A deep dive into how blind faith is exploited — and why we must talk about it
India is a land of deep spirituality. For centuries, faith has been the backbone of millions of families — a source of hope, comfort, and community. But in the shadows of that same faith, a disturbing pattern has emerged over and over again: men cloaked in saffron robes and godly titles, weaponizing people’s belief systems to commit some of the most heinous crimes imaginable.
This is not a story about religion. This is a story about power, manipulation, and the catastrophic consequences of blind trust.
The Anatomy of a Crime: The Ashok Kharat Case
It began with a police complaint at a Nashik police station. Ashok Kharat filed a report claiming that a man named Dinesh Parab had sent him a nude photograph over WhatsApp — accompanied by a chilling threat: Pay me ₹5 crore, or I’ll make this viral.
The investigation found no corroborating evidence on Kharat’s phone. But as police dug deeper, the case took a stunning turn.
A woman received a WhatsApp message containing a nude image — and the woman in that image was herself. A man named Neeraj Jadhav had forwarded it with an identical threat: comply, or the image goes public.
When investigators traced the threads back, they found 35 videos in the possession of a suspect. Those videos featured Ashok Kharat himself — not as a victim, but as a perpetrator.
Kharat, who posed as an astrologer with “divine powers,” would invite women to his office under the pretext of solving their life problems. He mixed drugs into water stored in a brass vessel, and once the woman lost consciousness, he would assault her. He reportedly sexually exploited over 100 women this way — then used psychological terror to ensure their silence, threatening to harm their husbands if they ever spoke up.
He even sold cheap jewelry purchased from Mumbai markets as “God-gifted divine ornaments” at inflated prices — a small con within a much larger, more sinister scheme.
The Dera Sacha Sauda Scandal: When an Empire Shields a Predator
In 2002, a handwritten anonymous letter surfaced — addressed to the then Prime Minister of India, Atal Bihari Vajpayee.
The letter was written by a sadhvi (a female disciple) living inside Dera Sacha Sauda, a massive religious organization based in Sirsa, Haryana, led by Gurmeet Ram Rahim Singh. In the letter, she described working 18-hour days, being cut off from her family, forbidden from speaking with other women or outsiders — and being repeatedly raped by Gurmeet Ram Rahim Singh himself.
She described her first assault in disturbing detail. Summoned to his chambers late at night, she found him watching adult films with a revolver placed beside him. He invoked her vow of surrendering “body, mind, and soul” to her guru, then justified his actions by comparing himself to Lord Krishna — claiming even Krishna had gopis (devotees).
When she resisted, he threatened her directly: “I’ll shoot you, and no one will question it. The Chief Ministers of Punjab and Haryana are in my pocket. Central ministers seek my help.”
He then cited the murder of Fakir Chand as a warning — a man whose killing, allegedly ordered by Ram Rahim, remains unsolved to this day.
According to the letter, there were 40 to 50 women inside the Dera being regularly assaulted. A strict rule prevented them from speaking to anyone — family, other disciples, or staff. Violations were met with punishment.
The letter eventually found its way to journalist Ramchandra Chhatrapati, who published it verbatim in his newspaper Poora Sach. Shortly after, Chhatrapati was shot multiple times outside his home and later died from his injuries. Around the same time, a man named Ranjit Singh — suspected of leaking the letter — was also murdered. His sister had been a sadhvi at the Dera.
It took 15 to 18 years for justice to be delivered.
When Ram Rahim was finally convicted, his followers rioted. Approximately 38 people died in the violence that followed.
And yet, between 2022 and now, Ram Rahim has spent over 400 days outside prison — released repeatedly on furlough under politically convenient circumstances, including just two weeks before a state election in a region where his organization commands millions of votes.
Asaram Bapu: The Cycle of Worship and Denial
In 2013, Asaram Bapu was accused of sexually assaulting a 16-year-old girl at his Jodhpur ashram, under the guise of “spiritual treatment.”
What followed was, in many ways, even more troubling than the crime itself.
When Asaram was granted bail, his supporters celebrated. They danced in the streets. Prominent religious figures rushed to defend him — comparing his situation to the birth of Lord Krishna in a prison cell, calling it part of divine leela (play). Other spiritual influencers went on record justifying his actions or dismissing the case entirely.
The Political Equation
None of this happens in a vacuum.
Across India, self-styled spiritual leaders have cultivated massive followings — and with followers come votes. Politicians from across the political spectrum — regardless of party — have historically sought endorsements from these figures, attended their events, and bowed before them publicly.
In 2007, Dera Sacha Sauda publicly supported a political party in Punjab. In the Malwa region alone, that support is credited with winning 37 out of 67 seats. That is the kind of electoral currency that makes governments look the other way.
When faith organizations control millions of followers, they become political powerhouses. And political powerhouses are rarely touched — until the evidence becomes too overwhelming to ignore.
So Why Does This Keep Happening?
The answer is uncomfortable: because we allow it to.
These so-called godmen don’t succeed through force alone. They succeed because they understand human psychology with frightening precision. They target people in pain — people facing financial ruin, illness, broken marriages, or fear of the future. They offer certainty in a world that feels uncertain. They promise miracles. They manufacture dependency.
And once a person has surrendered their rational judgment to a figure of “divine authority,” they become extraordinarily vulnerable.
Fear is the core product these men sell. Fear of bad luck, of divine punishment, of misfortune. And once fear takes root, it’s easy to control.
A Message That Must Be Said
This piece is not an attack on faith. Spirituality, in its truest form, uplifts. It brings peace, community, and purpose.
But faith should never require you to surrender your critical thinking. A genuine spiritual teacher will never ask you to meet them in private. They will never threaten you. They will never demand your silence.
If someone claiming divine powers asks you for your body, your money, or your secrecy — that is not God speaking. That is manipulation.
To every parent: your devotion is your own choice. But please, do not send your daughters — or sons — alone to any individual, no matter how many followers they have or how many miracles they claim to perform. Not in the name of spirituality. Not in the name of healing. Not ever.
The divine has never needed a private chamber to work its miracles.
