Didi Manmohini

I was born into a respected and wealthy family and married into another. My home had every comfort, and we gave generously in charity. Yet, deep within, I remained unhappy. My heart was searching for a happiness that wealth could never provide.

I deeply loved the Gita and the stories of the gopis in the Bhagavat. I read them every day and often wept in remembrance of Krishna. My own name was Gopi, and I wondered—how did those gopis finally meet their beloved Krishna?

Many people worshipped only to be seen, but Baba’s devotion was true and deep. His kindness, generosity and large-hearted nature quietly touched me. Though I had met him many times through family relations, my heart gradually began to feel drawn towards him.

One day, after meeting Baba, my mother sent her car to bring me to him. Baba was sitting in a small room with the Gita in his hands. I had seen him before, but that day, an unusual attraction pulled my heart towards him.

I sat before Baba, and our eyes met. Suddenly, with my physical eyes, I saw a spinning discus of light on his forehead. Baba was speaking, but I heard very little. When he chanted “Om,” I became completely lost in its love.

After the satsang, Baba asked whether I had understood anything. I said, “Baba, I have one question. Can a woman have a guru?” He gently replied, “I never asked you to accept a guru.” His simple answer removed the hesitation within me.

The next day, Baba drew the subtle regions, this physical world and the land of the brahm element on a sheet of paper. As I listened, a firm faith arose within me—I was that same gopi described in the Bhagavat.

When Baba moved to Karachi, I too left Hyderabad and joined the spiritual family. Prem Niwas became a refuge for many women facing opposition. We learnt sewing, attended classes and lived together. My search had become faith, surrender and a life of service.