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Manav Dayal


A facebookpage
made in the remembrance
of Manav Dayal






Faqir Baba

Manav Dayal

Nirmala Pandit

Pandit Dayal

Bassi Gulam


Bhargat Singh

Lakbir Singh



Lal Chand

Lahori Pandiji

Ramesh Giri

Asha Thakur

Manav Dayal - Saint & Philosopher

Manav2.jpg (7914 bytes)















Spirituality is not always a display of a sound spirit in a sound body.

Manav Dayal was in his mid-eighties and was suffering from severe diabetes.
He was lying on a bed, looking weak, so his first words to me seemed to come from somewhere else:

'I knew you would come today. I have been awaiting you. Come to my place. Stay with me. Eat with me. Sleep in the same room as me. And you will become like me.'

Needless to say, his words were indeed surprising to my Western ears. At the same time, I knew that these words were not meant personally for me alone; they could just as well have been spoken to you, dear reader, if you had the good fortune to be at this place at this time. Then again came his fragile voice, reciting spontaneously flowing poems in streams of consciousness. Devotees entered the room with food, prasad. They offered it to him with tremendous reverence. He ate lots of it with strange pleasure, while his voice continued this wonderful song of words. But now these fragile melodies were rhythmically mixed with loud burps coming from his stomach. Yet now, in this intoxicated state I find myself in, I cannot tell the difference between a burp and God's voice.

I have to continue the story about Manav Dayal. I went to his ashram in Hoshiarpur, and at that time, I met so many beautiful beings! It could no longer just be a lucky projection of my own beauty: Shabdanand, Lahori Pandiji, Sita, Captain Lal Chand, and many others were just passing by.

The talking Picture
A devotee from Hyderabad, Suresh Babu, arrived in the ashram. He was in his thirties, a successful family father and businessman. He was also a passionate wildlife protector and photographer. He shared many wonderful stories with me. In his childhood home, there was a painting of Faqir Baba.

When he, as a child, passed by the painting, it often came alive, and Baba Faqir spoke to him through it. For the young Suresh, this was neither strange nor magical. It felt so natural that he never even mentioned it to his parents. He also sometimes sought help from the picture, and Baba Faqir never failed to provide useful advice. Suresh mentioned that Faqir in the picture even sometimes told him fairy tales. However, when he reached puberty, the painting suddenly stopped coming to life, and no matter how hard he tried to revive his old mentor and friend, nothing happened.

After the painting stopped coming to life, Suresh developed a burning desire to travel to Hoshiarpur to meet the successor of Faqir Baba, Manav Dayal. Some years later, his desire was fulfilled, and Manav Dayal became his guru in physical form.

The Ugly Master
Manav Dayal Suresh now told told me, 'I was— as you are now—staying together with Manav Dayal in his private room. One night he came out of the bathroom, coughing and with almost no clothes on. My first thought was: My dear GOD... is this my Guru? Is my Guru that ugly? I cannot even look at this sight. Why is he so old? Why can I not have a young, beautiful Master? Full of doubt and sadness, I went to sleep. In the middle of the night, I was awakened by something pulling my arm. I looked up and saw a divine being of light so radiant that I could not contain the beauty. It was such an intense beauty that it felt like pain. I cried in terror:

'Oh Shiva! Go away!! I cannot look at you. Such extreme beauty is not for a human to absorb.'

The being smiled teasingly and asked, 'Do you find me beautiful now? Am I beautiful enough for you?' 'Yes, yes,' I cried, 'You are too beautiful!'

The next morning, Manav Dayal's first question to me was: 'Do you find me beautiful?' 'Guru Ji!' I replied, 'You are too beautiful!' And I fell at his feet in gratitude...
Give me all your money!
Shortly after arriving at Manav Dayal’s Ashram, there was a large gathering with several thousand people coming to celebrate him. This occasion is called Guru Purnima. All over India, people travel to visit their Guru to pay him respect with flowers and love. The place was really crowded. Manav Dayal called me over and said:

'Give me all your money!'
What was this?! Had I ended up once again in a spiritual commercial trap? Despite all the doubt, I gave him my money belt. He took out all the foreign money: dollars and traveler's checks. And, to my terror, he also took out my passport. Then he handed back the money belt—now containing only a few hundred Indian rupees.

'Trust me,' he said with a smile.

One hour later, as I was walking around in the Guru Purnima crowd, my money belt was stolen.

Then Shabdanand came: 'Manav Dayal calls you.' And yes... I had to laugh... With a mischievous smile, Manav returned my passport and money."

I put it all in my pocket and disappeared into the crowd of celebration.    

This was the last money ever between me and Manav.

Manav Dayal/I.C. Sharma lived until recently with his devotees in a peaceful Ashram in Punjab. 

I stayed with him for five month. He never asked me to do anything for him. He just gave - gave bliss - gave food - gave shelter.
He has now left his body.

Manav Dayal was a Professor of Philosophy in the United States before he in 1981 was appointed as head of the Manavta Mandir Mission by Faqir Baba.

Both Manav Dayal and Faqir Baba had close contact to the American mystic Edgar Cayce. Manav Dayal has among many books written: Cayce, Karma and Reincarnation. (Look at amazon.com)

Here he makes a kind of New Age synthesis of Cayce Western approach and the Eastern tradition of Radha Soami.


Satsang 1995


My first Meeting with Manav Dayal 1995


The Curse of being a Guru
In Hoshiarpur, I had the wonderful fortune to live in Be Man Temple, a holy place full of saintly beings. In the picture above, you see Shabdanand on the rare occasion of him performing a satsang. Like most of the holy beings here, Shabdanand was not worshipped as a guru. He assumed the role of a guru much later in life.
I couldn't help but wonder... all the non-worshipped holy men and women here were in perfect health, some even reaching the age of 100, unlike Lahori Pandiji. In contrast, Manav Dayal's health was in decline. I had observed the same phenomenon at many other reputable ashrams in India: the masters were often sick while the devotees were super healthy. Could it be that being at the center of waves of worship was, in fact, a kind of crucifixion? People offer their devotion, but in reality, they continuously come with their projections and expectations, day and night.

35 years later, after encountering gurus of all kinds, I have come to the conclusion that being a spiritual leader often comes with a hefty price, especially for those gurus who charge money for their services. These gurus often start with the best intentions but slowly become victims of their own fame. They begin to believe in the stories projected onto them by those around them and, in the process, become disincarnated from their own true being.

Let me state that Manav Dayal was certainly not a money guru, but I observed from the front row how he was constantly bombarded with people wanting something from him, day and night.