth, naked and wild, chanting his name. The world calls them lunatics. But they have no fear, no ambition, and no ego. They have merged with Shiva. In their madness is a wisdom deeper than scripture.

Ramakrishna Paramahamsa used to go into trances for hours, talking to the Divine Mother, laughing, crying, and even scolding Her. Doctors called it hysteria. But sages recognized it as divine intoxication.

Shiva is Bhole Nath — the Innocent Lord. He does not judge, calculate, or compare. He blesses the one who calls to Him with a broken heart. A prostitute praying with tears, a drunkard shouting His name, a madman painting His image on a wall — all are welcomed by Shiva.

He does not ask for perfection. He asks for NOTHING.