I had always read about it in books, heard stories in talks, and imagined what it might feel like:
Receiving siddha-pranali—the revelation of one’s eternal identity in Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa’s divine play.

And then it happened…

My Gurudeva, a jewel among Rādhārānī’s maidservants, revealed to me my siddha-deha—my spiritual name, my age, my service, my dress, my residence in Vraja.

A hush fell over my soul. I was shaking. Not physically—but deep inside.
I cried silently sometimes. I couldn’t stop whispering,
“Thank You. Thank You. Thank You.”

It was not a triumphant feeling. It was not, “Now I’ve arrived.”
No—it was more like,
“Oh my Lord… what now?”

Caught Between Two Worlds

The next morning, I woke up as usual.
I got dressed, packed my bag, and went to school.

Yes—school. I’m a teacher. I teach in a secular environment. No robes, no tilaka, no japa-mālā around my neck.
Just me, my students, and a heart full of longing.

As I stood in front of my class, teaching grammar and maths, part of me kept whispering inwardly,
“You are a manjari…”
“You belong to Rādhā…”
“You are not this suit and tie…”

It felt surreal. Beautiful. Humbling.
Like having a secret garden inside my chest, blooming quietly while I smiled and handed out worksheets.

I realized something important:
Receiving siddha-pranali doesn’t change your outer life. It changes how you carry it.

The Smallness After the Gift

Strangely, after the revelation, I didn’t feel elevated.
I felt small.
Smaller than ever before.

I kept thinking:

• “I still chant with effort.”
• “My mind still wanders.”
• “I still react with impatience or pride.”
• “How can someone like me have a siddha-deha?”

And yet, Gurudeva gave it.
Out of pure compassion. Not because I’m ready—but because I need to get ready.

A Sacred Beginning, Not an Arrival

In my romantic imagination, I had sometimes thought that receiving siddha-pranali would unlock a flood of visions and bhāva and sweet absorption.

Instead, I went back to my daily life:
Staff meetings. Parent calls. Sore feet.
And a heart now branded with the name of Rādhā.

The realization slowly came:
Siddha-pranali is not the end of the journey. It is the quiet, serious beginning.
It is like receiving a hand-drawn map to a place you’ve always longed for—but you still have to walk there, one prayerful step at a time.

How to Walk with the Map

I asked myself constantly:

• “What now?”
• “How do I live with this knowledge?”
• “How can I honour my Guru’s gift?”

The answers were whispered gently from within:

• Continue chanting the Holy Name—now with your siddha-svarūpa in mind.
• Don’t show this gift to others. Keep it hidden in your heart, like the gopīs hide their love.
• Let your sādhana be quiet, steady, sincere.
• Let your daily duties become offerings.
• Remember: You are not a rasika-bhakta. You are a sādhaka—with a very long way to go.

Living Two Lives—But Not in Conflict

As a teacher, I cannot speak openly about siddha-pranali or manjari-bhāva.
My environment would not understand. Perhaps even ridicule.

But that is okay.

Because the inner world is not meant for display.
It’s meant for deepening. For nourishing. For silent offering.

Now, when I walk through crowded hallways, when I explain grammar rules, or supervise exams, I often whisper inwardly:
“This is not who I am. My real self is dressed in Vraja-vasī clothes, serving at Rādhārāṇī’s feet.”

That inner connection gives meaning to everything—
even correcting essays and taking attendance.

A Daily Practice, A Daily Prayer

I returned to the basics:

• Nāma-japa, now trying to feel that my siddha-deha is chanting.
• Līlā-smaraṇa, visualizing my Guru-given service gently—not artificially.
• Vaiṣṇava-sevā, knowing that every devotee has their own siddha journey.
• Inner honesty, accepting my faults and praying for progress.

I still fall short.
I still get tired.
I still sometimes forget.

But I also remember.
And every time I remember, I bow inwardly and say:

“O Rādhike, You have placed something unspeakably precious in my hands.
Please help me carry it with reverence, humility, and love.”

A Manjari in the Making

So what now?

Now… I begin again.
With every sunrise, with every lesson I teach, with every mālā I chant.

I walk through my life with a secret flame inside.
I am not a siddha. I am not realized. I am not a knower of rasa.

I am a servant. A learner. A struggler.
But now, I know whom I belong to.

And one day, by Gurudeva’s grace and Rādhārāṇī’s mercy,
this seed will bloom into remembrance.