There was a bell in the Vishwanath temple of Kashi which had not rung for a hundred years.

A bell in the Vishwanath Temple in Kashi that hadn’t rung for a hundred years because it took a sinful hand to find it.

A hundred years of silence

It is said that when the temple was destroyed during Aurangzeb’s reign, the priests hid a large brass bell in a well. When Ahilyabai rebuilt the temple, the bell was retrieved. The Mahant engraved on it in Sanskrit: “Only one who is free from theft, lies, or violence should ring this bell.”

People came, kings came, sages came. Everyone pulled the rope. The bell wouldn’t even budge. Gradually, people gave up. The bell hung in the corner of the temple, gathering dust. Children would ask, “Baba, why doesn’t it ring?” The priest would say, “Where can you find a sinless hand in this Kaliyuga?”

The Thief’s Arrival

Once, on the new moon day of Magha, Kashi was crowded with people. That night, a thief named Madho arrived from the village of Ghazipur. He had been stealing for fifteen years, first out of compulsion, then out of habit. That night, he thought he might find a rich man’s purse in the crowd of people visiting Vishwanath.

He didn’t even bathe at the ghat, but went straight into the temple lane. Pushed in the crowd, an old man fell. Madho picked him up. The old man’s stick broke. Madho tore his dhoti and tied it to the stick. The old man said, “Son, may God bless you.”

Madho laughed, “God doesn’t bless me.”

He reached the temple. Aarti was being performed. The priest said, if anyone is sinless today, then ring the bell. The crowd laughed. Madho stood in a corner. He thought, “I am a sinner, but let me see the bell.”

He slowly went near the bell. He placed his hand on the rope. Just then a voice came from behind, “Don’t touch it.” He turned and saw a seven-year-old girl, wearing a dirty frock and holding an earthen lamp.

The girl said, “If you ring it, it won’t ring, everyone will laugh.”

Madho asked, “Who are you?”

The girl said, “I sell flowers on the banks of the Ganges. My mother is ill. I’ve come today to offer a lamp. The priest said the bell doesn’t ring for a sinner.”

Madho asked, “Are you a sinner?”

The girl laughed, “I stole a plum yesterday and ate it. My mother didn’t have money for medicine.”

Madho’s hand stopped. For the first time, he saw someone like himself.

Pulling the Rope

The Aarti ended. The crowd began to disperse. The girl lit a lamp and placed it near the Shivalinga, then returned and said, “I saw you pick up that old man.”

Madho was startled. “You were there.”

The girl said, “Yes. You’re a thief, aren’t you?”

Madho bowed his head. The girl held his palm and said, “Let’s both pull. The sin will be divided equally.”

Madho laughed, “Sin cannot be divided.” Still, he grabbed the girl’s hand. Together, they pulled the rope.

At first, nothing happened. Then the bell shook slightly. Dust flew off. The second time, a faint echo came out, “ton.” The third time, both of them applied all their strength.

The bell rang. After a hundred years, that bell of Kashi rang. The sound was so resounding that the pigeons flew away. The priest left his plate and ran, and the crowd stopped.

The priest shouted, “Who rang it?”

Madho got scared and started running. The girl grabbed his shirt and said, “Don’t run.”

The priest saw a thief and a flower seller. He said, “Impossible. You both are sinners.”

Madho folded his hands and said, “Your Majesty, I am a thief. I have picked hundreds of pockets in my life. Today I came to steal too. But this girl caught my hand. She said, ‘Let’s share the sins.’ I thought, ‘If we can share the sins, then perhaps the virtues too.'”

The girl said, “I stole a berry.”

The priest remained silent. The Mahant came. He looked at the bell and the rope. He said, “It’s rung for the first time in a hundred years. The scriptures say you need sinless hands. You misunderstood it.”

People asked, “What does that mean?”

The monk said, “Sinlessness doesn’t mean being sinless, it means knowing your sins. The one who hides his sins has a heavy hand. The one who says, ‘I am a sinner, forgive me,’ his hand becomes light. Today, this hour has been touched by two light hands; one admitted theft, the other admitted stealing berries.”

The bell began ringing every day.

After that night, the Mahant changed the rule. Now, before the Aarti, the priest would say, “Whoever made a mistake that day should come and ring the bell.”

No one came the first day. The next day, a confectioner came and said he had adulterated the ghee. He pulled the rope, and the bell rang. Then a student came and said he had lied to his mother. The bell rang.

Madho gave up stealing. He started rowing a boat on the banks of the Ganges. The girl’s name was Gauri. Madho got her mother treated. Gauri no longer sells flowers; she lights a lamp in the temple.

People ask, “How come the bell rings every day?” The priest laughs and says, “Because in Kashi, people no longer hide their sins; they confess them.”

The silence of a hundred years wasn’t because no one in the world was holy. The silence was because everyone considered themselves holy.

The day we admit our inner theft, our own small berry theft, that very day our hands too ring the bell. And that bell of Kashi still rings today, every evening, with some gentle hand.