Narhari Sonar lived in Pandharpur, but was a devotee of Lord Shiva – such a devotee who never visited Shri Vitthalji. Despite living in Pandharpur, he never visited Pandharinath Shri Pandurang. He had the unique pride of being a devotee of Lord Shiva. Once it so happened that a gentleman brought him gold to make a girdle for Shri Vitthal’s waist and also told him the measurement of his waist. He prepared the girdle, but it was four inches larger than the waist. When he was asked to make it smaller, it became four inches smaller than the waist. When it was made larger again, it increased by four inches; when it was made smaller again, it decreased by four inches. This happened four times. Helpless Narhari Sonar decided to go and take the measurement himself. But to avoid seeing Shri Vitthal Bhagwan, he blindfolded himself and stretched his hands to feel around. His hands touched the idol of Shankar with five faces, ten hands, snake-like hair, matted hair on the head and Ganga in the matted hair. He was sure that it was Shri Shankar. So he removed the blindfold and saw Shri Vitthal. Then he closed his eyes and felt around and again he was embraced by the same Panchavaktra Chandrashekhar Shri Shankar. On opening his eyes, Vitthal and on closing his eyes, Shankar! This happened three times. Then Narhari Sonar realized that Shankar is the same as Vitthal (Vishnu) and Vitthal is the same as Shankar; both are Hari-Hara. Then his worship, which was limited to one region, became very liberal and widespread and he joined the Warkari group of Shri Vitthal devotees. Goldsmithing was his profession. How he realized to worship God ‘by his own deeds’ while living in this attitude, is shown by one of his abhanga, in which Narhari the goldsmith says – ‘Lord! I am your goldsmith; I deal in your name. This body is a necklace around the neck; its soul is gold. Making a mould of triguna, I filled it with Brahmarasa. Taking the hammer of discretion, I crushed lust and anger with it and with the scissors of mind-intellect I kept stealing the name of Ram. Weighing both the letters with the fork of knowledge, keeping them in the bag, I crossed the road carrying the bag on my shoulder. This Narhari the goldsmith, O Hari! is your slave; he worships you day and night.’