By Gurudevi Nirmalananda
You may wonder why Baba gets two birthdays every year as well as two death anniversaries. I honor him according to both the lunar calendar, in accordance with the customs of India, as well as the solar calendar, which is more familiar to me.
The bottom line is that he was too great for one day to commemorate properly. In the many interviews he gave while on tour in America, he said he came to start a meditation revolution. And he did what he said he would do.
Yet he always passed the honors back to his own Guru. The first time I went to Nityananda’s temple in Ganeshpuri, there were two black scorch marks on the cement in front. They came from Muktananda Baba’s offering to Nityananda. Before Baba left on his third world tour, he went and burned a pile of camphor pellets in each spot at 3:00 am every morning for a month. In the privacy of the early morning hours, there was no one to intrude on his personal puja to his Guru.
The scorch marks took a decade to fade. I often sat next to them, in awe of what Baba had been preparing himself to do. While most Shaktipat Gurus give initiation to only a few people, maybe even 100, Baba gave this mystical gift to thousands and thousands. His ability to transmit Divine energy was beyond compare, not to mention how he burned up the worldly density from so many.
The blessings of the Guru are wondrous and extraordinary.
— Swami Muktananda, Secret of the Siddhas page 67
When Baba returned to Ganeshpuri after three years in America, he went to Nityananda’s temple. This time it was the middle of the morning, when the doors were open so he could bow. But a mere bow was not enough.
Baba laid out in a full pranam, belly down on the ground, with his arms outstretched toward Nityananda. Then Baba rolled sideways onto his back, then the other way. He said that he was covering himself with the dust of his Guru’s feet.
A few days later, I went with him along with 150 others. We chanted Shree Guru Gita for Nityananda. I sat where I could see them both, but I really only had eyes for Baba. His presence and his devotion to his Guru filled into cracks and crevices of my heart that I hadn’t known I had.
Sometimes a person comes to me and says, “I met him.” Our eyes meet and we nod. There are no words that do justice to that meeting. Beyond words, beyond understanding, I continue to uncover more and more of what he gave me.
While he is gone, he is still here. A yogi merges into God while still alive, so they don’t leave when they are done with their body. He told us this again and again, to prepare us for his departure. Except he is still here. I revel in his presence with every breath. Jai Muktananda!
