My Father………..X To remain ceaselessly connected

Raghunath Shenoy with folded hands near Baba's head.

Raghunath Shenoy with folded hands near Baba’s head.

The abhang below was composed by Shree Sant Tukaram Maharaj, which perfectly encapsulates the experience of a true devotee, forever accompanied and protected by the grace of the Sadguru. The verses are as follows:

जेथे जातो तेथे तू माझा सांगाती
चालविसी हाती धरुनिया
(Wherever I go, Thou art my constant companion, leading me by the hand.)

चालो वाटे आम्ही तुझाची आधार
चालविसी भार सवे माझा
(I walk the path of life depending solely on Thee. Thou bearest my burdens.)बोलो जाता बरळ करीसी ते नीट
नेली लाज, धीट केलो देवा
(When I falter or babble, Thou makest my words right. Thou hast removed my fear and made me courageous, O Lord.)तुका म्हणे आता खेळतो कौतूके
जाले तुझे सुख अंतर्बाही
(Says Tuka: Now I play and rejoice in Thy wondrous grace, experiencing Thy bliss within and without.)

These lines reflect not only the spiritual intimacy between the Sadguru and the devotee but also how the Sadguru actively walks with the devotee, bearing his burdens, correcting his missteps, and filling his life with courage, protection, and inner joy.

In the lives of blessed devotees, such verses are not mere poetry — they are living truths.

In our family, this reality manifested tangibly through the life of my father, whose bond with Bhagavan Nityananda was an unbroken thread of divine protection and guidance.

Our grocery store, Shree Guruprasad Harilal Stores, located just opposite Sandhurst Road railway station, was a frequent place of visit for Bhagavan Nityananda. He would appear unannounced, quietly come and sit at the counter, as if He was overseeing not just the shop, but the lives of all who served there.

During the turbulent days of the British Raj, when the “divide and rule” policies had unleashed waves of communal violence across Bombay, the area around our store became a flashpoint for deadly riots. In one such terrible incident, a Pathan was killed and his body left outside our store. A strict curfew with “shoot on sight” orders was in force. Yet, unaware of the full danger, my father, driven by the responsibility to serve, had opened the shop.

When he came face-to-face with the horrific sight of the dead body outside and realised the grave implications — the imminent danger of police reprisal — his mind went blank with terror. He stood paralysed, unable to think or act.

At that critical moment, Bhagavan Nityananda manifested within the store. In His stern yet loving way, He scolded my father for having dared to open the shop despite the curfew, and instructed him to immediately shut it down and return home to Girgaon.

My father, though shaken, obeyed instantly. But a new fear gripped him: how could he traverse the curfew-laden streets patrolled by ruthless police with shoot-at-sight orders? Bhagavan, reading his unspoken fear, simply pointed His finger towards the street and said, “Here.”

Miraculously, a horse-drawn Victoria — the dignified carriages named after Queen Victoria — manifested right in front of the shop. Without hesitation, my father boarded it, and the driver cracked his whip, urging the horses into motion.

 

As the Victoria glided through the city, it passed several police checkpoints. Yet, astonishingly, the carriage seemed invisible to the authorities. Not once was it stopped. My father, under the complete protection of Bhagavan’s invisible hand, reached home safely, untouched, unseen, unharmed.

Looking back, my father often described this incident as an embodiment of the Abhang of Sant Tukaram:

  • Bhagavan walked with him, taking him by the hand through mortal danger.

  • Bhagavan bore his burden when his mind collapsed under fear.

  • Bhagavan corrected his mistakes, making his actions right.

  • Bhagavan gave him courage, replacing paralysing fear with faith.

Truly, Bhagavan Nityananda was his constant companion, his unseen but ever-present guide, just as Tukaram Maharaj described the Lord to be.

From that moment onwards, till the last breath of his life, my father knew one truth beyond doubt:
Bhagavan Nityananda was, and remains, ceaselessly connected to him.

Such are the wondrous leelas of the Sadguru, who silently weaves his grace into the smallest and greatest moments of the devotee’s life — bearing their burdens, correcting their errors, protecting them from perils, and ultimately leading them into the inner and outer bliss (Antarbaahi Sukha) that Shree Sant Tukaram Maharaj sings of with so much love.

My cousin, late Shree Madhukar Shenoy, once said, “We Shenoys were ordinary householder devotees, with all the usual weaknesses, vices, and shortcomings. What, then, drew us finally into His fold? It was the ceaseless connection we maintained with Him. He became an inseparable part of our lives; our entire existence revolved around Him. Though we often succumbed to the pulls and pushes of worldly life, we never let go of Him — not even for a moment. We did not engage in formal spiritual practices, yet our faith in our Sadguru remained unwavering. True to the nature of a Sadguru, He never once released our hands. And in our final moments in this world, we found Him there, arriving to take us Home.”