That night, I couldn’t sleep.

A strange, unexplainable fear had crept into me. I must have been 20 or 21, in my undergraduate days. I was someone who always slept alone in my room, often with a book in hand—this was a time before mobiles and endless reels took over our nights.

But that night was different.

The fear I felt was darker than the fear of darkness itself. It wasn’t something outside—it felt like something had entered within me.

I was trembling. For the first time in my life, I felt completely helpless. Every sound seemed amplified—the rustling of leaves, the faint traffic noise, the silence between them. The windows looked eerie. The night felt alive… and not in a comforting way.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

I felt an overwhelming urge to not be alone. I went downstairs and slept in the hall, close to where my parents were. Even then, the uneasiness lingered.

The next morning, my parents asked me what had happened. I had no answer—only that an inexplicable fear had taken hold of me.

What puzzled me even more was this: the fear didn’t leave with the night. It stayed with me through the day.

That’s when I did something unusual for myself back then—I went to a nearby temple.

And as I sat there, I began retracing my previous day, searching for a trigger.

That morning, I had gone to my father’s bookshop. It was my habit to pick a shelf, take out all the books, and reorganize them—by subject, author, or demand.

That day, I had chosen a shelf filled with books on “Mantras and Nitya Pooja”.

I had meticulously arranged everything.

Sahasranamas were sorted—Shiva, Vishnu, Lakshmi, Durga…

Ashtotharas were categorized—by deities and even by numbers like 108 and 54…

Chalisas were neatly divided—Sai Chalisa, Durga Chalisa…

And then came the Hanuman Chalisa section.

For some reason, I hadn’t given it the same care.

The attention, the devotion, the involvement I had shown to the other sections… was missing here. I had placed those books casually, almost indifferently.

And in that moment at the temple, it struck me.

That was it.

Without wasting another second, I rushed back to the shop. I took out the entire Hanuman Chalisa section, folded my hands, bowed down, and sincerely asked for forgiveness.

And then…

Just like that—the fear vanished.

Instantly.

Completely.

It was as if something had lifted off me in a fraction of a second.

I stood there, stunned.

In that moment, I experienced something I had never felt before—the sheer, undeniable presence of Bhagwan Hanuman. It made me feel incredibly small, almost insignificant before His power.

For a fleeting second, I felt like Arjuna witnessing the Vishwaroopa of Krishna—overwhelmed, humbled, surrendered.

I bowed in complete surrender.

And I thanked Him—for allowing me to feel His presence.

That one incident transformed me.

From a young boy who casually dismissed Hindu Gods as myth or imagination… I became a believer. A devotee. A shraddhaalu of Bhagwan Hanuman. It made feel that he is in our realm answering, responding to each of our activities in a swift nano second.

If you ask me today—what is the one thing a person can do to overcome any kind of fear?

Chant the “Hanuman Chalisa”

Everything else… will fall into place.

Hanuman Chalisa

He is Here, Right now!

Tum Rakshak , Kaahu Ko Darna!

Rithwik Subramanya is a Content creator and public speaker known for his relatable short-form videos on life, spirituality and dharma. He is also the founder and proprietor of Subbu Publications.