Something else I have been contemplating from the satsang is what Gurumayi said about Makara Sankranti and the spirit of this holiday in India. Gurumayi spoke about how on this day, people eat tilgud, sweets made of sesame seeds and jaggery; they fly kites, they play and celebrate and delight in the auspiciousness of the day.
I loved hearing Gurumayi’s description of Makara Sankranti. Glimmers of memory immediately flashed in my mind. The sesame-seed brittle my mom would make, how it stuck to my teeth even as I hungrily reached for more. Children standing on the rooftops of high-rises in Mumbai, shouting with glee as they flew the kites they had made, an extraordinary array of size, shape, and color. Most of all, Gurumayi’s words evoked for me the sense of newness and possibility that I so associate with Makara Sankranti—that ebullient light, the light of the sun. That unencumbered joy, like a stream of golden stars whizzing up to the heavens.
On Makara Sankranti, the scales of this universe seem to tip toward goodness and sweetness because we’ve nudged them that way. People express their love and gratitude for one another. Siddha Yogis come together out of our love for the Guru; we bask in the light of God that the Guru has awakened us to. The veil between heaven and earth feels thinner, more transparent, on this day. The connection between these realms—if they were even so distinct to begin with—feels more fluid.
The image of a young Lord Krishna as Giridhar comes up for me. Krishna protected his whole village from the stormy wrath of Lord Indra, lifting a massive mountain on his finger and holding it up as everyone gathered around him beneath it. Hope is palpable—righteousness seems more achievable—when we are all together like this, ensconced in the protection of God and the Guru.
Each holiday that we celebrate on the Siddha Yoga path has profound and specific meaning. Each holiday has a distinct feeling, bhava, and set of associations. This is what I understood Gurumayi to be teaching when she spoke about Makara Sankranti.
More broadly, what I gathered from Gurumayi’s words is that we always want to be aware of where we are, what we are doing, and why we are doing it. The poet-saints of India would compose entire bhajans and abhangas to express the unique glory of any one day spent in the company of their Guru or chosen deity. I have many memories, for example, of Gurumayi asking senior Siddha Yoga musicians like Shambhavi Christian, Viju Kulkarni, and Lakshmi Wells to sing the abhangaAji Soniyatsa Dinu during darshan and satsang. In this abhanga, the poet-saint Jnaneshvar Maharaj says: “Aji soniyatsa dinu! This day is a golden day!”
Shambhavi, Viju, and Lakshmi are musicians of prodigious skill and accomplishment. They have been offering seva for decades on end, singing in satsangs, darshans, and on Siddha Yoga recordings. Their voices have by now become familiar and beloved to Siddha Yogis the world over. So when any one of them sings an abhanga like Aji Soniyatsa Dinu—whether as a solo or with the rest of the Siddha Yoga music ensemble—it is a sublime treat to hear. You can feel it in their song: the goldenness of the day.
I think we should make a habit of asking ourselves: “What is the energy of this day? What makes this day golden?” We should always strive to equip ourselves with this knowledge, and to be accordingly intentional in how we speak and act.
Wouldn’t you agree? Don’t you think our existence should stand for something special, something meaningful? Shouldn’t we live deliberately?
This morning, I read Eesha’s “Meditation on Gurumayi’s Words” and asked myself, “What makes today a golden day?”
I realized that even though it was still early, I had already had several golden moments: a deep and fulfilling meditation, a nourishing breakfast, and listening to the Aji Soniyatsa Dinuabhanga. As well, I have many golden moments to look forward to: the imminent arrival of two guests and their tiny baby and lunch out with a friend.
It is relentlessly grey and raining here, and up to the point of reading Eesha’s words, I had allowed the rain to color my day and set its tone. Now, it has become a golden day, and this awareness has completely refreshed my mind!
Ripon, United Kingdom
“What is the energy of this day? What makes this day golden?” Eesha’s questions support me in my ongoing contemplation of intentions.
As I’m studying and implementing Gurumayi’s Message for 2026, I have realized that when facing a challenging situation, I regularly consider what my intentions are: to prepare myself, to open to the moment, to be generous, and to bring my best. However, when facing an “ordinary” situation—a meeting or lunch with a friend—I neglect to consider my intentions for these events with the same care. What have I been missing?
As it turns out, a lot! This question “What is the energy of this day?” is exactly what I’ve started posing to myself. What is needed? How can I “polish” this day to bring out its full luster? How can my actions—or just as importantly, my nonactions when I pause, am still, and rest in my own heart—add to the beauty of what is unfolding?
These questions bring me ever closer to the nourishment of the Guru’s grace in my life—every day.
Massachusetts, United States
When I read what Eesha had to say about the abhanga Aji Soniyatsa Dinu by the poet-saint Jnaneshvar Maharaj, I was reminded that I have the Siddha Yoga audio recording of the English rendering of the translation by Shambhavi Christian on a CD called Just Love.
The song on the CD is called “This Day Is a Golden Day,” and I love it so much that I sometimes sing the refrain: “This day is a golden day. I feel that clouds of nectar are showering down on me. I have seen the Lord. This day I have seen my Lord.” And then I add my own made-up verses that are specific to the day. Those verses may be about a family member’s birthday, about what I am seeing in the natural world around me, or about a Siddha Yoga holiday.
As I sing, I feel the sacredness of that particular day and “what makes this day golden.”
California, United States
In resonance with Eesha’s words, I remembered the experience I had yesterday while going to the supermarket for a purchase. After many days of rain, the sun had begun to shine on the city and the sight of a rainbow amazed me.
In the store, the clerk to whom I addressed myself to buy a tank of propane gas was confronted with several tasks and I had to show good humor and patience. When we went outside to get the tank, I exchanged a few words with her about the unexpected spring weather we were having and she replied with a big smile, “Did you see the rainbow?“
At that moment, the rainbow was a splendid arch. It was perfectly echoing the words of Jnaneshvar Maharaj’s abhanga: “This day is a golden day! I have seen the Lord!”
Rodez, France
I really resonated with these words of Eesha’s: “On Makara Sankranti, the scales of this universe seem to tip toward goodness and sweetness because we’ve nudged them that way.” They remind me of my own agency and of the fact that my own efforts to bring “goodness and sweetness” to my world do matter.
In my work as a healthcare provider in a busy clinic, I find that bringing sweetness and thoughtfulness into my surroundings can make a huge difference to a patient who might be stressed or not feeling well. Yesterday I was running behind schedule and my patient was irritated. When I apologized for her having to wait and empathized about it being “no fun to wait,” I saw her begin to relax. When she began to cough and I offered to bring her some water, she expressed gratitude and became friendly. As I walked off to get the water, I distinctly felt Gurumayi’s presence with me.
I felt so grateful for what I’ve learned about how to serve people—from Gurumayi, from her teachings, and from offering seva on the Siddha Yoga path.
