IN MEMORIUM
Dr. Bhagwan Awatramani

A few weeks ago, I received a call from one of Bhagwan’s closest students.

In tears, she reported that Bhagwan passed away that morning from respiratory distress while in India. Bhagwan’s family issued an announcement:

“Bhagwan Awatramani transcended into Maha Samadhi on January 14th, 2025. This sacred day coincided with the auspicious Maha Kumbh, a rare occurrence that happens once every 144 years, and Makar Sankranti, marking the sun’s journey towards the northern hemisphere.
“Maha Samadhi represents the conscious exit of a spiritual master from their physical body, achieving liberation from the cycle of birth and death and merging with the divine and eternal bliss.”
Bhagwan once told me he would never retire, preferring to work until his last breath, and that’s what happened. My friend, Sherrill, was in the middle of a phone session when his respiratory condition became acute.
“I was the last person to have a phone session with him,” Sherrill recounted. “He couldn’t talk and could barely breathe. And at one point, I said, Bhagwan, I think you have pneumonia. And he said, ‘Yeah, it could be.’ He was completely nonplussed and unidentified. He never said I need to take a break from this session. There was a complete acceptance of what was happening at that moment.”
“The next day, he was gone, and we just wept,” Sherrill continued. “It was such a pivotal moment. I really feel it was his time. There was nothing more he could teach. It was time for us to embody it ourselves.”
Bhagwan’s son, Gyan shared a moving memory of the funeral pyre:

“As I gently gathered the remnants of my father’s earthly form from the warm, glowing embers, surrounded by the scent of incense sticks and delicate white petals scattered in reverence, a butterfly emerged; it’s wings singed from the tender heat. It was a moment of breathtaking beauty,; one that left me in awe. I couldn’t help but wonder why this fragile creature would be drawn to the ashes as if summoned by some unseen force. And yet, as I stood there, the butterfly alighted upon my fingers, its delicate legs tickling my skin.
“For a few fleeting moments, we shared a connection, the butterfly and I. It lingered, as if paying its respects, before spreading its wings and taking flight, vanishing into the sky like a whispered promise.
“In that instant, I felt a sense of peace settle over me, as if my father’s soul had been carried away on the wings of that brave, beautiful butterfly.”
With gratitude to the mysteries of Life and Death beyond compare. ~ Gyan