Past Life Connection
Why Giriraj Swami?
“His Holiness Giriraj Swami Maharaj is on the way to the temple. Please come.”
It was almost 5:00 p.m. on a soft spring Friday when the WhatsApp message appeared.
I looked up from my phone.
“His Holiness Giriraj Swami is on the way to the temple,” I said to Gokulananda and our five-year-old daughter. “Should we go greet him?”
“Sure. Why not?”
It was late afternoon. We were home. Nothing urgent. Nothing planned. We drove over.
We stood in the parking lot singing kirtan when Maharaj arrived. Before I could process anything, Raseshvari dropped flat onto the pavement — full dandavat pranam.
Five years old.
I remember thinking she was being respectful—I didn’t expect the full dandavat.
We followed Maharaj to the pushpa samadhi of H.H. Tamal Krishna Goswami Maharaj. In the video from that afternoon, three children stand near him. Raseshvari is to his left.
He looks down.
He pats her head.
He climbs the steps.
It is a small gesture.
At the time, I thought nothing of it.
I think everything of it now.
As everyone began walking around the samadhi, she made sure she was directly behind him.
That evening she made him a card — hearts, tilak, careful lettering: “Dear Giriraj Swami, I love you. Hare Krishna.” She gave it to her gurukul teacher to deliver. Later, we heard that Maharaj had appreciated it.
In the months that followed, whenever I mentioned a temple program — a class, a kirtan, a festival — she asked only one question:
“Is Giriraj Swami going to be there?”
At Sadhu Sanga she stood in line just to say hello.
One Sunday, when I called to say he was signing books, she shrieked so loudly I had to pull the phone away from my ear. I watched her run across the parking lot, braids flying, yelling, “We have to see GIRIRAAAAAAAAAJ!”
Inside, he was about to sit behind his table. When he saw her, he stopped and came back around so she could approach him directly.
They stood smiling at one another.
She was missing her front teeth.
He was radiant in saffron.
The delight was mutual.
In August 2023, at six-and-a-half years old, she made him another handmade card, pouring herself into every word.
“If you so desire, please be my Gurudev.”
I was shocked.
She was six-and-a-half years old — and completely certain.
That same year, she wrote a book for a class project. In the “About the Author” section, it read:
She has asked him for initiation several times. He carefully avoids the formal answer. But when she asked if she could call him Guru Maharaj, he said yes.
When he is around, she becomes someone else. My restless chatterbox sits cross-legged at the front of the class, eyes fixed on him, not moving. She chants japa in his quarters in complete stillness.
No fidgeting.
No whispering.
No theatrics.
Just presence.
I did not teach her that.
All I have done is show up — drive her to the temple, take her to japa sessions, buy the books, help her send emails.
She does the rest.
People have asked me for years, “Why Giriraj Swami? What is it about him? Why does she like him the best?”
As if this were a preference.
As if she sampled options and chose.
It wasn’t a decision.
There is nothing logical about it.
Śrī Caitanya-caritāmṛta says:
brahmāṇḍa bhramite kona bhāgyavān jīva
guru-kṛṣṇa-prasāde pāya bhakti-latā-bīja
— Caitanya-caritāmṛta, Madhya 19.151
“Out of millions of wandering souls, one fortunate living entity receives the seed of devotional service by the mercy of Krishna and the spiritual master.”
And:
lava-mātra sādhu-saṅge sarva-siddhi haya
— Caitanya-caritāmṛta, Madhya 22.54
“Even a moment’s association with a pure devotee brings all perfection.”
A lava is one-eleventh of a second.
How long does it take to touch a child’s head?
Over the years I have watched the reciprocation.
She brings him a garland.
He gives her one.
She writes him a card.
He responds.
She offers affection without calculation.
He notices.
And every time, something in me settles deeper.
I feel a deep, quiet relief.
Her heart has attached itself to a pure devotee.
What more could I possibly ask for?
prasaṅgam ajaraṁ pāśam
ātmanaḥ kavayo viduḥ
sa eva sādhuṣu kṛto
mokṣa-dvāram apāvṛtam
— Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam 3.25.20
“Every learned man knows very well that attachment for the material is the greatest entanglement of the spirit soul. But that same attachment, when applied to the self-realized devotees, opens the door of liberation.”
I do not know how long this relationship has existed.
I only know that it did not begin in a parking lot on a Friday afternoon.
That was not an introduction.
It was a reunion.
