What is Meditation

Meditation Techniques

Spiritual Inspirators








Faqir Baba

Manav Dayal

Nirmala Pandit

Pandit Dayal

Bassi Gulam


Bhargat Singh

Lakbir Singh



Lal Chand

Lahori Pandiji

Ramesh Giri

Asha Thakur

Shabdanand - The Noblest Soul           

Meditation is kindness—not the superficial kind that originates from the thinking mind, but a profound kindness so deep that it triggers a process of dissolving. The guards you didn’t even know were protecting you, stationed in an automated state of high alert, lay down their weapons of unconscious suspicion. And you begin to melt. The blockages of icy resistance cannot withstand the warmth emanating from the soft words of a gentle and kind-hearted noble man like Shabdanand.

Shabdanand embodies a kind of kindness I have never encountered before. His unusual kindness is rooted in an ever-present attentiveness when he listens. Within just ten minutes, you'll feel that you are very special, yet at the same time, you may experience a sense of disappearing.

His voice is like a soft, soothing melody, and this voice, full of empathic compassion, saved the life of a friend of mine. While I was in India in 1995, one of my friends back in Denmark was going through very painful private events. It was so hard on him that he contemplated suicide. I talked with him several times by phone from India, trying to dissuade him from his decision, but with no success. When Shabdanand heard about this, he insisted on talking to my friend by phone. We went out to the telephone booth outside the Be Man Temple. My friend did not know Shabdanand, but that did not matter. After an hour of conversation, my friend was completely free from any suicidal thoughts. In fact, he was entirely happy again and full of optimistic thoughts on how to move forward in life.
Such was the power of Shabdanand's attentive kindness.
It was goodness and happiness—not from the strategic mind, but emanating from beyond the very cells of his being. The Indians call it Sat Chit Ananda. 'Ananda' means bliss. 'Shabd' refers to the word or sound beyond the physical. In this sense, Shabdanand was truly Shabd Ananda.

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Shabdanand is one of the most truly humble and beautiful human beings I have ever met. At the age of 79 (in '96), he was running up the staircase like a young man, leaving me breathless in my efforts to keep up with him. He has truly taken the seven steps to heaven, yet he will still take the time to drink a cup of chai and share a smile with you at the bottom of the ladder.

Such taste in that cup of chai!

Shabdanand's Mother was a great Saint. And he grew up and lived under the guidance of her spiritual lineage beginning with the mother's guru Data Dayal.

Two brothers in spirit - Shabdanand with Lahori Pandiji

I often asked Shabdanand to share stories from his life. Nothing was better than listening to him as we sat on plastic chairs in the ashram courtyard at sunset. One day, he recounted a story about his mother, whom the Indians refer to as a household saint. Despite her demanding daily routine as a married, devout Indian woman, she replaced sleep with deep meditation on her beloved master’s form, continuing this practice until her death in her late nineties.

The Heart Knows
One morning, when Shabdanand was still a boy, his mother emerged disturbed from her meditation room, revealing that she had seen her master, Data Dayal, suffering from a severe infection in his leg during her meditation. She immediately prepared for a 300km train journey to visit Data Dayal, taking Shabdanand with her. They arrived late at night at Data Dayal’s ashram, where, unusually, Data Dayal was still awake. Shabdanand's mother, an expert in medicinal herbs within the Ayurvedic system, had brought a basket filled with various healing herbs. After prostrating before her guru, she declared, 'You have three infectious boils on your right leg, Maharaji! Allow me to treat you!' Data Dayal willingly surrendered to his devoted disciple’s capable hands and showed her his leg, which indeed had exactly three large boils.

After curing Data Dayal, she returned home where she could once again meditate in peace. Curious about her remarkable knowledge that transcended physical distance, I asked Shabdanand how his mother could have known about Data Dayal’s condition. He replied, 'A loving heart always knows. The secret of telepathy and clairvoyance lies in the loving heart.' Intrigued, I then asked what happens when one person loves another without reciprocation. 'Then only the loving heart will know, not the other' he said with a smile.

Here is a video recording of my very first meeting with Shabdanand:

First meeting in 1995


East is East and West is West

Spiritual Teachings of Faqir Baba I

Spiritual Teachings of Faqir Baba II


Meditation is living every moment as poetry. However, this poetic state can quickly dry up, like the skin on old hands. Once, Shabdanand Ji shared with me:

'Data Dayal told Baba Faqir Chand that his own teachings were outdated. They could no longer transmit the truth as times had changed. Because of this, he instructed Faqir to adapt the teachings to modern times and to his own experiences.'

What a wonderful statement! Unspoken truth is timeless. But as soon as you articulate it, your statements are bound to age with time. The greatness of this lineage lay in its ability to recognize the time-bound weaknesses of teachings as soon as they manifested in time and form.

The Crossing
Shabdanand once shared a personal story that illustrated the unfaltering honesty of Faqir Baba. As a young man, Shabdanand was attempting to cross a delta of dry river beds at the foothills of the Himalayas. Suddenly, immense water masses from a heavy shower several kilometers away in the mountains rushed into the river beds, sweeping him off his feet. In terror and fear, he cried out Faqir Baba's name: 'Help me! Guruji save me!!' Then, miraculously, Faqir Baba appeared in the water beside him and dragged Shabdanand to safety.

A month later, Shabdanand visited Faqir Baba's ashram to personally thank him for saving his life. Faqir Baba received Shabdanand with great love and affection and listened attentively to his story. His reply was profound: 'Dear friend, I was not there at the river. I did not save you. I know nothing about this incident. In fact, what saved you was your own power, created by your strong belief in me.'

This was how honesty taked with the voice of Baba Faqir.

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How fortunate we are to know that at least a handful of good and super honest human beings were and are here with us on this planet. And I can assure you, dear reader, their happiness is as contagious as the flu during an Indian monsoon. This is, and was, at least my own experience in the company of these wonderful people.


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Sharing the moment with a kindred soul,
Captn. Lal Chand

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Who is moving this hand?   -   What is in it?

Let me end this ode to the most wonderful Mr. Wonderful with a little episode I experienced with him. We were invited to a family home in Faridabad, but it turned out that the house was already full of VIP visitors. Moreover, it was unbearably hot, as it was the end of May just before the rainy season. Hence, Shabdanand and I decided to sleep under the open sky on the roof of the house. However, after some time, a swarm of the most nasty mosquitoes found us. I cannot recall ever being so stung as I was that night.

Shabdanand then said with a sigh and a smile: 'Dear Gunnar! It is God who sent these mosquitoes to us to remind us that this earthly life is not our real home'.

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Hoshiarpur train Station
No goodbyes, no hellos.