Explaining  Papaji is like talking about the Self: words are short or lacking, inadequate, and inappropriate. How to describe that unconditional love, that infinite wisdom, kindness,  patience, and sweetness? How to talk about his silence, a silence which communicates so richly? How to speak about the unnameable beauty of the Self that shines through him? Whoever came in touch with him said that he seemed like ‘the happiest man on earth.’ His happiness is contagious, overwhelming. 

His sense of humour was spot-on, sharp, hilarious. His Satsang was always an occasion full of roaring laughter. He never condemned, criticised, or judged anyone. He was egoless, mindless. What cames through him was the clarity of his Heart, which is the Truth. He had that wisdom to see the essence, the Heart, and not the name and form of those who came to him. As a real yogi, his words and deeds sometimes surprised and puzzled, but the passage of time will inevitably vindicate him and demonstrate the grandeur of his wisdom. He was delightful, mischievous, playful, and has incredible fun by just being who he is. His Satsangs were touched by beauty, with songs and music that people offer gratefully to him. There are moments of love, moments of truth. In Satsang with Papaji, it’s like returning home, to the now that has always been the true home.

Papaji first experienced his samadhi or spiritual experience when he was only nine years of age. Papaji has spoken in many Satsangs of his early childhood days. The year was 1919. The British (then ruling Pakistan ) had victory in the First World War, and so had given all school children a one-month holiday so that they could join in the victory celebrations. Papaji was about nine years of age during that time. So Papaji’s mother de­cided that this unscheduled vacation would be an ideal time to go and visit some of their relatives who lived in Lahore and it was summertime so mangoes were available in plenty.

One evening, while Papaji was sitting with everyone in his relative’s house in Lahore, some women started to prepare a mixture of mango, milk, and almond drink for everyone. It is a very tasty treat for young children, but when a glassful of it was offered to young child Papaji, he made no attempt to stretch out his hand to receive it. It was not that Papaji didn’t want to drink it. The truth was, he was just consumed and engulfed by an experience that had made him so peaceful and happy, Papaji was unable to physically respond to the offered glass. Papaji’s mother and other women present were all shocked and alarmed by sudden inactivity. They all gathered around Papaji trying to decide what had happened and what to do?. Papaji’s eyes were closed. Though he was unable to respond to their queries, he could clearly hear the dis­cussion going on around him and was fully aware of all their attempts to bring him back to normal state. They were shaking him, gently slapped and pinched his cheeks.

Someone even lifted him up in the air, but there was no physical response from Papaji. The experience was so overwhelming for Papaji, it had effectively paralysed his ability to respond to any ex­ternal instigation. They tried for an hour everything they could think of to bring Papaji back to a normal state of con­sciousness, but all their attempts failed. 

In those days there were no doctors or psychiatrists to rush for treatment. When something unexpected had happened, the standard response was to take the victim to the local mosque so that the Mulla could perform an exorcism. Papaji was  car­ried to the local mosque and the Mulla, chanted some words while simultaneously running some metal tongs over young Papaji’s body. The Mulla, with his usual opti­mism, said he would soon recover, but Mulla’s efforts, like Papaji’s family, failed to bring him out of paralysed state, Papaji was carried home and put to a bed. 

For almost two full days, Papaji stayed in a peaceful, blissful, happy state, unable to communicate with anyone, around him, but still fully aware of the various activities that were going on around him. After two days Papaji  opened eyes again, mother, who was an ardent Krishna bhakta (devotee), came up to Papaji  and asked, ‘Did you see Krishna?’ Seeing how happy Papaji was, she had dismissed her initial idea of an exorcism and had agreed it must be a mystical experience including her own favorite deity Lord Krishna. Mother somehow convinced Papaji that the happi­ness had been caused by coming into contact with Krishna. She encouraged him to become a devotee of Krishna, gave him a child picture of Krishna, and even taught him how to worship. Papaji got fascinated with the child picture of Krishna and love and devotion was flowing naturally. 

Soon enough, Krishna began to appear before Papaji, taking the same form as the picture given by his mother.  He would regu­larly appear at night, play with Papaji, and even try to sleep in his bed. Papaji says that Krishna’s physical form was as real as his own, he could feel Krishna and touch Krishna — but Krishna could also appear to Papaji in a more subtle form. If he covered the blanket over his head, he still could see Krishna. Even when his eyes were closed, the image of Krishna was still there in front of him . Papaji describes  Krishna as full of very playful energy, always appearing after he goes to bed, Krishna’s childish and enthusiastic playing kept Papaji awake and could not sleep.

This became a nuisance for Papaji for he was not able to sleep and he always felt tired. Papaji now thought that seeing Krishna was as normal experience for everybody. From the time  Krishna first came into Papaji’s life, he lost interest in his schoolwork. He would sit in class, apparently paying attention, but his mind and heart would be in the form of Krishna. Sometimes, when waves of bliss would surge up inside him, he would abandon himself to the experience and lose contact with the outside world.

Later on in life, Papaji eventually traveled all across India in search of a more satisfying explanation of the experience he had as a child. He was simply deeply in search of God. Papaji was by now a second lieutenant in the army. He would enter various ashrams wearing his army boots and directly present himself to the spiritual  Gurus like Swami Sivananda, Tapovan Swami, Ananda Mayi Ma, Swami Ramdas, asking the question: ‘Have you seen God? Can you show me, God?’ He never felt satisfied with the answers that he generally received. ‘They tried to give a mantra, or to practice meditation.‘ All of them made a point of saying that God could not be produced like a rabbit out of a conjuror’s hat and that if you wanted to see God then you had to undergo years of strenuous sadhana. Some of them also stated: ‘We have grown long grey beards in search of God, and you think you can just walk in here and see Him?‘ Papaji eventually had to re­turn to his father’s house, disillusioned and dispirited.

One day a sadhu appeared at Papaji’s front door, asking alms for food. He invited the sadhu inside the house, ‘Come and sit down and have lunch with me.’ The sadhu sat down and Papaji offered him some food. He then asked the sadhu the most important question that was stll in his mind: ‘Can you show me God? If not? Do you know of anyone who can?’ To much of his surprise, the sadhu gave a very positive answer: ‘Yes, I know a person who can show you God. If you go and see that man, everything will be right for you. His name is Ramana Maharshi. He lives in Sri Ramanasramam, Tiruvannamalai’ He then explained to  Papaji how to reach that place: ‘Take a train to Ma­dras (Chennai, India). When you get to Madras, go to Egmore station. That is where the meter gauge trains leave from. Take a train from there to a place called Villupuram. You have to change trains there. Then catch a train from there to Tiruvannamalai.’ Papaji very carefully noted down all the instructions given to him by the sadhu. 

Papaji was out of a job and money and did not know how to reach Madras to meet Bhagavan. One afternoon at a tea stall Papaji saw a job advertisement in the newspaper. The British army were looking for an ex-army officer to manage all the stores in a canteen which was being run for British servicemen in Madras. Papaji looked for the address to apply to and found that the contractor who had placed the adver­tisment was based in Peshawar, a nearby city to his home. He sent an application there, along with his photo in an army uniform, and was immediately selected for the job. Not only that, the contractor gave money to go to Madras and told Papaji not to report for duty for one month. Thus Papaji received money to go to meet Bhagavan and an opportunity to spend time in his presence before joining work as he had some days left to start work.

When Papaji reached Tiruvannamalai, he was disgusted to see the same sadhu who had visited his house.‘This man is a fraud,’ he murmured to himself. ‘He appears in my house in the Punjab, tells me to go to Tiruvannamalai, then hops on the train so that he can get there before me.’ Papaji was so annoyed and decided not to go inside the hall where Bhagavan was sitting. Papaji decided to return back when one of the residents walked by him and asked, ‘Aren’t you from the North? You look like a North Indian.’ Haven’t you just arrived?’ Noting that Papaji was making preparations to leave told him: ‘Aren’t you going to stay here for at least a couple of days?’ Papaji explained to him how the sadhu visited his house and advertised himself by telling him to come to Tiruvannamalai. To that, the resident of Ashram said to Papaji that he was mistaken because Bhagavan hadn’t never left the place for the last forty-eight years. He then intro­duced Papaji  to the manager so that he could help him find a place to stay in the ashram. 

As a regular practice after lunch in the ashram, Bhagavan went to rest and no one was allowed to meet him at that time untill 2:30 PM. Papaji was not aware and thought that it was the best time to meet Bhagavan for a private talk and entered. Krishna Swami the personal attendant of Bhagavan stopped him, yet Bhagavan heard him from inside and told Krishna Swami to let Papaji inside.

Papaji aggressively questioned Bhagavan ‘Are you the man who came to see me at my house in  Punjab?’ But Bhagavan remained silent. Papaji tried again questioning. ‘Did you come to my house and tell me to come here? Are you the man who sent me here?’ Again the Bhagavan did not answer and was silent. Since Bhagavan was unwilling to answer either of these ques­tions, Papaji moved to the main purpose of his visit and asked directly ‘Have you seen God?’ And if you have, can you enable me to see Him? I am willing to pay any price, even my life, but the part of the bargain is that you must show me, God.’

Bhagavan answered, ‘No, I cannot show you God or enable you to see God because God is not an object that can be seen. God is the subject. He is the seer. Don’t give importance to objects that can be seen. Find out who the seer is.’ He also added, ‘You alone are God,’ Bhagavan’s words did not impress Papaji, and he felt it was another excuse like other spiritual Masters he had previously met.

Later, Bhagavan asked him to find out who this ‘I’ was who wanted to see God and, as he concluded his words, he gazed into Papaji’s eyes.  After this, Papaji’s whole body began to tremble and shake. A thrill of nervous energy shot through his body, nerve endings felt as if they were dancing and his hair stood up straight. Papaji became aware from within of the spiritual heart. Within the heart, Papaji felt something like a closed bud, very shining and blue-colored. Bhagavan took Papaji to a state of inner silence and felt this bud open and bloom. It was an extraordinary experience, Papaji never had before. He wasn’t expecting any kind of experience, so it totally surprised him when it hap­pened. 

Papaji thus decided that the place is very nice, like the mountain is very beautiful, there are forests, there are monkeys, and there are peacocks living there. He went to the forest and stayed there. He had one month left before he had to start his job in Madras and thus he only spent five days with Bhagavan. So Papaji went to the other side of the hill for some time. Stayed there for about a week, immersed himself in devo­tional practices. Krishna would often appear before Papaji, and both spent a lot of time playing together. 

Then the time came to leave, so Papaji decided to go and prostrate before Bhagavan and then take leave to Madras. There was some attraction towards Bhagavan even though Papaji did not like him at first. He was there again, and once again Bhagavan was alone. Very few people went to see him. Bhagavan asked Papaji, ‘Where have you been? Where are you living? Why didn’t you come for so many days?” Papaji was very proud of his achievements and, feeling superior to Bhagavan, replied:  ‘I have been playing with my Krishna.‘ ‘Very good, very nice,‘ Bhagavan said. ‘You have been playing with Krishna?‘ Papaji replied  ‘Yes, I was. I have always been.‘ Bhagavan said ‘Do you see him now?‘ ‘Not now,‘ Papaji said. ‘When I have a vision I see him, sometimes in the night also. When I have a vision I see him, not always. That’s why I always want to see him.‘ ‘Then Bhagavan commented: ‘So Krishna comes and plays with you and then He disappears. What is the use of a God who appears and disappears? If he is a real God, then He must be with you all the time. Find out who the seer is. Find out who you are. That does not disappear. It is always there, whether you are awake or dreaming or asleep. This seer is always there. Now you tell me who this seer is.‘ Papaji was not happy with the answer and did not understand who this seer was. Papaji asked for a mantra to chant from Bhagavan, but he even denied that. However,  later he gave Papaji a mantra in a dream.

Papaji returned to Madras, took up his new job at the canteen, found a nice big house to live with his family, and began to work. He would lock up himself inside the prayer room, chanting the name of Krishna 50,000 times from 2:30 a.m. to 9:30 am in the early mornings. Also, after returning from work he carried on chanting the name of Krishna until it was time for him to go to sleep. Sometimes even slept in the prayer room, thus effectively cutting himself off from all interaction with his family. 

One early morning at around 2am, Papaji heard voices outside the prayer room door. He first thought that it may be his wife, but as he had strictly instructed her not to disturb him, he thought it may be some relatives who arrived on the early morning train. With curiosity and astonishment,  upon opening the door, Papaji saw no relatives but the shining forms of Lord Rama, Sita, Lakshmana, and Hanuman standing outside. He couldn’t understand what they were doing here, because for most of his life,  he had been calling for Krishna and he never had any feeling or much devotion towards Lord Rama. Nevertheless, Papaji prostrated to their Lotus Feet with great awe and reverence.

Sita raised her hand and spoke  to Papaji: ‘We have come from Ayodhya (Birthplace of Lord Rama, India) to visit you because Hanuman told us that there was a very great Krishna bhakta (devotee) here in Madras.‘ Papaji had a very clear look at the raised hand of Sita, noting all the lines that were on the palm. That image imprinted itself permanently in Papaji’s memory because whenever he recalled that vision, he could see all the lines on that hand just as they were on the day that Sita appeared. Also, their bodies were not like normal human bodies because Papaji could see through them transparently, they were all exquisitely beautiful. After some time the vision changed into a landscape, a mountain, and a great garuda (eagle) flying in the sky, moving towards Papaji, but never reaching him. There was no perception of time while all this vision was going on.

After this experience, Papaji could no longer remember or chant the Krishna mantra or read spiritual books. But his mind was very calm and at peace. The following weekend, he took the train on Saturday and made his way once more to the hall where Bhagavan was sitting. Similarly to his first visit, he felt that his business with Bhagavan was private, so he took another opportunity to talk to Bhagavan when no one else was around. He thus put forward his story to Bhagavan: ‘For twenty-five years I have been doing sadhana, mostly repeating the name of Krishna 50,000 repetitions a day. I also used to read a lot of spiritual literature. Then Rama, Sita, Lak­shmana, and Hanuman appeared before me. After they left, I can no longer carry on with my practice. I can’t repeat the name anymore. I can’t read my books. I can’t meditate. I feel very quiet inside but there is no longer any desire to put my attention on God. In fact, I can’t do it even if I try. My mind refuses to engage itself in thoughts of God. What has happened to me and what should I do?‘

Bhagavan gently replied: ‘Your Japa (chanting),  reading, and meditation have brought you to your spiritual destination. You don’t need them any­more. You yourself did not give up your practices, they left you of their own accord because they have served their pur­pose. You have arrived.‘ Then Bhagavan looked very intently at Papaji. He could feel that his whole body and mind were being washed with waves of purity. They were being purified by Bhagavan’s silent gaze. He could feel Bhagavan looking intently into his Heart. Under that spell ­binding gaze, he felt every atom of his body being purified and a new body was being created. A process transformation was going on, it was like the old body was dying, atom by atom, and a new body was being created in its place. Then, suddenly there was a sudden impact of recognition or becoming aware of the Self. Papaji knew that his spiritual quest had definitely ended, but the source of that knowledge will always remain indescribable.

Papaji got up and prostrated to Bhagavan’s lotus feet in gratitude. And had finally understood the teachings. In a lifetime of spiritual seeking, Papaji felt had met hundreds of sadhus, swamis, and Gurus, but none of them had told the simple truth the way the Bhagavan had done. None of them had said, ‘God is within you. He is not apart from you. You alone are God. If you find the source of the mind by asking yourself “Who am I?” you will experience Him in your Heart as the Self.’ 

Bhagavan explained to him tgat it’s like a train or car, and once you arrive at your destination you leave the vehicle behind. The same applies to spiritual practices, which dissolve once they have brought the practitioner to his goal. Papaji listened with all his heart to his Master’s words. The silent gaze of Bhagavan’s cleansing presence pervaded his whole body and mind. It is then that he recognised Himself and understood that this was the experience that he had originally at the age of eight. His spiritual quest had ended.

Bhagavan never performed any miracles in front of his devotees or disciples. The only ‘miracles’ he indulged in were those of inner transformation. By a word, a look, a gesture, or merely by remaining in silence, he could quieten the minds of people around him, enabling them to become more aware of who they really were. Papaji would sometimes accompany Bhagavan on his walks around the Ashram. He would silently observe Bhagavan’s disapproval of the workers who wanted to prostrate to him rather than do work. Everything he did had a lesson for his disciples. Every step he took was a teaching in itself. Bhagavan preferred to work in a low-key, unspectacular way without ever demonstrating his power. Around him was always a very simple and subtle emanation of grace, which seeped into the hearts of those who came in touch with him.

One such incident that Papaji witnessed illustrates very clearly the subtle and indirect that Bhagavan worked. A woman brought her dead son to the Ashram. The boy had apparently died of a snake bite. The woman cried and begged the Bhagavan to bring her son back to life, but he did not respond to her repeated requests. After a few hours, the Ashram manager told her to take the corpse away. As she was leaving the Ashram, she met some kind of a snake charmer who claimed that he could cure her son. The man did something to the boy’s hand where the snake had been bitten, and the boy immediately came back to life.

Papaji observed that Bhagavan might have consciously done nothing to help the boy, but at a deeper, subtle level, his awareness of the problem caused the right man to appear at the right place. Bhagavan, of course, disclaimed all responsibility for the miraculous cure. ‘Is that so?’ was his only response when someone told him about the boy’s dramatic recovery.

In July 1947, a month before India got Independence, Devaraja Mudaliar told Papaji about the problems which he could face if he did not bring his family to India from the West Punjab, which was soon to become a part of Pakistan. Papaji  told him that he was not going because he didn’t want to leave the company of Bhagavan. 

Afrer Mudaliar told  Bhagavan that Papaji’s family seemed to be stranded in West Punjab and he did not want to go there, Bhagavan told Papaji: ‘There will be a lot of trouble in the area you come from. Why don’t you go and bring your family out?‘ Though this amounted to Bhagavan saying: ‘I am with you wherever you are,’ the way in which he spoke to Papaji made it clear that he should go, and Papaji humbly accepted this decision. 

Papaji prostrated before Bhagavan and for the first time touched his feet as an act of gratitude, reverence, love, and respect. He will not normally let anyone touch his feet, but this was a special occasion and he did not object to Papaji. Before rising, he collected some of the dust from beneath his feet and put it in his pocket as a sacred memento. Papaji was especially seeking his blessings because he had an intuition that this was their final parting before he left the Ashram and made his way back to Lahore. 

The atmosphere there was very bad and tense because the partition of the country was happening after Indian independence, and thus it also became a matter between Hindus and Muslims. Papaji went to the station and bought a ticket for his hometown – Lyallpur. In those violent days, Hindus and Muslims were traveling in separate train coaches so that they could protect each other in case there was any trouble. The nearly empty coaches were those occupied by the Hindus. In that situation an inner voice, the voice of Master Bhagavan, was heard by Papaji to silently say: ‘Go and sit with the Muslims in their compartment. Nothing will happen to you there.‘ It seemed like a good idea for Papaji but he had a doubt about his ability to fool Muslim fellow passengers into believing that he was one of them.

Papaji dressed differently and had a clearly visible ‘OM’ tattooed on the back of one of his hands. But he listened to the inner voice and took his seat with the Muslims. No one questioned him in the Muslim coach. Somewhere nearer to the countryside. Muslims stopped the train and all the passengers in the Hindu coaches were gunned down. Nobody paid any attention to Papaji, who was clearly a Hindu sitting in a Muslim compartment.

On reaching Lyallpur by train, he traveled to his family home and found thirty-four members of his family, mostly women, stranded there. Finally, Papaji succeeded in bringing all family back safely to India. Bhagavan had sent Papaji to Lyallpur, Punjab to do his duty because he never permitted his devotees to abandon their family responsibilities. The word of assurance of Bhagavan ‘I am with you wherever you are’ had sent Papaji to Punjab to fulfill all family responsibilities.

Even in a highly tense environment of utter confusion and disorder during partition, Papaji was able to secure train seats for a large family and brought them out of danger on the last train that left Lahore for India. He took his family to Lucknow because he had an old friend from his army time. There was no question of returning see Bhagavan in Tiruvannamalai because ahead of him was the task of taking care of the family as as the sole bread earner. Arriving in India with little financial resources, it became his responsibility to feed and support a large family. Papaji had to work very hard day and night to keep his family going.

After a couple of years passed, one evening at 8:47 PM on April 14, 1950, Papaji was walking down a street in Lucknow when he suddenly felt an enormous spasm in his chest, which nearly knocked him down to the ground. He thought it might be some sort of heart attack. A few seconds later he saw a few people around him pointing to a large meteor, which was trailing across the sky. This was the same meteor that thousands of people all over India saw in the first few seconds after the Bhagavan’s Mahasamadhi or exiting his body.

Many years later, while sitting on the banks of the River  Ganges, Papaji had a very extraordinary vision of various incarnations through time. He witnessed the Self-moving from the body to body, from form to form. It went through plants, through animals, through birds, through human bodies, each form at different places and different times. The sequence was extraordinarily long, and he visualised his own body finally appearing as the last one of the sequence, followed by the radiant form of Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi. The vision then ended. The appearance of Bhagavan had ended the sequence of births and rebirths. After Bhagavan’s entry into Papaji’s life, the Self had finally taken the form of Papaji which would not incarnate anymore. As he watched the endless incarnations roll by, he also ex­perienced time progressing at its normal speed. That is to say, it really felt as if millions of years were elapsing. Yet when his normal consciousness returned, Papaji realised that the whole vision duration felt like an instant of time.

The vision by the Ganga brought home this truth to Papaji very vividly. He knew that all his lifetimes in samsara were unreal, that the Bhagavan had woken him up from the worldly imaginary nightmare by showing him the Self that he really is. Now, freed from that ridiculous samsara, and speaking from the standpoint of the Self, the only reality, Papaji says, ‘Nothing has ever come into exist­ence; nothing has ever happened; the unchanging, formless Self alone exists.’ That is Papaji’s experience, and that is the ex­perience of everyone who has realised their Self.

Bhagavan had destroyed the last remaining drop of Papaji’s ignorance with a single glance. Papaji had very high regard for Ramana Maharshi, and in his words explained it very beautifully: ‘I am his disciple! He is my Master. How can I throw him away into the past? I never think it is I, Poonja (Papaji), who is speaking. If I ever thought that this person called Poonja was speaking to you, I have no right to sit here because whatever would come out of my mouth would be false. It is my own Master who speaks. I am sitting here introducing you to my teacher and his teachings. He is the teacher; not I. Poonja has gone for good, but the Master remains and will always remain. He is seated in my heart as my own imperishable Self.‘

Papaji’s Mahasamadhi was on the 6th of September 1997. He left his body in the intensive-care ward of a Lucknow hospital. He succumbed to a disease which the doctors called ‘acute respiratory failure. Papaji was cremated the following day and his ashes were immersed in the Ganga a few days later by Surendra, his son, and all devotees accompanied him.

Though his health had been poor for some time, Papaji continued to give regular public Satsangs until 25th of August (Krishna’s (Janmashtami) Birthday), and the never-ending stream of devotees were made welcome at his home until a severe attack of viral fever, bronchitis and asthma forced his family to admit him to hospital on 2nd  September. Papaji lived to 87 years old serving  the fragrance of peace and silence to those were attracted to it in his presence. 

There is one more chapter of Papaji’s life journey after retirement. that bares mentioning. In the year 1966 after retirement, he started traveling extensively around India. In the year 1968, Papaji met Ganga Meera in Rishikesh on the bank of the River Ganga.

Ganga Meera (Genevieve De Coux) was born in 1947, in Namur, Belgium. On the eve of her third-year exams at the Brussels University, while studying her philosophy paper, she stumbled upon a saying of Socrates which hit her straight in the heart: ‘Know thyself.‘ Realising that this was precisely what she had always been looking for, she instantly dropped her studies and set out to India by road in search of a living Buddha.

She reached the Himalayan foothills of Rishikesh where she then began to lead meditative and ascetic sadhu life by the Ganges in caves. She was waiting to meet her Master. The local people soon began to call her Meera like the princess who relinquished all for the love of Krishna.  Her passport visa had expired and she was running out of money. She decided to spend her last few rupees at a tea shop to drink a good cup of tea. While sitting down reading a book of poetry by Kabir, she was approached by a tall, impressive Indian man (Papaji). Looking at the book in her hands, he kindly told Meera that if she needed any help she could find him every morning beside the Ganga, at the Ram Joola riverside. Meera refused help, but two nights later, in her dream, the face of this man (Papaji) suddenly appeared to her. 

At five in the morning, Meera went looking for him. Papaji was at the meeting point and started to laugh when he saw her coming. She sat down in front of him and had an incredible experience of awakening. Papaji disappeared as he returned back to his family in Lucknow. She decided to wait for Papaji under the very tree where they had met and spent eight months meditating. People started to consider her a saint. Miraculously Papaji reappeared. From that very moment on both stayed together beside the Ganga living as Master and disciple. 

After a couple of months, in Vrindavan, they became lovers. Papaji decided that they should marry and when they returned to  Rishikesh, they made their vow to each other on the banks of the sacred River Ganga. He later brought Meera to Lucknow to introduce her to his parents. They were very happy and accepted her with lots of love. Papaji and Meera were staying together in a home named Vrindavan together. 

One afternoon in October 1969, Ganga Meera was having a nap. Suddenly she woke up with a startle! A man wearing a brown cassock was touching her feet while looking at her intensely with his magnificent blue eyes. She immediately recognised him as Saint Francis.  A deep divine fear took over her heart beating to bursting point, she ran straight to Papaji’s room. Meera cried: ‘I’m scared! I’ve seen Saint Francis! It’s him, I’m sure! Yet it’s not possible! He’s been dead for hundreds of years.’ Papaji consoled her by saying that she had jumped into another state of consciousness where the saints of the past live. He explained,  often how he had visions of Krishna and other saints. 

In the year 1971, a few disciples of Papaji invited him to give Satsang in several European countries. It was the first time that he was traveling outside India. After a visit to Germany, Papaji and Ganga Meera went to Belgium. They then traveled to Switzerland and Italy, the place of Saint Francis and Saint Claire. They wandered around the town. Papaji recognised each stone and path and had a very strong mystical experience. In a vision, he saw that he had been Saint Francis and Ganga Meera had been Saint Claire and that they had taken birth again in order to love each other carnally. A great sacred joy overtook them and both returned back to the hotel they laughed about the situation. That day Meera conceived.

They continued to travel to Austria, Germany, and finally Spain. Papaji’s Visa was expiring so he had to return back to India. The day before his departure Ganga Meera was troubled and she asked Papaji: ‘I think I’m pregnant! Should we keep the baby?’ ‘Oh! Little Meera‘ said Papaji, and she knew she had to keep it.

Ganga Meera returned back to Belgium and applied for a visa for India. It didn’t arrive in time, so a baby girl was born in Brussels on the 29th of August 1972. Meera named her Ramani after Ramana Maharishi. When the baby was one month old, they flew to India. Papaji was waiting for them at Delhi Airport and as he took the baby in his arms he named her Mukti, meaning Liberation.

Papaji loved the time spent with Ganga Meera and expressed that it was ‘the golden years of his life.’ They had a marvelous relationship, full of harmony, respect, and joy – peaceful, with no fight or tensions. Meera had unconditional love for her Master to whom she was totally devoted. Papaji adored her as a  beautiful woman and the disciple burning in the fire for Freedom. He was sometimes very romantic and would write beautiful love letters. Nearing the end  of his life, Papaji would tell her: ‘The entire world came to me, but I came to you. Never forget it! When you are not here, to whom can I really speak?’ The passion for Truth and karma had united them.

It was the 6th of September 1997 – Papaji’s Mahasamadhi.  This event was huge and devastating for Ganga Meera. She knew that she could never surrender to a Master again. The extreme urgency of this situation gave her the fire for freedom. In the same month, two earthquakes destroyed the Papal Basilica of Saint Francis of Assisi. During a period in a year after his death, Papaji visited Mukti every night. The dreams were so alive and full of love and teaching. That helped her wash away her wound of not being able to ever see her father Papaji again.

Soon after Papaji’s Samadhi, Ganga Meera was invited to give Satsang by disciples of  Lucknow sangha. Also still today many of them regularly come to her Satsang. In the following years, she was invited to many different countries around the world. Papaji did foretell earlier that he would give her his Lucknow family. Meera is fondly called Gangaji, conducts many retreats and Satsang following Papaji’s teachings.