In June 1979, Swamishri was travelling in the Mahuva district of Gujarat, visiting the homes, rather the huts, of adivasi villagers in remote villages like Kharpa and Fulvadi. On his way to Dedvasan, the dirt roads were littered with scrap metals, pipes, glass and jagged stones. It was near impossible for the driver to take the car any further. Just as they were deciding what to do, the clouds rumbled and the rain started pouring. Before the sadhus could say anything, Swamishri got out of the car and started walking towards Dedvasan. The sadhus protested, but Swamishri continued. A little while later, Narayanprasad Swami requested Swamishri, “Let’s go back. This is too much for your health.”

Swamishri responded with conviction, “A little walking in the rain isn’t going to hurt me. These devotees live here in such tough situations, and all of you sadhus regularly travel here tolerating the heat, mosquitoes, tics and inconveniences of food, water and sleep. So, why shouldn’t I do it?”

Swamishri silently continued to walk in the rain at an unmatchable pace.