Book Excerpt: 'Daughters of Meerabai' By Namrata Chaturvedi

Daughters of Meerabai: Portraits of Unsung Women Mystics by Namrata Chaturvedi traces the spiritual journeys of five enlightened women who pursued the mystic path across three centuries of Indian history. Moving from Old Delhi and Darjeeling to Mumbai and Rishikesh, these seekers, saints, yoginis, devotees, and mediums forge deeply personal routes to awakening.

One abandons her wedding ceremony at her guru’s call; another, widowed young, turns from grief toward the stillness of yogic realization; a wife renounces an empty marriage to reunite with her eternal beloved, Krishna; a student leaves college in surrender to the divine; and a bereaved mother transforms the loss of her son into a sacred discipline through which she experiences messages from beyond.

Through accounts of struggle, surrender, and renewal, Chaturvedi also reflects on her inward journey toward healing and an expanded understanding of life, death, and transcendence.

Book Excerpt: Daughters of Meerabai

Bhuribai ‘Alakh’: What appears clear is really a dream

There is a profound spiritual book, and it contains no words. It is known as Kali Pothi, or The Black Book. It was
written by a frail old woman at the request of the profound philosopher and mystic Osho Rajneesh (1931–1990).
In an open field in Muchala Mahavir in Ranakpur, in the lap of the Aravalli hills in Rajasthan, a spiritual camp
was held from 3 to 8 June 1964. Osho Rajneesh gave his discourses, and he was accompanied by a woman who was around 70 years old. She was a sadhu. Wearing a white saree, unlettered and unknown to the world, Bhuribai sat with him and listened to his discourses. When meditation started, she retreated to a room and refused to participate in it. The few people who were with her were perplexed. She laughed and said that Osho would understand. When asked, Osho smiled too. He said she cannot meditate because that would imply ‘doing’. She is permanently in a meditative state, so she cannot ‘do’ it.

Bhuribai and Osho understood the silence, but the seekers were confused. They wanted words. Osho requested
her to write words of wisdom, and she promised to bring her book to his next camp. In the next spiritual discourse, an elaborately packed book was brought to the gathering. It was kept in a chest that was locked. Osho was given the key. He opened the chest and found a 3-by-2-inch booklet of 10 or 15 pages. Each page was completely stained with black ink.

Bai said that since she was illiterate, she didn’t know when to stop. So, she ‘wrote and wrote’. She filled every
page. Osho said to the people, ‘This is real scripture. This is the scripture of scriptures.’ She wrote what she knew best—silence.  In a village named Sardargarh, around 90 kilometres from the historical city of Udaipur, a girl was born to Rupa Ji and Kesar bai on 9 July 1892. To her family and the community, she was an ordinary girl. At the age of seven or eight, she had some spiritual experiences. The details of these experiences are not known, and she didn’t share them with anyone, even in her later years. Around this time, the land of Sardargarh was blessed with the presence of Sant Swarupdas of Amet. He was a yogi who later withdrew into the Kumbalgarh hills to meditate at a dhuni (sacred fire). His presence had a strong impact on her early life. Her interest was not in the things of the world. Soon, she was 12 and not educated yet. But custom prevailed, and she was married to Fateh Lal Ji, a man much older than her. She left Sardargarh and came to Nathdwara, the temple town of Mewar. 

Literally meaning ‘the door to the Lord’s feet’, Nathdwara is a busy temple town that rests amidst the Aravalli hillocks in the Rajsamand district of Rajasthan. With the historic Kumbalgarh fort and Haldi Ghati surrounding
it, the Shrinathji temple determines and shapes the cultural geography of the place. Fleeing from religious persecution ordered by Aurangzeb (1618–1707) in Vrindavan, the idol of Govardhan was transported secretly in the night by the temple priests. From Vrindavan, they set out to Jodhpur under the leadership of the head priest, Shri Damodar Lal. They did not receive a welcome at Jodhpur and then headed to Mewar, where Maharaja Raj Singh (1629–1680) offered safe haven to the deity. In the town of Sihar, the deity of Shrinathji was installed on 10 March 1672. The town has now expanded and has come to be known as Nathdwara, as it is the door to the feet of God.

The city not only welcomed the deity, but today the rhythms of the life of the people are matched with the deity’s
rhythms of the day. When I reached the city for the first time in 2021, I was struck by people repeatedly asking me
if I had seen the morning shringara. I didn’t know what it meant, and before I could weave a reply, I was told that God had awakened from His afternoon nap. So, we rushed to receive the darshan of the deity. It took me only one day to match my own rhythms to God. The next morning, I walked through the streets chatting with devotees about the deity’s routine. By evening, it was the most natural thing to do—finish your work according to the deity’s routine. Starting with dawn to early evening, the living deity is dressed in time- and season-appropriate clothing. The bhog is prepared accordingly, and ragas are performed according to the time of the day. He awakens with the first light and rests with the last.

This town had protected God. How could it let down Bhuribai, God’s silent servant? I came to this ancient land of spiritual practice looking for the world of a frail-looking old woman named Bhuribai. I met her family members and followers. From them, I learned about her life experiences, and with them I experienced the texture and shape of her teachings.

In Nathdwara, Bai found a life of challenges awaiting her. Her husband had 11 elder brothers who were all married.
Her husband’s first wife had died, leaving behind five children. Bhuribai was only 11 years old at this time, and she didn’t understand the complexities of married life and domestic setup. Things became more difficult as her husband
soon contracted a lifelong illness. From a young age, she demonstrated the silent power of service. Without a word of complaint or fatigue, she saw her life as the grace of God and continued to serve her husband. He was kind to her, and he appreciated her devotion. In his mind’s eye, he knew what his wife really wanted. He always thought of her as a sadhu. 

Sometimes, when exhausted with marital responsibilities, she visited her parental home in Sardargarh to regain
strength. Here, she would have time for herself, and her spirit would long for guidance. Here, she would have the
opportunity to observe and talk to wandering yogis, one of whom taught her Bhastrika Pranayama, a specific kind
of yogic breathing technique. This breathwork is aimed at deepening concentration. Her home also gifted her a
meeting with a fellow woman seeker. Her name was Noori Bai; she was a Sufi yogini. At this time, Bai was only 15 years old. She longed to meet an elder sister in whom she could confide the struggles of her soul. She found a fellow woman seeker in Noori Bai, and she shared her gnawing desire to walk out of worldly life. Noori Bai said that all was God’s will and He knows best. She advised her to avoid getting pregnant at all costs. She also said that her troubles would be over soon and she would be able to walk her path. At a young age, the presence of an elder sister who is walking the same path can be the greatest gift. God sent her this gift, and Bhuribai returned to her husband’s home. This time, she had more confidence and clarity.

She had learned Bhastrika Pranayama, and she started practising it. This was the first step in a long journey that
awaited her. As she remembered the words of Noori Bai, her faith in God became stronger. She had never complained to anyone and believed in dharma or moral duty. She served her husband with complete devotion for 10 years. As was the traditional practice in Mewar, Rajasthan, she would eat from his leftover meals. She wasn’t interested much in food and trained her body to survive with little food. The yogic practices of breath management and austere diet helped the young woman prepare her body for the strict spiritual practices she was to undertake later in life.

After 10 years, Fateh Lal Ji was on his deathbed. He was in a state of gratitude for the love and devotion he had
received from his wife. As he was counting his last breaths, Bai asked her husband for instructions for her future life. He remarked that she possessed such outstanding moral certitude and forbearance that she was already a sadhu. He asked her to follow her dreams, for he knew she desired the life of a sadhu.

Extracted from Daughters of Meerabai by Namrata Chaturvedi, published by Rupa Publications.