by Sajith Menon, Dubai
How does one explain the unexplainable?
How does one weave words around the ineffable,
that which is felt not with the mind,
but with the very essence of existence?
I remember the day my soul first trembled in recognition.
It was June 20th last year—the day of my first Mai-Tri session.
Like a river discovering its path to the ocean, energy surged through me,
a silent symphony moving through the chambers of my being.
It was as if unseen hands were sculpting me anew.
Even after the session ended, the waves did not subside.
They rose and fell, whispering in the corridors of my heart,
where something ancient stirred from its slumber.
From that moment, I was never alone.
And then came the night of August 16th.
It was late—10:45 PM—when I sat with Miraculous Days with Mohanji in my hands,
unaware that I was about to step into the unknown.
As I turned the pages, a weight descended upon me—
a force, heavy yet sacred, pressing upon my third eye.
The intensity grew, like the gathering of a storm,
until my vision blurred and my breath staggered.
My eyes—helpless, surrendered—closed of their own accord.
Darkness folded around me, thick and electric.
I lost all sense of time.
My breath faltered.
And then—
A force beyond me tilted my gaze upwards,
my eyes locked onto the unseen.
I do not know how long I remained in that state,
suspended in a place without borders.
What I do know is that when I returned,
the energy had not left.
It coursed through me until 2:30 AM,
like the lingering touch of an unseen hand.
During this time, I was not alone.
My wife had heard me—
the sounds my body had begun to make,
as if language was slipping through my lips unbidden.
She came to me, calling my name,
but I could not respond.
I could only gesture—I am fine.
Later, she told me of a voice she heard that night.
Not my voice, but another.
“Do not worry. He is fine. He is with me.”
Who was this voice that spoke to her in the stillness?
She did not know then.
But now, she does.
At 2:30 AM, I finally stood up,
walked to the mirror,
and what I saw took my breath away—
rashes, burnt markings below my eyes,
across my forehead,
as if my very skin had been touched by an invisible flame.
Yet, there was no fear.
No confusion.
Only awe.
Only reverence.
“Mohanji is very powerful,” was all I could whisper to my wife.
The marks remained for four or five days,
a quiet reminder of something too vast to name.
But it did not end there.
Another book called out to me—Power of Purity.
Each time my eyes met Mohanji’s image on its cover,
a current ran through me, unbidden, electric.
A wordless conversation.
A silent transmission.
Even now, it continues.
And then, there was the meditation.
A stillness that was not still.
A silence that hummed with the pulse of the universe.
As I surrendered to the Power of Purity meditation,
the energy would rise,
filling me, moving me,
until my mouth—without my will—would open,
as if some great force sought to breathe through me.
My body trembled,
not in fear, but in recognition.
How does one explain such things?
How does one translate the language of the unseen?
Then came my first meeting with Mohanji.
Mohanji arrived in Dubai on October 20th 2024.
The moment he entered the hall,
I felt it—the wave, the pull,
the familiar stirring of energy within me.
And when he touched my third eye, a storm was unleashed.
Vibrations erupted in every cell of my being,
my body trembling, energy pouring through me like a great tide.
I was held—by grace, by something beyond human hands.
And yet, human hands were there—
Danny behind me, steadying me,
unaware that I had been steady all along,
held by something invisible,
something eternal.
And then, as if the universe wished to offer me
one more whisper of certainty,
I stood before Mohanji with my wife during the book signing.
I looked into his eyes and asked,
“Will you always be with us?”
His answer was not just words but a promise,
a truth as ancient as the stars.
“Yes, for sure, I will always be with you.”
His voice carried the weight of the infinite,
and in my mother tongue, he sealed it:
“Undakum, eppolum oppam undakum.”
That night, as the program drew to a close,
Milica approached my wife and me.
“Deviji wishes to see you.”
A blessing for couples, she said.
And so we went, and so we waited
until it was our turn to receive what was meant for us.
Even now, the energy moves within me.
Even now, I chant the Mohanji Gayatri Mantra,
not as a ritual, but as a calling,
a bridge to his divine presence.
Each day, I sit with the Power of Purity meditation,
not as an act, but as a return—
a return to that river, that current,
that endless, boundless love.
For I know now—
I was never alone.
I have never been alone.
And I never will be.
Aum Parabrahmane Vidmahe
Shiva Tattwaya Deemahi
Thanno Mohana Prachodayat
|| JAI BRAHMARISHI MOHANJI ||
Edited & Published by – Testimonials Team, 4th May 2025
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