The Dimensions of Mohanji

The Dimensions of Mohanji

By Charles Ndifon Londi

Meeting Mohanji 28 years ago.

The figure floated on the ethers near the ceiling, scintillating with light. It was as if I was seeing or watching this strange apparition with my naked eyes. That was in the summer of 1992.

The events that ran up to the aforementioned were uncalculated, unplanned, and followed a tortuous route. I had wanted to seek closeness with God, The ALL IS, The True Reality, or the Supreme Consciousness, and hide under its wings from the vicissitudes of life that were buffeting me like an evil storm. So I joined Ma Cecile’s charismatic prayer group even though not a Catholic at all. She was a devout Catholic, very prayerful, kind-hearted, and simple, but was hated by the local parish priest who termed her an emissary of the devil probably because her devoutness, purity, truthfulness, and dedication attracted so many people to her prayer group that produced many miracles that were the talk of the day in the small town where I worked as a very young teacher. 

I wanted to be like Ma Cecile and always wiggled myself near her in hopes to be touched by the power of the Holy Spirit (Master Power) that descended on her at each prayer session and had her shaking violently like a leaf in a typhoon. I accompanied Ma Cecile once for a 3-4 days retreat to holy grounds where Mary, Mother of Jesus, was said to have appeared. We swam in the muddy and slimy waters of the swamp on the holy ground, ate the mud there that was believed to relieve one of all afflictions, and we were expected to walk on knees with a heavy cross to the top of a hill that had an effigy of Jesus nailed on the cross. What self-mortification! What excruciating pain with bruises all over! Many people gave up halfway as it was not easy to reach the top of the hill that had a cross with Jesus’s effigy nailed to it. I did not make it too. 

Ma Cecile made it to the top of the hill with a heavy wooden cross each time she came for the retreat as attested by everyone who knew her. This particular retreat was to be crowned with a 9-day novena in honour of Archangel St. Michael after each person had returned to their homes. No meat was to be eaten in the interval, and everyone was to maintain inner and outer purity in all affairs while devoutly reciting a special prayer to St. Michael on each of the nine days making a total of nine different prayers. I lived in the same town as Ma Cecile, so had the additional advantage of drinking only ‘holy water’ blessed by her during general evening prayer sessions. Then each individual returned home to do his special prayer to St. Michael for the day at the hour he/she had fixed. I went through my 9-day novena hitch-free, ending my prayers to Archangel Michael before midnight on the 9th day. After that, I did other prayers and read a little till about 1:30 am. Then I went to bed, but it was not easy falling asleep. In the twilight zone between wakefulness and sleep, when one is still very conscious, something abnormal happened.

Yes, I had prayed to St. Michael for nine days for help and protection in my life, but I did not harbour the thought of a visitation by him. I just had the inner conviction that I had done my part, and it was left to St. Michael to complete it.

”Hey, who is this being enveloped by bright light hovering in my bedroom?”, I asked myself. ”Is this St. Michael, and if so why isn’t he a Whiteman as shown in photos. And where are his giant wings and long spear used to pierce the devil?”, I mused. The being floating up there was dark in complexion, had long black flowing curly hair, a black beard, and a black moustache that stood in sharp contrast to the images painted of Archangel St. Michael. Then the being started gliding towards my bed. I wasn’t frightened, but I developed goose pimples from head to toe as he floated and sat on the bed sill. He asked me, ”Do you believe you can be saved?” I answered, ”Yes, by the grace of God.” Then he asked again, ”Where do you feel pain?” I was dumbfounded and for want of something to say, so I just pointed at my thigh saying, ”Here.” The magnificent being then used his hand and struck me on the thigh three times and vanished. 

I had forgotten about my vision with the ethereal being upon meeting Brahmarishi Mohanji, but some time ago, upon looking at his photo and contemplating it, it suddenly burst upon me, like sunshine from behind the dark clouds, that this is the being who had appeared to me 28 years ago and struck my thigh three times and disappeared. I think when the time is propitious, the meeting between a Master and his student is inevitable in any lifetime, and a span of even 50 years before the meeting is just a moment.

He has all the features of that night visitor that I have not been able to associate with all the other Masters I have come across. Worthy of note is that he is a Living Master in the flesh, and has taken on the onerous task of gathering his students/children, breaking their patterns and bindings that have glued them to the deceptive matrix of Maya in creation for eons, and taking them back into the resplendent light of the self-subsisting Supreme Absolute, THE ALL THAT EVER IS. Thanks for seeking me out, thanks for the connection.

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