Bhagavan Nityanada and Diwali celebration
Bhagavan Nityananda, lovingly known as Baba, embodied simplicity and renunciation. He wore only a simple langoti—no additional clothing, beads, Rudraksha or Tulsi malas, or sandalwood and vermilion marks. His appearance reflected purna vairagya, absolute renunciation, and he remained attuned to nature in every sense.
On rare occasions, Baba wore a sweater or a kafni that devotees offered with deep love. Yet he would only wear them briefly, removing them soon after the devotees left, whether it was the height of winter or the peak of summer. In his early days, he would sometimes carry a blanket over his shoulder when he walked around the village. Eventually, as more and more devotees gathered to seek his blessings, it became challenging for him to walk freely.
Typically, devotees placed offerings at his feet, as he preferred not to wear garlands. Only occasionally, with his permission, certain devotees performed Padya Pooja for his feet, using water, milk, and coconut water. They would gently wipe his feet, apply sandalwood oil, and offer flowers, including Bel and Tulsi leaves, at his feet. During Diwali, this ritual included placing a Tulsi garland around his neck. My mother would make delicate garlands by spinning threads from a fabric called “longcloth,” decorated with roses and flowers crafted from colorful velvet. These garlands were light and beautiful, and Baba looked radiant with them around his neck. However, he did not permit any tikka on his forehead.
During Diwali, we would offer him traditional Konkani treats, like set dosa, panpola, and sevai with sweet coconut milk. Baba would taste a small portion, then give the rest to my father, who cherished these offerings as sacred prasad.
Baba never wore any headgear. In his younger years, he was seen in Mangalore wearing a simple half-sleeve bush shirt, where he would sit on a bench, welcoming all who came to listen to him speak and answer questions. Occasionally, he would don a kafni for a few hours. Before India’s independence, while in Mumbai, he even requested a three-piece suit from my father. A tailor came, took his measurements, and soon, the suit was ready. Baba wore it, and he and my father walked around the streets of Bombay together. After some time, he removed the suit and threw it away, reverting to his simple attire.
Each Diwali, our family would bring our accounting books to Ganeshpuri for the traditional Chopdi Pooja, a ritual to bless the books for the financial year that, in those days, began on the Diwali New Year. Placed before Baba, the first page of each ledger was marked with a swastika, using red ink or vermilion paste, along with the words Shubha Labh (auspicious profit) written with a special wooden pen. We sought his blessings for abundance and prosperity in the coming year.
My father would also bring a large wooden carton filled with fireworks and crackers. These would be distributed among the village children, adding joy to the festivities.
Times have changed. Today, Chopdi Pooja has lost all its significance because account books are replaced by Tally and other software. Diwali continues to be celebrated in Ganeshpuri. Lamps are lit all over Kailash and Samadhi Mandir. Sweets are distributed all. As I watch the well-lit Kailsha Bhauvan, I remember Him, sitting on the concrete slab as we perform His Padya Pooja. His face glowed with Shakti and His eyes filled with Love, Benevolence and Care.
