Shri Advocate Parulekar

Shri Advocate Dinkar Mukund Parulekar

A Seeker, Devotee, and Documentarian of Bhagavan Nityananda’s Grace

Shri Dinkar Mukund Parulekar, a practising Advocate at the High Court in Bombay, was not only an accomplished legal professional but also a deep and dedicated spiritual aspirant. Known for his refined intellect and sincere devotion, Shri Parulekar occupies a special place among the early chroniclers of Bhagavan Nityananda’s divine life. He was among the first to compile and document the mystical experiences, teachings, and transformative Leelas of Bhagavan’s devotees into a written form. His literary devotion culminated in the heartfelt offering of the book ‘Tujha Visara Na Vavha’ (translated as May I Never Forget You or Lest I Forget You) in March 1961.

The book, a labour of love and reverence, was personally placed at the Lotus Feet of Bhagavan Nityananda—an act symbolic of total surrender and divine offering. A rare and significant moment in spiritual history was captured by the eminent photographer Shri M. D. Suvarna: Bhagavan Nityananda Himself holding this sacred book, acknowledging the bhakti and effort of Shri Parulekar. This picture continues to serve as a silent testimony of the blessed interaction between the devotee and the Divine.

Shri Parulekar’s relationship with Bhagavan was not simply that of reverence from afar—he was a sincere seeker who undertook an exhaustive study of Baba’s Leela, the mystic experiences of His devotees, and the subtle layers of His teachings. Through conversations, observations, and lived experiences, he compiled these into a work that has inspired many devotees on the path of Guru Krupa Yoga.

Our family had the privilege of knowing Shri Parulekar personally. He was a close friend and would often visit us. During these visits, he and my family would exchange heartfelt discussions and reflections on their experiences of Bhagavan’s grace. These conversations, charged with devotion, inquiry, and awe, formed an intimate spiritual circle of remembrance and gratitude to the Sadguru.

The Search for a Sadguru

Shri Parulekar’s spiritual journey was earnest and introspective. He was not only educated but also contemplative, a man of refined sensibility who merged intellectual discipline with a longing for the Divine. Around 1948–49, just after appearing for his final examination in Law from Bombay University, he found himself at a pivotal crossroads. He was on the threshold of beginning his professional career as a lawyer—a moment of significant personal transformation.

At this juncture, a deep inner call stirred within him: before stepping into the world of law and responsibility, he felt an intense urge to seek the blessings and guidance of a true Guru—a Sadguru who could offer not just worldly advice but spiritual anchorage. Coming from a devout family that worshipped Lord Vittal of Pandharpur as their Aradhya Devata (Chosen Deity), his upbringing was steeped in traditional devotion and religious discipline. However, his heart longed for a more direct and transformative spiritual experience—something that could take him beyond rituals and immerse him in the mystery of Divine Presence.

This was also a time when India had freshly emerged from the yoke of colonialism and was undergoing a cultural, social, and spiritual reawakening. Many young seekers of that era—educated yet spiritually thirsty—were exploring paths of inner discovery. Shri Parulekar, too, was among those inwardly inspired by this wave of transformation. His quest eventually led him to the divine presence of Bhagavan Nityananda—a presence that needed no words, no explanations, only inner readiness.

Bhagavan Nityananda’s silent transmission, unconditional love, and mysterious ways answered Shri Parulekar’s innermost yearning. From that point onward, his life became a living sadhana—a quiet expression of bhakti through thought, word, and deed. His writing, especially Tujha Visara Na Vavha, is not just a record of Baba’s leelas but a map of a seeker’s journey from search to surrender, from doubt to devotion.

The Inner Dilemma and the Outer Quest

Despite his academic accomplishments and promising future in the field of law, young Dinkar Mukund Parulekar, like many earnest youth of his generation, found himself grappling with the uncertainties and deeper questions of life. The years following India’s independence were a time of profound societal transformation, where the youth were inspired by new national aspirations, yet often faced inner turmoil in trying to balance tradition with modernity, worldly ambition with spiritual yearning.

For Shri Parulekar, the challenge was not merely external. He was determined to excel in his chosen profession—to practice law with competence, integrity, and compassion. He sincerely wanted to offer the best of his abilities in service to society. But at the same time, a quiet anxiety stirred within him. How could one remain steady amidst the ever-changing waves of life? How could one live nobly in a world riddled with uncertainty, ambition, and moral compromise?

He approached his parents and elders, wise and devout individuals who had long navigated the complexities of worldly life through the lens of Dharma. In their eyes, the answer was simple, yet profound: To live a noble life, one must seek the guidance and blessings of a true Sadguru. They explained that a Sadguru—unlike a mere teacher or preacher—is one who awakens the soul, dispels confusion, and leads the seeker not only toward worldly clarity but also toward spiritual illumination.

This advice struck a chord. Thus began Shri Parulekar’s earnest search for a Sadguru.

The Confusion of the Seeker

However, finding a Sadguru in a society teeming with spiritual figures was no easy task. Post-independence India was a land where numerous saints, swamis, and gurus had gathered spiritual followings. For a sincere seeker like Shri Parulekar, this abundance became a source of confusion. He met many such figures, sat in their presence, listened to their discourses, and tried to open his heart. Yet, something was missing. Despite their eloquence and presence, none of them evoked in him that unmistakable inner connection—a quiet certainty that this is the one.

He asked trusted friends and well-wishers for guidance, yet found no satisfying direction. The longing in his heart grew deeper, but so did the uncertainty. It was a difficult phase—one where hope and doubt walked hand-in-hand.

The Turning Point: A Whisper of Ganeshpuri

One day, someone mentioned to him—perhaps casually, perhaps as divine intervention—that there lived a great sage in a remote village called Ganeshpuri. This sage, they said, was unlike the rest. He did not preach, nor did he claim titles or seek followers. He often sat in silence. His glance alone was said to be transformative. Those who came to him returned with eyes moist and hearts awakened. Many regarded him not merely as a saint but as a direct emissary of the Divine—sent for the upliftment of souls drowning in the delusion of worldly suffering.

Something stirred within Shri Parulekar. The name Ganeshpuri—until then unknown to him—began to resound like a silent mantra in his mind. He could not ignore the call. One day, without much deliberation, the young Parulekar boarded a train and journeyed toward this obscure village nestled amidst the hot springs and thick vegetation of Maharashtra.

The Meeting with the Master

When he arrived, he was led to a simple ashram, where the sage—Bhagavan Nityananda—resided. There was no grand stage, no pomp or proclamation. Just a radiant presence seated in profound stillness. The moment Shri Parulekar saw Bhagavan Nityananda, a powerful calm descended upon him. There was no need for words, no explanations. The deep inner search that had taken him across cities and through the doors of many teachers came to a quiet, unmistakable halt. He knew—this was the One. The Sadguru he had longed for stood before him in absolute stillness, yet brimming with boundless grace.

It was said that Bhagavan Nityananda had descended for the upliftment of all beings—that He was not merely a realized soul, but an embodiment of Supreme Consciousness itself, guiding seekers with the light of Jnana (knowledge), Dharmic living, and unshakable inner peace. For Shri Parulekar, that moment of Darshan marked the end of confusion and the beginning of a lifelong relationship of surrender, service, and remembrance.

If you’d like, I can continue from this point onward to describe how this meeting influenced his later writing of Tujha Visara Na Vavha, or how his legal career became a platform for Dharmic service guided by Bhagavan’s unseen hand.

The First Encounter: Fire at the Threshold

Driven by a growing inner compulsion that defied logic, Shri Parulekar felt an irresistible urge to visit Ganeshpuri—a name that had suddenly become luminous in his inner world. He had heard whispers of a great sage, Bhagavan Nityananda, whose silence spoke volumes and whose presence transformed lives. Acting on faith alone, he set out on this journey, unaware that it would mark the beginning of a lifelong spiritual metamorphosis.

The journey to Ganeshpuri in those days was far from easy. There were no paved roads, no modern conveniences. The land was largely wild, untamed, and unwelcoming to the unprepared traveller. After a long, exhausting ride and soaked in sweat under the unforgiving midday sun, he finally arrived at Ganeshpuri. But what he found took him by surprise.

This “Ganeshpuri” was no spiritual township. It was a remote jungle, isolated from the rhythms of the world. There were no signs of hospitality—no resting places, no ashram gates, no welcome archways. Instead, there was wilderness: tall grasses growing four to five feet high, thorny shrubs clawing at passersby, jagged boulders, and pothole-ridden paths. The air hung heavy with heat and silence.

He asked whoever he came across, “Where does Swami Nityananda reside?” Most villagers simply gestured vaguely, unable to give clear directions. Shri Parulekar was puzzled—how could a saint spoken of so highly, one whose greatness had been extolled to him by many, live in such obscurity without even a proper ashram?

Just when frustration was beginning to take hold, he met a group of South Indian laborers. In a mix of broken Hindi and Tulu, they offered a clue:
“See that dome? Shiva Mandir. Nearby, there’s a Kund. Close to it is Vaikuntha Ashram—Swami stays there.”

The moment he heard these words, something within him stirred. The stillness broke into motion. His pulse quickened. There was a flutter of anticipation in his chest. Could this be the place? The long-awaited moment of meeting his Sadguru suddenly felt imminent. He began walking toward the Shiva temple, eyes scanning for signs of the mysterious Swami.

What he found was a modest structure—Vaikuntha Ashram. It was not an imposing temple nor a palatial hermitage. It was a simple hall with a few dark rooms attached. The windows, if any, were shuttered or absent. Light barely entered. The place felt more like a cavern than a dwelling. With cautious steps and beating heart, Shri Parulekar entered the dim hall, unsure of what—or whom—he might find.

The Test of Fire

As he stepped deeper into the hall, adjusting his eyes to the gloom, he suddenly froze. Out of the darkness emerged a tall, bare-bodied man, clad in nothing but a white loincloth, holding a long stick. His eyes blazed with an intensity that could melt steel. Before Shri Parulekar could gather his thoughts, the man let out a thunderous roar:

“Go away! Why have you come here? There is nothing for you here!”

The voice was primal, furious, and unmistakably commanding. The figure began pacing the hall aggressively, striking the floor with his stick, as though warding off an unwanted presence. The air crackled with a fierce energy.

Shri Parulekar stood stunned. His body trembled, and a chill ran down his spine. Was this truly the saint he had come so far to see? Could this be the Sadguru he had so longed for? This wasn’t the serene welcome he had imagined. This was a storm—raw, unfiltered, and terrifying.

Thoughts flooded his mind.
“What kind of saint is this? I have come from afar, not seeking wealth or fame, but wisdom. Can he not see that I am sincere? Is this how a saint treats a seeker?”

But beneath the agitation, a deeper voice—calm, steady—arose within him. A quiet whisper that said, “Stay.”

Despite the terror, he felt rooted. Though his legs begged him to flee, his soul commanded him to remain. Without uttering another word, Shri Parulekar slowly sat down on the floor of the hall. He resolved: “I will not leave. Even if I am not accepted, even if I am ignored, I will not turn back now. I have not come this far to run away.”

He watched as the towering figure—the Swami—continued to pace. The anger did not last. After a while, the fire softened. The Swami’s movements became less stormy, more rhythmical. He began murmuring to himself, in words Shri Parulekar could not understand. He seemed to have forgotten the visitor’s presence entirely.

But something had shifted.

In that one moment of fierce rejection and inner resolve, Shri Parulekar had unknowingly passed the first test. It was the test every true seeker must face—the test of fire at the threshold of grace. The Guru had met the disciple not with affection, but with a blaze, to burn away ego, expectation, and pride. And the seeker, by surrendering without fleeing, had bowed not just to the Guru, but to his own deeper self.

What seemed like rejection was, in truth, the first embrace.

From the corner of the dimly lit hall where he had seated himself resolutely, Shri Parulekar watched the unfolding scene with a blend of trepidation and wonder. The figure pacing before him—this towering, almost primal monk—seemed untouched by the world around him. He walked with the detachment of someone completely immersed in an inner world, a being utterly disconnected from physicality or the norms of ordinary human interaction. He neither acknowledged the presence of Shri Parulekar nor appeared to be aware of anything beyond his own rhythmic pacing and sporadic utterances.

Despite the fear that had initially gripped him, Shri Parulekar found himself slowly entranced. The longer he gazed at this mysterious yogi, the more his agitation began to melt. A subtle shift occurred within him—a wave of inexplicable calm began to arise. The tumult of thoughts, doubts, and physical exhaustion from the journey seemed to dissolve into a tranquil stillness. There was something magnetic about the presence of the monk—fearless and powerful, yes, but also luminous, absorbed, and aloof in the way that only one who has gone beyond the ego can be.

Eventually, the monk slowed his pace. His footfalls, once brisk and determined, now softened. He walked to the far end of the hall and sat on the steps leading to a small, shadowed room. In the gentle hush that followed, Shri Parulekar’s gaze remained fixed on him. Then, as if breaking through an invisible veil, the monk suddenly spoke.

In broken Marathi, with a tone that carried neither welcome nor hostility, he asked,
“Kundāt snān kela ka? Vajreshwarīlā darshan ghetlās ka?”(“Have you bathed in the Kund? Did you go to Vajreshwari and have the Darshan of Vajrabai before coming here?”)

The unexpected question struck Shri Parulekar like a revelation. It became clear that, in his eagerness to meet the great saint, he had overlooked the sacred protocols of approaching a divine presence. He had come unprepared, spiritually unripe for the encounter. He rose immediately, prostrated before Baba without a word, and quietly left the Ashram to fulfil what now seemed to be a necessary inner and outer purification.

Down at the Kund, he immersed himself in the steaming mineral-rich waters, letting the warmth seep into his bones, both soothing his body and silently preparing his mind. Afterwards, he hired a tanga—an old-fashioned horse carriage—and made his way through the dusty road to Vajreshwari. There, he had Darshan of the fierce yet benevolent Goddess Vajreshwari—Vajrabai—whose presence seemed to cleanse his heart. With a sense of reverence now kindled within him, he made his way back to Ganeshpuri, his mind calmer, his purpose clarified.

Tanga

Back inside Vaikuntha Ashram, he quietly resumed his seat in the corner, more humble, more inward.

This time, Baba looked at him with a softness that hadn’t been visible before. With no trace of anger or agitation, Baba began to speak in a gentle tone:
“The water in the Kund is warm because of the Ghandhak—sulphur—deposits under the earth. It has healing properties. It cures arthritis, skin ailments. These waters are Kotiteerth—a holy pilgrimage in itself.”

As Baba spoke, Shri Parulekar felt a magnetic pull toward him. The figure before him was no longer the wild, wrathful ascetic he had encountered earlier. The transformation was profound. Sitting before him now was a being radiating peace and maternal warmth. There was love—not merely kindness, but the unconditional, formless love of a mother—shining from Baba’s eyes.

Encouraged by the shift, Shri Parulekar moved closer, silently requesting the permission to sit close to Baba. Baba allowed him to draw near without word or gesture, and as Shri Parulekar sat at his feet, he took in every detail. The powerful frame, the radiance around him, the peace that seemed to throb through the air itself—everything now appeared different, sanctified. There was no speech between them, and yet an entire world of understanding passed in that silence.

Something deep within Shri Parulekar melted in that moment—his pride, his doubt, his intellectual rigidity. He sat still, overwhelmed by the grace and the mystery of the encounter. He realised that this was no ordinary saint. This was someone who broke seekers down, only to rebuild them inwardly, from a place of truth. The fierce outer display was only the fire that purified.

And now, the cooling balm of grace had begun to flow.

As Shri Parulekar sat quietly in the presence of this majestic, mysterious saint, a silent inner warmth enveloped him. The outer storm had passed, and he now felt as if he were basking in a sacred radiance—a light not of this world. There was no doubt in his heart: this was no ordinary monk. This was a being of immense spiritual stature, a living embodiment of divine consciousness who saw far beyond the surface of appearances.

Just as he was beginning to relax into the peace of that silence, Baba turned toward him sharply. His penetrating gaze landed directly on Shri Parulekar. With a tone that mixed command with curiosity, Baba asked,
“Kuthun aalā tu? Kāy karto?”
(“Where have you come from? What do you do?”)

But even before Shri Parulekar could open his mouth to respond, Baba raised the stick that still hadn’t left His hand—almost as if it were a sceptre of divine authority—and said with firm finality,
“Ata jā. Ja, kartavya pūrṇ kar.”
(“Now leave immediately. Go do your duty.”)

The words were sharp, direct, almost dismissive. The serenity Shri Parulekar had just tasted seemed to falter. He was caught off guard, unsure whether this meant he was being sent away for good. Was this another test? Or was the Master indeed rejecting him?

With a rush of emotion—equal parts humility, fear, confusion, and yearning—Shri Parulekar rose, bent down, and placed his forehead at Baba’s feet. Trembling slightly, he spoke from the depths of his heart:
“Baba, I am about to begin my practice as an Advocate. I have come to seek your blessings and guidance as I prepare to begin my life.”

There was a pause. Time seemed to hang still.

Then Baba’s expression changed again. The severe countenance softened. The stern mask gave way to a profound gentleness that seemed to arise from an infinite reservoir of compassion. He looked at Shri Parulekar not as a teacher to a student, but as a mother might look at a child stepping out into the world for the first time.

Baba now spoke with measured gravity, his voice low but charged with meaning:
“Kartavya kara. Punyāne kama kara. Duniya chukli ahe mhanun tu chukū naye. Vyavasāyat pāvitrate thew. Satya hech shastra ahe.”
(“Do your duty. Work with merit and righteousness. Just because the world has strayed, does not mean you should stray. Maintain purity in your profession. Truth is your only weapon.”)

These were not just words. They were upadesh—a sacred instruction, not only for Shri Parulekar, but for all who would walk the path of Dharma in a world fraught with deceit and ambition.

Baba continued,
“Āpan sādhak astān jase antarmukh rahato, tasa vyavahārik jīvanāt pan rahile pahije. Sāchā mārg kadhi sodū naye. Kartavya sodū naye. Vāsanā sodūn karma kara.”
(“Just as a seeker turns inward on the spiritual path, so too must one remain inwardly anchored while living in the world. Never abandon the path of truth. Never abandon your duty. Renounce desire, and act with detachment.”)

Shri Parulekar listened, each word falling into his heart like a seed. This was no ordinary career advice. It was a guiding light from one who could see not just the direction of a profession, but the karmic path of a soul.

He felt as though Baba had seen straight through him, to his sincerity, his longing, and his hidden fears about entering a profession that often tempted one into compromise. In those few moments, Baba had not only acknowledged his inner struggle but also offered a way to live in the world without being of it.

Baba then looked away, as if to indicate the conversation was over, not out of disregard, but as a nudge for Shri Parulekar to begin walking the path on his own feet. There was nothing more to be said. The real initiation had already happened—not with mantras, not with rituals, but with a divine look, a testing fire, and a few words of eternal wisdom.

Shri Parulekar prostrated once again. His heart was full—reverence, awe, and clarity blending in a sacred harmony. With renewed faith and inner strength, he turned to leave, carrying Baba’s blessings deep within the silence of his being.

That moment, brief as it may have seemed, had altered the entire course of his life.

Baba’s Guidance

Upon his return from Vajreshwari, having fulfilled the silent instructions given to him earlier, Shri Parulekar once again entered the sacred precincts of the Ashram. But this time, everything felt different. The earlier vision of Baba as an aloof, almost fearsome ascetic had melted away. What now emanated from Baba was an overwhelming sense of divine tenderness. The same stick that had commanded silence and distance now seemed to carry the gentleness of a mother’s touch and the protection of a father’s hand.

As Shri Parulekar sat before Him, a deep silence settled—not just in the hall, but within himself. Baba did not speak immediately, but when He finally did, His voice was soft, nurturing, yet deeply authoritative.

He looked into Shri Parulekar’s eyes as if gazing straight into his soul and said:

“Nirmal Man.” (A pure mind—untainted by ego, hatred, or selfish desires.)
“Nischal Man.” (A steady mind—unshaken by success or failure, praise or blame.)
“Vishal Man.” (An expansive mind—that holds space for all beings without judgment.)
“Sudha Bhavana.” (Pure intentions—free of cunning, rooted in love and Dharma.)
“Vivek aani Buddhi.” (Discrimination and intelligence—the compass to navigate the world righteously.)

Each word was not just an instruction—it was a seed of transformation. Baba was not merely advising; He was moulding a life, shaping a soul.

He paused, then continued in a voice imbued with both gravity and grace:

“Kartavya kara. Nirmal theva man. Buddhi vikasit kara. Satya hech shastra samjha. Smaranat raha. Sudha Bhavana theva.”
(“Do your duty. Keep your mind pure. Develop your intellect. Know that Truth is your only weapon. Remain in remembrance. Maintain pure intentions.”)

Then, as if a father were sending off his son at the threshold of life, Baba’s gaze lingered on Shri Parulekar. His tone softened even further. Raising the stick once more—not as a warning now, but as benediction—He said with infinite love:

“Ata ja. Ja aani kartavya kar.”
(“Now go. Go and do your duty.”)

The silence returned. But it was no longer just quiet—it was sacred. Shri Parulekar sat still, drenched in Baba’s compassion, reluctant to move. He closed his eyes tightly, as if to capture that divine image of Baba and lock it within the innermost chamber of his heart. Every word had imprinted itself into his soul.

Slowly, with reverence, he stepped backwards out of the Ashram, never turning his back to Baba, carrying in his heart the fragrance of Divine instruction.

As he walked to the main road and boarded the bus to Bhivandi, the world outside seemed unchanged—but the world within him had shifted entirely. Baba’s form continued to glow before his eyes, and His words reverberated like a sacred mantra in his ears.

Shri Parulekar began to introspect deeply. What had Baba truly given him?

He had not received a mantra, nor a formal diksha. But he had received Bhod—a direct transmission of truth. Baba had spoken to him not in the language of religion, but in the language of Dharma. He had shown him how to sublimate the mind—how to refine it until it became:

  • Nirmal – free of impurities.

  • Nischal – immune to worldly turbulence.

  • Vishal – capable of universal compassion.

And the way to achieve this? Baba had hinted with immense subtlety:
“Develop your brainpower.”
This was no call for pride in intellect, but a reminder that true inner control arises when Buddhi (reason) is used as a charioteer to rein in the senses, and when Vivek (conscience) becomes one’s constant guide.

As an Advocate, Baba reminded him: Use your mind to discern truth, your heart to remain pure, and your life as an offering of righteous service. One who stands for justice must not be tempted by name, fame, or gain. He must remember Smriti—the remembrance of the Self and the higher purpose of his role in society.

“Treat all equally,” Baba’s voice echoed again. “Be righteous toward all, regardless of status or circumstance. Do not fall into the traps of greed or pride. Let Sudha Bhavana be your anchor.”

In that single meeting, Shri Parulekar had been given a complete map—not only to navigate his career with integrity, but to walk the spiritual path even in the heart of worldly duties. It was a rare union of Karma and Jnana—a living example of Karma Yoga.

He did not need to return again to Ganeshpuri physically. Baba had already taken residence within him. For the rest of his life, Shri Parulekar lived with that Smriti—that divine remembrance—guiding every choice, every argument, every act of service.

In that one Darshan, Shri Parulekar had found not just a Guru.
He had found his Lord Vitthal.

A Life Transformed

With the blessings and direct guidance of Bhagavan Nityananda, Shri Parulekar began the journey of his professional and spiritual life. Each morning, before setting out to the court, he would sit quietly and meditate on Baba’s words. They were not mere teachings to him, but living mantras—living shaktis—that gradually shaped his mind and intentions. The phrases “Nirmal Man, Nischal Man, Vishal Man, Sudha Bhavana, Vivek, Buddhi” echoed silently within him like the gentle murmur of a sacred river. As an advocate in a field known for complexity, moral dilemmas, and worldly entanglements, Baba’s words became his compass. He never made a move without contemplating their deeper significance.

Over time, he gained recognition for his integrity and deep commitment to justice. Those who approached him for legal help were often touched by his calm presence and honest approach. Yet, Shri Parulekar never attributed his progress to personal merit. He believed, with unwavering faith, that it was only Baba who carried him across life’s challenges. In court, in solitude, in the shifting tides of joy and sorrow, he felt Baba’s invisible hand guiding him, protecting him, and deepening his spiritual awareness.

Though the world saw a competent and respected lawyer, within, Shri Parulekar remained a devoted seeker, walking the path silently with his Guru’s grace as his only strength. The experience at Ganeshpuri remained sacred and private to him, so deep that he had only ever shared it with his beloved mother. Listening to her son’s account, she too yearned for Baba’s darshan. And so, a second journey to Ganeshpuri was undertaken—this time not in doubt or hesitation, but with faith glowing bright in his heart.

They arrived at Vaikuntha Ashram and quietly entered the hall where Baba was seated. This time, Shri Parulekar noticed a quiet radiance in Baba’s demeanour, as He sat facing the open window, His gaze immersed in the vast beyond. Parulekar offered full prostration and humbly said, “Baba, I have brought my mother for your darshan.”

Without turning, Baba replied in a thunderous yet serene voice:


“People come here to ask for children. Does anyone come here asking for God?”

The words stunned them. The question was direct, sharp, and unsettling. Shri Parulekar had always longed for God, not for worldly gains, but in that moment, he found no voice to articulate it. The silence that followed was filled with Baba’s divine presence.

Then, Baba spoke again:
“Nirmal Man, Nischal Man, Vishal Man.”
But this time, He added a new instruction:
“Dhyana – Concentration.”

The guidance was now complete—Baba was not merely instructing him to purify the mind and expand it, but to anchor it in stillness, to turn within, to meditate deeply. It was a call to cultivate one-pointed awareness, the key to self-realisation.

As they sat in awe, a sudden burst of celebration entered the room—a village wedding procession arrived, complete with beating drums and the lilting music of the shehnai. The newlywed couple, adorned in traditional finery, approached Baba reverently and bowed at His feet. Around Baba lay a large pile of bananas and coconuts, as if nature itself had offered them.

Without ceremony, Baba gestured to the bride and groom:
“Take them all and go.”

The villagers gathered the fruit with care, grateful for the Prasad. Just as they turned to leave, Baba threw a brand-new saree and dhoti toward them, saying:
“Take this too and go.”

What astonished everyone, including Shri Parulekar and his mother, was that there was no visible source for these fresh, neatly packed clothes. Baba sat on a bare wooden bench. There was nothing near Him. Yet, these objects appeared as if from the unseen—materialising through divine will.

Shri Parulekar’s heart stirred. Here was a Master not bound by the laws of the world. Baba, the divine alchemist, who turned the formless into form and who wrapped his teachings in simple words yet with immeasurable grace.

Once again, Baba turned to them and said,
“Now go away from here.”

Silently, they bowed and left. On their way back, Shri Parulekar was lost in contemplation. The word “Dhyana” now echoed within him like a divine bell. His rational mind kept circling back to the sudden materialisation of the saree and dhoti, but another part of him—his heart—knew that this was Baba’s play, His Leela, meant to awaken something deeper.

From that day, a quiet transformation took root. Whenever Shri Parulekar found a moment away from his legal duties, his mind would naturally gravitate toward Baba. He could no longer escape the pull. Baba’s form, Baba’s words, Baba’s silence—these became his constant companions. He began spending more time in solitude, reflecting on the divine attributes Baba had instructed him to cultivate: purity, steadiness, expansiveness, pure intention, intellect, discernment, and now deep concentration.

A new life had begun within. What was once a visit had now become an inner pilgrimage.
And through this pilgrimage, Shri Parulekar did not merely serve in the court of law—he served in the court of dharma.

He had found not just a Guru, but his Lord Vitthal—not in stone, nor in a temple, but as the living God who transformed his life from within.

A Sacred Union and a Life of Purpose

Shri Dinkar Parulekar eventually married Smt. Krishna Bai, herself a sincere and ardent devotee of Bhagavan Nityananda. Hailing from the Goud Saraswat Brahmin (G.S.B.) community of Talmiki Wadi in Girgaon, Mumbai, Smt. Krishna Bai was a woman of rare strength, beauty, and intellect. She possessed an innate spiritual yearning, which, from a young age, drew her to the path of renunciation. Despite being admired for her grace and education, and receiving many marriage proposals, she was deeply committed to her inner quest for Truth.

Her longing was so intense that she once expressed a heartfelt desire to become a sannyasini and approached Bhagavan Nityananda to seek His guidance. Baba, who always recognized the innermost longing of each soul, gave her permission to pursue this path and join the Ramakrishna Mission. She journeyed there with sincerity and even registered herself as a resident monk. However, when she learned that shaving one’s head was a prerequisite—a symbolic gesture of complete renunciation—she hesitated. Though willing to give up the world, this particular condition unsettled her. Torn between her commitment to the path and her personal sensibilities, she chose to return to her parental home.

Once again, she came before Baba and confided her decision to renounce her earlier resolve to become a sannyasini. Baba, in His infinite wisdom, simply said, “Then get married.” Her parents, though relieved, were still puzzled. They asked, “How can she now return to grahasthashram (householder’s life) after taking diksha?” Baba calmly replied, “She only wore the dress of a renunciant. She did not become one in truth.”

In the days that followed, her parents began looking for a suitable groom from within their community. However, Baba had already chosen someone for her—Shri Dinkar Parulekar, the young lawyer whom He had taken under His wing. At first, the proposal met with resistance; community traditions weighed heavily. Yet, when Baba’s Will became known, objections melted away. With His blessings, the two were united in marriage—an extraordinary union forged not by worldly arrangements, but by divine ordination.

Together, Shri Dinkar Parulekar and Smt. Krishna Bai became torchbearers of Baba’s teachings. Krishna Bai, with her keen intellect and unwavering faith, gathered around her a circle of spiritually inclined seekers, including educated youth, scholars, and sadhakas. She guided and inspired many, leading satsangs and encouraging the study of Baba’s life and philosophy. Their home became a sanctum for spiritual reflection and discussion. Many important literary works on Bhagavan Nityananda, His teachings, and Sadhana methods emerged from these efforts.

Throughout his life, Shri Dinkar Parulekar remained rooted in the values imparted by Baba. In both his legal profession and personal life, he lived by the ideals of Nirmal Man (Pure Mind), Nischal Man (Steady Mind), Vishal Man (Expansive Mind), and the qualities of Sudhabhavana (Refined Emotion) and Sadbhavana (Goodwill for All). The cryptic question posed by Baba—“Does anyone come here asking for God?”—reverberated within him for decades. It was a question that pierced through superficial pursuits and awakened in him a deeper resolve to seek nothing but the Divine.

He devoted himself to Dhyana (Meditation) and continued his inner journey silently and steadfastly. In time, he came under the guidance of Swami Muktananda and received Shaktipāt, the sacred initiation into the awakening of Kundalini, further intensifying his inner transformation.

One of Shri Parulekar’s most significant contributions to the Nityananda lineage is his biography of the Master titled Tujha Visar Na Vavha (“May I Never Forget You”). Written in 1961 with Bhagavan Nityananda’s own blessings, this precious work remains a primary source of inspiration for devotees. Through evocative prose and sincere devotion, he painted a portrait of Baba not as a distant mystic but as an ever-present source of grace and wisdom. His writing captures the silent majesty, the fierce compassion, and the mysterious leelas of Ganeshpuri’s Avadhuta.

In every way, Shri Parulekar’s life stood as a harmonious blend of worldly responsibilities and spiritual ascent. As an advocate, he stood for justice and integrity. As a devotee, he offered his life in service of the Sadguru. His spiritual pursuits were never separate from his daily duties—they were seamlessly integrated, forming the very foundation of his being.

The union of Shri Parulekar and Smt. Krishna Bai exemplifies how true spirituality does not reject life but sanctifies it. Their journey shows us that with the Guru’s guidance, even the seemingly contradictory paths of worldly life and renunciation can merge into a higher unity. Their home, their words, their sadhana, and their seva—everything bore the fragrance of their devotion.

A Legacy of Light

Shri Parulekar’s legacy endures not only through his writings but through the living inspiration he offered to generations of seekers. His unwavering devotion, clarity of purpose, and steadfast practice embody the transformative power of surrender to a true Sadguru. Those who read his works or recall his life feel that he was not merely a chronicler of divine events but a quiet mystic, shaped and refined by the invisible hand of Bhagavan Nityananda.

May his journey continue to inspire all who walk the path of devotion, inquiry, and surrender.