My first brush with Mohanji

By Vesna Misic, Serbia

My beloved ones, this post will be different from the previous ones. Today, I will tell you how I met Mohanji. It was in 2016, in my hometown, Pozarevac (a small town in Serbia). About a year before that, I heard about Mohanji, clicked on his name on the internet without feeling anything special, and that was it. I did not investigate more deeply about who that man was, even after the decision to go to a satsang. I guess it was because I had to be completely unprepared, empty, with no ideas and expectations of him. The very me of that very moment.

mohanji hand

And what was I like at that moment? A 48-year-old woman who had only two things on her mind: one – to raise her child, and two – to raise herself in a spiritual sense. I felt that I did not need a God or a Guru, so I searched on my own with the help of books, workshops and lectures on spiritual topics. At first, God did not agree with that because he ‘had’ me working in a church store. The priest was my school friend and it was the only place where I could earn money as a single mother with a small child who often got ill.

Working in the church, I established a relationship with Jesus in my forties. I consider it one of the most important events in my life. It was completely transformative. However, as a woman from the ‘western world’ and not at all traditional, I was often in situations that caused me resentment, especially because I was directly subordinated to the priest, so I used to say: “For God’s sake, is he a priest, or a pasha?” (Pasha – a government official during the Ottoman Empire. In the Serbian language – by the way, the Serbs were under the Turks for five hundred years – it is a synonym for a man who is powerful, arrogant and authoritative).

If I had researched who Mohanji was, I might have realized that he is a character and a soul I had seen in my regression therapy three years earlier (a fascinating experience, but it didn’t clarify anything to me about my life so far. It just showed me that my soul had been rebellious for centuries and that it did not tolerate authority). If I had researched, the surprise wouldn’t have been complete, nor the story that interesting. I love interesting stories (and our Guru likes to fulfill the wishes of his disciples). If I had researched, I would have found out that Mohanji is the Guru who finds us. Honestly, I did not come to the satsang with Mohanji because of Mohanji. I came, firstly because I regularly followed the events from that area, secondly because I didn’t want to miss an event like this one in my town and, thirdly I expected to meet my ex-lover (in a workshop before this one, I did the technique of untying from him while he was sitting a few rows away from me, but I was not ready to talk to him. I was feeling strong and stable enough to put an end to that story now, with love and peace).

I arrive at the satsang with my sister and the story immediately begins. Perfect setting, fine development of the event activities, gradual introduction of characters, fascinating details! My ex is not here, which is unbelievable, because he would not miss an event like this. But my sister’s and my mutual friend is here and she almost indecently insists that we sit in the third row (my sister and I always sit in the back). There is a huge man who is sitting in front of me and I think that I will not be able to see anything, but, all of a sudden, he moves his body to the side; not the chair, but his body (he was sitting like that the whole time, unnaturally bent to the left). So I have an overview like I’m sitting in the first row. Directly in front of me is an armchair, upholstered in white canvas, placed on a raised podium. Next to it is a table with flowers. I immediately conclude: this is excessive, pompous. Some young women are hovering, checking the podium and the armchair, handing us some cards, with blissful smiles on their faces. I’m looking at the card… Eyes… I don’t feel anything special. In fact, my friend and I are talking as if we are possessed (I don’t have a habit of talking a lot before a workshop. On the contrary! I try to calm down and concentrate).

devi and Mohanji



Devi and Mohanji are coming in. Mohanji steps on the podium and sits in an armchair, wearing a white dress, as if it was a cassock, only white. His snow-white socks catch my eye. “Who keeps his socks so perfectly white?” I wonder in awe, and almost in fear, because I wouldn’t be able to do that if I was to do it for my priest. Devi is standing next to the podium and talks about him and his mission. Devi is standing on the same level as we are and Mohanji is sitting in an upholstered armchair on a raised podium, with his hands on the arms of the chair, somehow he is all spread out, self-satisfied and self-sufficient. He is looking around the hall, scanning us. Those young women are sitting in front of him on the floor, with their legs crossed, looking at him in fascination. I like Devi (except for her huge devotion to her husband); I don’t like Mohanji. What the hell is this? Is he a Guru or a Pasha? (Please forgive me for these words and keep in mind that I do not want to disturb anyone! Quite the opposite! I am just honestly talking about how I experienced it then).

white socks

As Devi is talking about Mohanji’s mission, Mohanji enters into meditation. People are still restless, especially my friend and I, which is really not typical for me, and I wonder why because I follow all the instructions at events of this kind as a hard-working student (well, at that moment I didn’t know that I had never been to a similar event before). I finally manage to calm down and close my eyes. I immediately felt sadness. At first lightly, then stronger as if it took a while to settle itself down. It was climbing up on a scale, and soon enough, it found its right strength and stayed there. I was confused. It was not clear to me what was happening. Why sadness? Well, I often felt that in my meditations, but this sadness was different from all the previous ones. Sadness like: “But, man, where have you been all this time? How could you let yourself be gone for so long? Do you know how terrible it was here without you?” That sadness was quite strong, but somehow timeless, static, all-encompassing, as the very core of the notion of sadness. I started to cry. I felt that he was trying to calm me down as if he was telling me that everything was fine, that it was beautiful we finally met, that I should be happy, but I kept repeating: “Where have you been for so long?”

At moments, rather short ones like flashes, I felt the kind of love I had never felt before. The rest of the time it was like pulling a rope between him and me, a little tug of war in which he fought showing love and I showing sadness. I could feel a strong rush of unconditional love and his smile towards me, and my stubborn, persistent, definite: “But I am very sad.” Then, an even stronger rush of love and a smile that stops at my wall of pain. After four, five bursts that were strong and long, I began to be overwhelmed by incredible love. Then, slowly and carefully, in order not to offend the sadness, love overtook the place of sadness. It was a strange love, never experienced before, all-encompassing, joyful, and bright.


When I opened my eyes, I was greeted by his wide smile, as if he was smiling at me. With that smile, he said something like: “Don’t be so sad. Up there, we’re together all the time.” At the end of the program, Mohanji gave Shaktipat. I didn’t know what it was. I stood in front of him, with his thumb on my third eye, and absorbed his energy, feeling the wonderful vibrations, over and over again, as long as there was room in me for them. And, you will surely agree with this, since then, Mohanji has been with me every day. He is my greatest and wisest friend. I can trust him completely, because not only is he pure love, but he is also free from the influence of emotions and patterns when he gives me advice and instructions on what is good and should be done. He is my mirror. Every time I get angry, I say to my teenage daughter: “Stop fighting me. Just listen to me and do it. Just do it”, then I hear him say to me, only without anger, calmly: “I tell you the same thing.”

How would I evaluate, describe my spiritual path four years later? I am at the age of a spiritually rebellious teenager. It just seems I was stuck in that part of the road for many lives. It is high time I grew up!

Much love.

Mohanji in white



Edited & Published by – Testimonials Team, 30th July 2020


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3 thoughts on “My first brush with Mohanji”

  1. Pingback: Oneness of Masters – Experiences With Mohanji

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