A Path of Commitment
Reflections on Diksha Mahotsav experiences
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, a complete renunciation of one’s attachments to possessions and 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 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 full-scale 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 the unyielding faith needed to live that rigorous but uniquely fulfilling life, this experience led to the realization that I did not consider Diksha to be as much of a potential path in life as I wanted it to be… and that fact was one I was uncomfortable with.
Recently, a former Pathshala teacher of mine shared the following quote by Rumi, a Sufi poet:
Why do you stay in prison when the door is so wide open?
Taking Diksha is not trivial — but it is not a choice one needs to make at a particular time or age. Each Diksharthi’s calling to Saiyam Jeevan happens under different circumstances, and others may be more inclined to practice Jainism as laypeople. By not giving this path the mindspace I personally believe it deserves, however, I was locking myself into the prison of this worldly life without the opportunity for escape.
Ultimately, my most significant takeaway from this experience was undoubtedly a renewed desire to, one day, be blessed enough to experience my own calling to Diksha and begin on the only path to true happiness. So, while the prison door remains closed, at least it is now unlocked. While the power to push it open is currently out of reach, I know it exists within me, and I am hopeful to one day have my epiphany — my calling to Saiyam Jeevan — that motivates me to wield it. — Harshita Jain
Awe.
In November of 2016, my family and I traveled to India for my aunt, Amishiben Shah’s, Diksha Mahotsav.
I had never attended a Diksha Mahotsav before but had grown up learning about them at home and in Pathshala. When I found out that Amishi Foi, someone who I had grown up with, was taking Diksha, I was excited. But more than anything, I was curious.
In her mid-50s at the time, Amishi Foi lived a normal life in Chicago working as a lab technician. Her faith in Jainism was always very strong; she frequently visited the local temple (JSMC), participated in regular Pujas, Pathshala, and Swadhyay, and volunteered. To me, she lived a fairly routine life of going to work and spending time with family and friends.
One day, however, she had an epiphany. After listening to a lecture by Acharya Yashovijayji Maharaj Saheb, she decided that her goal in this life was to take Diksha.
For someone who had lived in Chicago for over 25 years, taking Diksha was a big change. It required preparation and permission, so Amishi Foi moved to Surat, Gujarat, leaving behind all her belongings in the United States. She practiced Tap, increased her understanding of Jainism, and even shadowed Maharaj Sahebs to ensure she was ready for Diksha. After a few months of her new routine in India, she, along with her family, approached Acharya Yashovijayji Maharaj Saheb and asked for permission to take Diksha. The Acharya gave his blessings, the Diksha Muharat was set, and the preparations began.
Back home in Chicago, my excitement started to build — I didn’t know what to expect, but I was confident that this was going to be a special experience.
Upon arriving in India, I learned that a Diksha Mahotsav is made up of many events and Vidhis. I attended throughout, but one Vidhi stuck with me in particular: the Ogho Grahan, where she was presented with a small broom of woolen threads that Sadhus and Sadhvis carry to clear insects when they sit/walk. This was where Amishi Foi officially went from a Shravika to a Sadhviji.
During this Vidhi, everybody cleared the main stage, leaving the focus on the Acharya and his disciples with the Diksharthi standing nearby. The audience came to a silence, and the Acharya started reciting the Sutra. As my eyes wandered, I saw Amishi Foi with her palms wide open and a sense of excitement on her face. As she anxiously waited for the Ogho, I grew curious; what was going to happen? What was the Acharya reciting that made her so happy? As I closely listened, I heard the Maharaj Saheb say (in Gujarati) “the time has now arrived.” Amishiben took a few steps forward, her hands still open, and the Acharya dropped the Ogho into her hands. Without hesitation, Amishi Foi raised it above her head and started jumping up and down, dancing in circles all around the stage. At this point, she was no longer the Amishi Foi I had grown up knowing — she was a Sadhviji, Arhamkrupa Shriji. As she came to a stop and bowed down to the idol on the stage, I could see tears in her eyes. I was awestruck; never before had I seen anyone so fulfilled and content. This was her purpose in life.
As I returned home, I thought back to how easily Amishi Foi made the life-altering decision of taking Diksha. She was able to just… do it. Maybe she thought about it a few times, but leading up to the ceremony and during the Diksha Mahotsav, I saw the confidence in her thoughts, words, and actions — once she committed, she never wavered. Additionally, the way one “dances joyously” upon receiving the Ogho is something I had only read about, but I didn’t really know what it meant until I saw her dancing — a physical representation of her pure joy. I wondered if I would ever experience that joy, and what I was missing in my understanding of myself, and life.
Looking back, I am forever grateful to have witnessed this once-in-a-lifetime event. To see a close family member, who lived a large portion of her life in the United States, understand what their purpose was in life, confidently leave their routine life behind, and commit to taking the path to meet their goal was an unforgettable experience. — Satej
Collective Takeaways
- Maharaj Sahebs possess a unmatchable kind of happiness, contentment, and dedication. When we find it difficult to understand how detachment towards belongings and relationships could benefit us, we can look to these figures as a living embodiment of the true joy that can only be unlocked by practicing that same detachment.
- To be in a Diksharthi’s presence is to share space with an incredibly special and blessed soul — make every effort to attend a Diksha Mahotsav if you are given the chance.
- Some experiences can be had only in India. Visit if you ever have the opportunity, and ask your parents and relatives if you can visit an Upashray and speak to a Maharaj Saheb. If you are worried about a language barrier, several younger Maharaj Sahebs do speak English! If they are not accessible to you, see if someone can serve as a translator.
- There are many ways to strengthen your connection to Jainism and to the soul! Start by purposefully pursuing spiritual progress: seek a Guru, learn about Jain principles, and apply those principles in your day-to-day life. Remember, Jainism is about doing the best you can today, and working to do better tomorrow.
If anything in this article has offended you or gone against the teachings of Bhagwän Mahävir, we sincerely ask for forgiveness. Michhami Dukkadam!
