Beyond Words, Beyond Time: Meeting Mahant Swami Maharaj

Humans are driven by feelings. Long after words have faded, after moments have passed, what lingers is how we felt—how someone made us feel.

This is not an account of events. It is not a collection of stories or incidents. This is something far more delicate, far more elusive. This is a reflection on a feeling. A humble, feeble attempt to put into words what can only truly be experienced by the heart.

Not just any feeling, but the feeling of meeting Mahant Swami Maharaj.

Before you read further, I invite you to pause the whirlwind of your life. Detach for a few minutes. Step away from the noise, the distractions, the endless movement. Imagine you are there, in the presence of Mahant Swami Maharaj. Still your mind and allow yourself to experience this—not just as words on a page, but as something real, something felt.

This writing is not a record of conversations, nor the vastness of his wisdom, or the sheer magnitude of his responsibilities. Instead, it is about something deeper, something that cannot be transcribed or quoted. It is about the silent, immeasurable experience of being in his presence. Because to sit before him is not just to meet a spiritual leader, not just to meet a person who carries the problems, hopes, aspirations, emotions of countless, it is to meet someone who, in that moment, carries only you.

This is not just my experience. It is the experience of thousands who have met him across decades. Different times, different people, different circumstances—yet the same undeniable feeling.

Moments and feelings have a way of revealing truth. The way you feel in a moment says less about you and more about the moment itself. The way you feel in someone’s presence says even more—about them.

And when you sit before Mahant Swami Maharaj, you do not just witness his presence. You experience it. And in that experience, you begin to grasp, however faintly, the greatness of who he truly is.

This article is a window into Mahant Swami Maharaj, seen through the feelings we experience when we meet him.

The moment you step into the room, something shifts. The air feels different; calmer, lighter, filled with an imperceptible divinity. And there he is, seated before you, a soft smile spreading across his face as if he has been waiting just for you. His smile is warm, inviting, reassuring.

In that instant, every inhibition, every nervous thought evaporates. You are with him, and that is all that matters.

You move closer, settling before him. His stillness is remarkable: his legs do not move, his body completely at rest, exuding a tranquillity that is almost otherworldly. Then, you begin speaking.

He listens, not just with his ears, but with his entire being. Listening is often thought of as an act of hearing, but with Swamishri, it is something far deeper. When he sits before you, it feels as though he is not only listening through his ears, but absorbing totally with his mind and heart. Picture the way a sponge effortlessly, gracefully soaks up water. He listens in the same way, fully, completely. He listens to understand, not to respond. You feel valued in a way that is rare, almost impossible to find elsewhere.

His hands rest gently on a pillow in his lap, occasionally shifting with slow, deliberate grace—never abrupt, never distracting. Sometimes, a single finger rests on his lips in contemplation. At times, his palms open slightly. When he agrees with something, his index finger moves ever so slightly, tracing the air in affirmation. And sometimes, his fingers interlock in a serene almost meditative posture, that reflects his calm composure. There are many more such gestures.

But it is through his eyes that he truly communicates. His eyes are extraordinary. They do not merely look at you—they see you. When Mahant Swami Maharaj’s eyes meet yours, they do not waver, nor do they quiver with distraction. They remain steady, deep, knowing. It is as though they reach past the words you speak, beyond what you choose to share, and into the very thoughts and emotions you carry within. It is as if he has known you for eternity. There is a quiet intensity in them; not overwhelming, not piercing, but vast and boundless. They draw you in with their depth. His eyes do not just acknowledge your presence, they embrace it.

His expressions speak just as much as his eyes. They are his unspoken response, each movement revealing a quiet depth of emotion. There is the flicker of curiosity—his brows lifting ever so slightly, his eyes widening with genuine interest. A moment of astonishment, as if he is hearing something profoundly new, though you know he has heard it all before. A quiet nod of understanding, a slight tilt of the head as he hears your words. At times, a look of deep contemplation. And when you bring something grave or troubling to him, his brows crease ever so slightly, revealing a deep concern that makes it feel as though the problem you have mentioned has become his own. He feels what you feel—that’s true empathy.

You can see when he is processing your words. His expression shifts ever so subtly. His brows draw in slightly and he gazes slightly upwards, as if he is giving every thought the weight it deserves. These subtle cues make it effortless to follow the rhythm of conversation. You instinctively know when to continue speaking and when to pause, as his face becomes a quiet guide. Every sentence you speak is absorbed—a slow, measured nod, a silent assurance that he is fully present. His head movements seem to follow the rhythm of your words, each tilt and gesture a perfect mirror of the tone and theme of your sentences, as if his expressions and subtle motions are harmoniously attuned to the themes of your conversation.

An example of Mahant Swami Maharaj’s eye contact and connection with you is seen whenever showing him slides or visuals on a screen. Normally, a screen would easily distract, and attention would be drawn to the moving slides, yet Mahant Swami Maharaj remains entirely focused on you. You have to actively point him to the screen for him to look at it. He will glance at the screen momentarily, only to return his gaze to yours, as if his attention is entirely devoted to you, not the display. So, whenever showing him anything on a screen, this cycle continues, with the need to redirect his attention back to the screen. Such is the depth of his focus on you.

Even when the need arises to capture a moment, and photographer might step forward to take a photograph, Swamishri remains undisturbed, as if the photographer is invisible. The click of the camera, the subtle movement of the lens, none of it makes the slightest dent in his unwavering attention. His gaze remains unbroken—there is not a hint of distraction, no shift in his expression. It is as though the entire world outside his immediate moment of concentration simply dissolves.

Then, there is his smile – graceful, radiant. Observing and recollecting closely, you realise there is actually an entire array, a palette of smiles, with a variety of hues, shades, and textures.

Some are faint, a gentle curve of his lips, Others are slightly cheeky, pursed lips with a slight pout, as if you and he share a silent understanding, a moment of connection that only the two of you can appreciate. And then there are those beaming smiles, wide and full of life, lighting up the room in an instant. There are countless varieties, each one distinct in its own way. I cannot fully recollect or describe them all, for their beauty transcends words and my memory falls short. But one thing is common in them all: his smile is beautiful. It has a way of filling your heart, of touching your soul. When he smiles at you, it draws you into a trance, as if the world fades away and nothing else exists in that moment.A smile that does not simply convey joy—it gives it, wrapping you in warmth, making you feel truly loved.

And yet, beyond all of this, there is something even more profound. As humans, we crave reassurance and validation—silent affirmations that we are heard, that we are understood, that we are enough. This is what he so effortlessly provides. Without a single word of reassurance, he makes you feel reassured. Without explicitly validating, he makes you feel validated. He makes you feel like you’re on the right track, on the right path. It’s a feeling so subtle yet so powerful, as if in his presence, every doubt and uncertainty gently dissolves. Perhaps that is why we all go to him. Sometimes, we don’t need guidance or advice, we simply need his reassurance, because his blessings, his safety, are what push us forward.

You feel safe, as if no harm could reach you. Secure, as though you belong completely in that moment. Fearless, as if every worry or hesitation fades in the warmth of his gaze. Comfortable, not just in his presence, but within yourself. Each one of those feelings is precious on its own, yet to feel them all at once, in the presence of one individual, must tell you a great deal about who Mahant Swami Maharaj truly is. And perhaps what makes this feeling even more extraordinary is the way he transforms time itself.

In a world that constantly rushes forward, where conversations are hurried and moments slip through our fingers, Mahant Swami Maharaj makes you feel as though time itself slows down. In those moments with him, it is as if nothing else exists—no schedules, no constraints, no urgency. Just you and him.

Through his demeanour alone, he makes you feel that he wants to be there, that he is not just listening but enjoying listening. His body language radiates an effortless ease, an unspoken reassurance that this moment—your moment—matters. There is no impatience, only pure, undivided attention. Not just attention, but a loving attention.

And so, you speak. You say more than you intended to, because his presence makes you feel as though you should. You lose track of time, because he makes you feel as though he has all the time in the world for you. And perhaps this is why, inevitably, meetings with him stretch longer than anticipated, not because he demands it, but because you never want to leave.

Yet, paradoxically, time is what he does not have. His days are full, his schedule relentless,
his responsibilities vast. And yet, when he is with you, none of that is felt. In those moments,
you feel as though you are the most important person in the world. He listens as if nothing
else exists. The truth is, he is stretched for time—but the greater truth is, he never makes you
feel it. And that is the extraordinary thing. In a world that values efficiency, that counts
seconds and measures productivity, Mahant Swami Maharaj offers something far greater—
presence.

Even when you speak of your shortcomings, your struggles, or the times you have faltered in
following agnas, his face remains untouched by judgment—only compassion fills his
expression. In those moments, his face changes. A visible shift washes over him, exuding even
more love, even more care, as if he is soaking in your pain and replacing it with reassurance
and compassion.

His eyes soften, his gaze deepens, and without a single word, he comforts you. It is as if his very presence is saying,

“Don’t worry. I understand. I empathise. I know what you are going through. I am with you. Do not feel scared or burdened. Feel light, loved, and strong.” And in that moment, something remarkable happens: you feel as though you have done nothing wrong at all. That is how much he soaks you in, how completely he embraces you, dissolving every trace of guilt or hesitation with his silent, boundless love.

His face conveys all of this effortlessly. He does not need to speak, because his silence carries more comfort than words ever could.

But indeed, he does speak. When you seek his guidance or blessings, he responds but with words that carry depth and clarity. His speech is an extension of his humility—gentle, unhurried, and deeply considerate. He never interrupts, never imposes his voice over yours. He waits, allowing you to finish your thought completely, as if each word you speak is of utmost importance. Then, slowly, almost as if seeking your silent permission, he begins to speak.

His voice is soft, never forceful, never demanding attention. There is no excess, no embellishment—only what needs to be said, nothing more, nothing less. At times, his brevity is so profound that you find yourself asking him to expand, to say more.

His responses are always encouraging, always kind, always empowering. But to truly hear him, you must also learn to wait. He does not rush to fill silence, nor does he compete to be heard. If you leave space—if you allow a moment of stillness—then he will speak. He will never, or only very rarely, interrupt to say something. To listen to him is not just to hear words, but to gain wisdom.

He is remarkably sharp, with an uncanny ability to read your face. The moment he senses even the slightest confusion, he adjusts effortlessly. For instance, if he uses a word in Gujarati and notices you haven’t grasped its meaning, he will immediately catch it and seamlessly translate it into English—always ensuring you are with him, never left behind.

There is a particular expression on his face when a profound insight has crystallised within him, and he is on the verge of sharing it. The moment you notice it, you must pause. Be patient. Let him take his time. You can see he is searching for a way to express his thoughts. The fact that he does not immediately speak, or takes time to express himself in words, should never be mistaken for hesitation or lack of clarity. On the contrary, it is because his thoughts are so vast, so deep, and so intricately layered that language itself struggles to hold their depth. And he knows, too, that our minds may not easily grasp what he wishes to convey—so he takes the time to shape his point with the utmost care.

And because he speaks with such care, using words sparingly and with absolute precision, he will never rush. Every word he chooses is intentional—never wasted, never misplaced.

Sometimes, an attendant might bring a phone close to his face, hoping to record his words so that his wisdom can be shared with many. Even then, when the phone is suddenly and abruptly placed in his line of sight, there is no change in him. Not even an expression of annoyance or a ‘what are you doing?’, he simply continues. Normally, when someone knows they are being recorded, a subtle shift occurs: voices become slightly more measured, words more deliberate, or an underlying self-consciousness may creep in. Some may feel a nervousness, an awareness of being watched that alters their natural flow. But for Mahant Swami Maharaj, there is zero difference. His words continue to flow without hesitation, as though the presence of the recorder doesn’t even register. There is no pretence, no desire to impress, no need for performance. His words are pure, untainted by ego or self-awareness—just the raw truth, spoken with grace. And perhaps that is why, despite all that he is, he never feels distant. His words, like his presence, do not create barriers—they dissolve them.

Despite being the leader of a vast spiritual movement, despite carrying the hopes and aspirations of countless devotees, in that moment, he carries none of it. There is no distance, no hierarchy, no weight of status—only connection. Only you and him. His humility is not a cultivated virtue, but his very essence. He does not impose his presence; he offers it. And in doing so, he reveals a truth far deeper than words: that true greatness is not in being above others, but in being with them, and not only that, in serving them.

Even though you stand before him to seek his guidance, his blessings, his wisdom, he never makes you feel as though he is above you. There is no air of superiority, no divide between guru and disciple. This is not conveyed through words but through the subtleties of his being—his body language, his eyes, his speech, his hands, his stillness. Every aspect of him communicates one thing: you matter.

In fact, as he always says, to be dās na dās—the servant of the servant—is not just his belief, it is his very being. Meeting him, you do not just hear these words, you witness them. You feel them. His humility is not something he preaches; it is something he is. The way he bows to children, the way he insists how he feels that he is not the guru, the way he carries himself with effortless simplicity—these are not mere gestures or statements. They are him.

A person’s truest nature is seen in their most natural state. And when you sit before Mahant Swami Maharaj, when you meet him face to face, you realise that humility is not just a virtue he embodies—it is him, personified.

He is 91. His schedule is relentless. Hundreds of thousands of swamis and devotees look to him for guidance. Every mandir, every Akshardham, every publication, every gathering has his input. It may be through a letter, a voice message, a call, a prayer—but he is involved. And yet, when you sit before him, you feel none of that weight. It is as if he has placed it all aside just to be with you.

Most of us, when busy, want others to know how much we have going on. We signal our importance through our exhaustion, through our hurried responses. But Mahant Swami Maharaj does the opposite. Despite all that he carries, he makes you feel as though you are the only thing that matters.

That is extraordinary. To quote his own words from his book about his experiences with Pramukh Swami Maharaj: ‘Swamishri becomes ordinary in order to make us extraordinary.’ The meeting comes to an end, but something lingers. As you rise to leave, there is no urgency in his demeanour, no rush to move on to the next person. He offers one final nod, a gentle smile—one last acknowledgment that does not fade with the moment but remains imprinted in your heart.

You walk away lighter, your heart full of joy, your mind clear, your soul uplifted. You walk away energised, as if something deep within you has been reignited. But more than anything, you walk away wanting to be better—wanting to serve more, to give more, to love more. Meeting him awakens something within you, a profound urge to rise higher in satsang, to walk the path of sadhana with greater sincerity.

Imagine—if every person who meets him leaves with that same feeling, if every soul carries forward that spark, how much more beautiful, how much more compassionate, how much more elevated the world becomes through him. This is the unseen impact of Mahant Swami Maharaj. He does not just guide—he transforms. He does not just bless—he inspires. And in meeting him, the world itself is made better, one heart at a time.

Later, as you sit with your thoughts, you realise something profound: meeting Mahant Swami Maharaj is not just an event—it is an imprint, an encounter that does not dissolve with time. The more you reflect, the more you realise that the experience defies explanation, that no matter how much you write, how much you articulate, it will always be incomplete—because it is not just about the moments in his presence, but the feeling of having met someone beyond us all. Someone who is above this realm, made of a different stuff to us.

Mahant Swami Maharaj once said that the difficulty with the Satpurush is that he appears completely normal, just like us. But when you observe them, when you reflect deeply, you realise how great Aksharbrahma is. And that is the essence of meeting him. What seems simple on the surface—his silence, his smile, his stillness—when examined closely, reveals a vastness beyond comprehension. He is a different entity. It is his raw sachai, his overflowing selfless love, his deep purity, his entrenched humility that make him who he is.

Humans are not simply identified by their achievements or milestones. True greatness is not always in the grand gestures but often lies in the smallest of actions. It is found in the way a person listens, the warmth of their smile, the sincerity in their words, and the way they engage with the world around them. These minute details reveal the true essence of a human being, the subtle qualities that shape a person’s character. In the case of Mahant Swami Maharaj, these characteristics articulated above are not merely my personal observations but are echoed in the experiences and feelings of so many others who have encountered him. It is in these everyday acts that one begins to comprehend the depth of his greatness. Through these descriptions, I hope you can catch a glimpse of the extraordinary person he truly is.

Perhaps no single moment defines him, no single word encapsulates him. But the small things—the way he listens, the way he sees you, the way he lifts you without making you feel lifted—all come together to paint a picture of who he truly is. And if this article is anything, it is merely a window into Mahant Swami Maharaj, seen through the feelings we experience when we meet him. A window into a presence that stays with you long after you have walked away.

To know more about Mahant Swami Maharaj: https://www.baps.org/About-BAPS/TheFounder%E2%80%93BhagwanSwaminarayan/TheSpiritualLineage-TheGuruParampara/Mahant-Swami-Maharaj.aspx

Mahant Swami Maharaj: An Introductory Film on the Spiritual Leader of BAPS Swaminarayan Sanstha: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7s1OeBc3lHw&t=9s

BAPS Website: https://www.baps.org/