Shri Jagannathji (Bhaasa), as I Remembered Him
When I think of Shri Jagannathji—whom everyone lovingly called Bhaasa—the image that comes to mind is of a man of exceptional intelligence and deep thoughtfulness, combined with extraordinary kindness and a quiet, unassuming grace. Though simple in manners, he possessed a gentle magnetism that drew people toward him naturally. Anyone who met him, even briefly, felt an instinctive affection, gravitating toward him as one would toward an elder brother. That is precisely why he was Bhaasa to everyone—a dear, affectionate older brother.
Shri Jagannathji was born in 1924. From an early age, he displayed a remarkable scholarly temperament throughout his school and college years. Like the finest students of his generation, he chose to pursue a master’s degree in philosophy at Maharaja College (present-day Jai Narain Vyas University, Jodhpur). A principal reason for this choice was the presence of an extraordinary teacher, Professor V. H. Date, who was then on the faculty of the Department of Philosophy.
Shri Jagannathji later completed a second master’s degree in Hindi literature and joined the state government school system. There, he quickly earned a reputation as a teacher of exceptional caliber—respected for both his intellectual depth and his moral integrity.
My earliest memories of him go back to when I was a small child of five or six years. Every Sunday, Shri Jagannathji would come to our home along with Shri Faujmalji, Atusa (Prof. M. P. Vyas), and Shri Ramduttji for a weekly spiritual gathering. These meetings took place with the permission and blessings of Professor Date—revered by all of them as their spiritual preceptor and Guru—whom we fondly referred to as Gurumaharaj. This was sometime between 1962 and 1966. I still possess the original letter Gurumaharaj wrote to my father in which he clearly stated that the Sunday programs should be conducted “for the propagation of spiritual message and not for propaganda.”
These gatherings usually began with the reading of the Dasabodh of Sant Ramdas Maharaj in Marathi, followed by one or two hours of quiet meditation. After a short interval for tea—lovingly prepared by my mother—the circle would reconvene for readings from Gurudev Ranade’s writings on mysticism and philosophy. These included Mysticism in Maharashtra, Paramarth Sopan and its English companion Pathway to God, along with works such as Kannada Mysticism, Shri Bhausaheb Maharaj’s Jeevan Charitra, Shri Baba’s Athavani, and Sant Ramdas Maharaj’s Manache Shloka.
These readings were interwoven with reminiscences of Shri Gurudeva and Shri Baba, shared by Prof. Date from his own lived experiences and from my father’s own association with Shri Gurudeva, after his momentous visit to Nimbal with Shri Gurumaharaj and Mataji in 1951 and later initiation by Shri Gurudeva. Shri Faujmalji also used to recount in graphic details the amazing experience of his brief but most unforgettable meeting with Shri Gurudeva. Shri Faujmalji, too, would often recount—in vivid and moving detail—the extraordinary experience of his brief yet unforgettable meeting with Shri Gurudeva.
The echoes of Hindi padas from Shri Gurudeva’s Paramarth Sopan, so beautifully sung by Shri Ramduttji, still linger in my ears and remain deeply etched in my memory. The english version of the Paramarth Sopan—was read aloud and explained by Shri Jagannathji. Shri Atusa would then render a bhajan in his rich and exceptional voice. The session would conclude with Ratri-che-Bhajan, aarti, and prasad.
What made these gatherings truly remarkable were the deeply philosophical and spiritual discussions that unfolded during and after the readings. Bhaasa’s insights were always highly regarded, especially his ability to recall Gurumaharaj’s discourses and illuminate the subject through apt quotations. His familiarity with the writings of Hindi saints—Kabir, Raidas, Dadu, Mirabai, Surdas, and Tulsidas—allowed him to draw out the essence of the topic under discussion. The mystical experiences of these saints, along with those of Shri Gurudeva, Shri Nimbergi Maharaj, Shri Bhausaheb Maharaj, Shri Amburao Maharaj (Baba), and Gurumaharaj himself, were often recounted and reflected upon.
After Gurumaharaj and Shri Mataji moved to Jodhpur in 1966, the Sunday programs naturally shifted to Gurudham at 63, Jaswant Sarai. Over time, attendance grew steadily, and I recall that twenty-five to thirty people would gather with quiet regularity. It was around 1967 that several of us from the next generation—including Anand Bhaisaheb, Azad Bhaisaheb, my elder brother Rajendra, and I—began attending these programs as well. For us, these spiritual assemblies were nothing short of a veritable heaven—an atmosphere permeated with devotion, warmth, and an unspoken sense of belonging that drew us back every week.
Bhaasa was a pillar of these gatherings. Gurumaharaj would often seek his affirmation on spiritual matters, asking, “Yeh theek hai na, Jagannathji?” Bhaasa would gently nod and reply, “Barobar hai, Sir—quite right, Sir.”
Later, Bhaasa was transferred to a high school in Ratkudia, a small and remote village about 80 kilometers from Jodhpur. The nearest railway station was ten kilometers away. The school served students from surrounding villages, and the campus consisted of a single main building and a solitary well that supplied drinking water to teachers and their families. Electricity, when available at all, was limited to a few hours a day.
For most city teachers, such a posting would have felt like a punishment. Not so for Bhaasa. He welcomed the solitude and simplicity of Ratkudia as a divine gift. Like the rishis of old, he devoted nearly all his free time to intense meditation and spiritual practice. His sadhana soon bore fruit in the form of profound spiritual experiences, earning the admiration of Gurumaharaj, who once remarked: “Baba, Jagannath ahoratra sadhana karta hai. Uska shaant bhav aur chehre par jo tej hai, it is a reflection of his internal bliss.”
This spiritual depth—born of long hours of meditation and extensive study of philosophical and mystical literature—made Bhaasa, Gurumaharaj’s trusted confidant. He frequently assisted in discussions and edited early drafts of Gurumaharaj’s manuscripts. It is no surprise that Bhaasa’s name appears prominently in the acknowledgments of nearly every book Gurumaharaj published. Again, it was no wonder that Ratkudia became a virtual ashram where Gurumaharaj and Mataji with a host of sadhakas went for a sort of spiritual summer retreat for intense collective meditation and spiritual discourses, every year up until Bhaasa’s retirement.
As the spiritual gatherings at Gurudham grew, they began attracting new seekers, including some of Bhaasa’s fellow teachers from Ratkudia. I recall that after the Sunday sessions at Gurudham, many aspiring sadhakas would accompany Bhaasa back to his home, where a second, informal session would unfold. They would ask him questions, seek clarifications, and share doubts that had arisen in their minds. Like a loving elder brother, Bhaasa answered patiently, drawing upon his mature wisdom and personal mystical experiences. In this way, he became an anchor for many on their spiritual journeys.
One of my most unforgettable memories is our pilgrimage to Nimbal undertaken during the Dussehra vacations of 1973. On Gurumaharaj’s advice, my father and Bhaasa decided to go together, and for Bhaasa it was his first visit to Nimbal—a truly momentous journey. The group included Bhaasa, his eldest son Anand, my parents, my five siblings and me, and another couple from Bikaner.
I vividly remember the two-day train journey from Jodhpur to Nimbal. Bhaasa was often deeply absorbed in meditation, gazing out of the window as though peering into vast inner spaces—perhaps witnessing mystical visions. At other times, he would ask my father about his recollections of Shri Gurudeva from visits to Nimbal and Allahabad since the early 1950s. Bhaasa’s joyful anticipation of paying obeisance at the feet of Shri Gurudeva was palpable. He continuously hummed the naam and sang bhajans softly, immersed in devotion.
Upon reaching the Nimbal Ashram, his happiness knew no bounds. He remained in a state of bliss throughout our stay. For five or six days, he hardly left the Dhyan Mandir, spending nearly all his time in meditation. It felt as though a long-flowing river had finally merged with the ocean.
On a deeply personal note, I consider it my great fortune to have been loved by Bhaasa, my Jagannathji Tauji (being slightly older than my father, we addressed him as Tauji– father’s elder brother). I always felt Bhaasa’s special fondness for me. He constantly encouraged me to study well, be an obedient son, sing bhajans and do meditation regularly. When I was still in middle school, he once told me that by Gurumaharaj’s grace you would go on to study and work at the very best academic institutions. His prophetic words and blessings have accompanied me throughout my academic journey that continues to date by the Grace of Shri Gurumaharaj.
I offer my heartfelt salutations to dear Bhaasa, who was—and continues to be—a beacon of the highest spiritual ideals and a model of pure, simple humanity for so many of us.
Jitendra Sharma