The year was 2013. The air in Prayagraj was thick with devotion, the scent of burning camphor and marigold flowers blending with the cool breeze from the Ganges. Rajesh and Sunita Jadhav had traveled all the way from Kolhapur, Maharashtra, to witness the grand spectacle of the Kumbh Mela. It was their first time at the sacred gathering, and they had brought their six-year-old son, Gopal, along. Gopal was a lively, curious child, his small fingers tightly wrapped around his father’s hand as they moved through the endless sea of people. His wide eyes sparkled at the sight of the Shahi Snan procession—sadhus with long, matted hair smeared in ash, majestic elephants draped in saffron cloth, conch shells blowing, and chants rising like waves in the air. “Aai, look at them!” Gopal’s voice was full of wonder as he pointed toward the Naga sadhus marching fearlessly. Sunita smiled, smoothing his hair. “Yes, beta. They are saints who have renounced everything.” ...