a path of commitment. Harshita Jain, Satej Shah
Redirection. In the November of my senior year of high school, I took a week and a half off from school to attend my cousin’s wedding in India. Between Ghagra alterations and Sangeet choreography, the first few days were a blur. Then, one relaxed afternoon, my relatives and I joined a Varshidan Varghodo in our town, at which a 12-year old Diksharthi was being celebrated. I was no stranger to the idea of Diksha, Neil, my brother (right), had a complete renunthe opportunity to ride on the ciation of one’s carriage with the Diksharthi attachments to (left). Though they had never met before, the Diksharthi possessions and sincerely greeted him. people; several of my relatives had chosen ascetic life. This, however, would be the first time I could witness part of that process. Later that week, I attended another Diksha Mahotsav event. Walking into the open-air venue, I could never have imagined how the night ahead would change my view of the world and of myself. Soon after my family and I sat down, one of the emcees recounted a conversation between the Diksharthi and his Guru, Acharya Jayanand Suri Ji. After having studied under Acharyaji for a few years, the Diksharthi came to the realization that he wanted to become a Maharaj Saheb himself. It is important to note that when a layperson wants to take the vows of asceticism they must ask permission from their Guru, who has the context and wisdom to determine their disciple’s readiness. Initially, Acharyaji had denied the Diksharthi’s request, explaining that he could instead 24
continue with his studies before taking this monumental step, especially given he was fairly young. Though he was dejected, the Diksharthi was equally committed — he felt strongly that Diksha was his life’s calling. Not wanting to postpone the journey any longer, he sincerely and respectfully responded by asking if Acharyaji could guarantee that he would be alive in a few years, or even the next day. At this moment, Acharyaji recognized the immense and pure Bhav that the Diksharthi possessed. Not only did his student want to take Diksha, but he also understood the importance of pursuing monkhood. Acharyaji granted his request and Diksha Mahotsav preparations were begun. While the audience broke out in roaring applause, I remember silently reflecting on this interaction. I was in awe. How could the Diksharthi comprehend the purpose behind this human life at such a young age with so much conviction? And weighing more heavily on my mind and heart: what was stopping me from being able to see and grasp the same? Without answers, I was restless; I wanted more. I also knew that this Diksharthi’s soul was truly blessed and that sitting in his presence and hearing from and about him could hold the key to what I seeked. I asked my parents if we could attend the remaining events and Diksha ceremony after returning home, but given the coinciding dates of the wedding, they explained that it just wouldn’t be possible. It would be through Whatsapp messages that I learned he was given the name Arpan Vijayji Maharaj Saheb and had begun the life he yearned for. And while I was beyond excited for the fullscale celebrations ahead, I left India knowing that I had missed something invaluable. That restlessness, although less intense, still occupied my mindspace. While I was comfortable with the idea of Diksha and was aware of
