HAIDAKHANWALE BABAJI

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Let me take you back to the year 1976. I was at my Guru’s place, my Babaji’s ashram. It is a time that remains etched vividly in my memory.

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We were talking about a fire ceremony, a Yagna, that we used to conduct down by the riverside. I remember we had put up camps for hundreds of people right there on the banks. It was terribly cold... biting cold, but we had this big fire going. We would go down in the morning, and there was Babaji’s special pujari, a High Priest named Shastri-ji. He was a man deeply versed in the Shastras, literature, and the Vedas. He knew exactly how to pronounce every syllable correctly and conduct the ceremony with absolute precision. I can still hear him chanting those mantras, invoking the divine.

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I stayed there in the tents, braving all that weather, and from then on, it became a great pleasure to look forward to these visits.

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It wasn't just me; I was there with my wife and my children. The children, perhaps even more than me, enjoyed the camping and the bonfires. For them, it was a wonderful outing, an adventure in the hills.

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And how can I ever forget that one specific Purnahuti, the final offering? On the last day, the skies just opened up. It started pouring rain. It really rained hard; all the canvas tents were soaked, and everything was wet. But amidst it all, Babaji came downstairs and conducted the last Purnahuti. He stood there, giving his blessings throughout the storm. It was an experience I cherished then, and continued to cherish for the rest of my life.

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I know that after 1984 or 1985, physically, I gave up. I could not climb up those steps or make the journey into the hills like I used to. I stopped going there physically, but I have never stopped meeting him. He is within me. He meets me all the time.

I see him in my dreams. I seek him whenever I want... and there he is... My Babaji.