Journey through Time: Dr. Sri Gurumurthy Guruji and the Evolution of Puttenahalli : A Glimpse into the Past
In the sacred land of Karnataka, where rivers carry the memory of rishis and the soil bears the footsteps of saints, lies a humble village called Kottanagatta, nestled in the Channarayapatna Taluk of Hassan district. This quiet land, rich in spiritual fragrance and ancestral purity, was destined to witness the descent of a divine soul a soul born not merely out of worldly karma, but out of divine intent.
It was a full moon night February 22, 1978, the auspicious day of Shuddha Pournami when the silver light bathed the earth in celestial peace. In the vibrant city of Bengaluru, to the devout couple Sri Nanjappa and Smt. Parvatamma, a child was born not merely into a family, but into a lineage of light.
The moment of birth itself was extraordinary. According to Jyotish (Vedic astrology), five major planets aligned on the same celestial longitude, forming one of the rarest and most auspicious yogas seen in generations. Astrologers were stunned, whispering in awe:
From childhood, the signs were unmistakable. His eyes did not wander to toys or trivial temptations, but remained immersed in stillness. His smile carried silence. His very presence radiated a peace far beyond his years. Even during play, he would pause suddenly, sit in deep thought, and gaze at the sky as if communing with unseen realms.
“Though this child was born into our home, his heart belongs to a divine world. He does not cry like others. His silence speaks more than our words.”
— Mother’s words
The year was 1994. In those days, the southern part of Bangalore, Puttenahalli, today a bustling corner of J.P. Nagar was a completely different world. It was still a quiet village, almost like the edge of a forest. The narrow mud paths echoed with the creak of bullock carts, and instead of skyscrapers, there were open fields of ragi and jowar swaying in the wind. The fragrance of flowers, tulasi, and incense lingered in the air around every simple home.
In this serene setting lived Pujya Sri Gurumurthy Guruji, immersed in a life of devotion. His home was modest: walls of clay, a tiled roof, a small courtyard where plants bloomed. At the very heart of his home stood a Tulasi platform (Tulasi Katte) sacred, simple, and radiant with daily worship. Each morning he lit a lamp there, each evening he placed offerings with deep reverence.
From that day, the boy was no longer just a seeker. He was chosen, blessed, and empowered by the eternal master himself – Mahavatar Babaji.
The Divine Vision :
One quiet evening, as the sun dipped and painted the sky in orange hues, birds returned to their nests. Guruji sat near the Tulasi platform, lit the evening lamp, and closed his eyes in meditation.
At that very moment, a gentle, otherworldly radiance began to spread around the Tulasi plant.
This was no ordinary light it was soft, fragrant like sandalwood, carrying with it a peace that touched the very soul.
From within that radiant glow appeared the divine form of Shirdi Sai Baba.
Seated calmly, draped in white robes, His eyes shone with brilliance—yet filled with a mother’s compassion. Guruji’s heart trembled with bliss. It felt as though decades of devotion had blossomed into this single moment of grace.
It was not just a sound it was an inner call. The meaning was clear:
“Children, come to me. Leave behind doubt, fear, and sorrow. I am here.”
That divine call was not limited to Guruji’s ears it seemed to ripple through the very winds of Puttenahalli, sanctifying the soil, the trees, and the silence of the village.
The Spiritual Transformation of a Village :
In those days, Puttenahalli was still undeveloped, untouched by the city’s noise. But from that evening onward, the place became a seedbed of spirituality.
The mud houses, the quiet fields, the Tulasi platform all bore witness to a cosmic event.
From then on, Guruji became a guiding light for many seekers, spreading Baba’s message, and transforming the once-forgotten village into a sacred space of remembrance.
Thus, that evening in 1994 was not merely a personal vision it became a divine milestone, forever etched into the soul of the land itself.
“On that evening, as I lay in the arms of slumber, a voice resounded within, calling out ‘Malik.’ Suddenly, that enchanting voice awakened me, and before me stood an elderly figure, his grown beard radiating profound wisdom. His very presence reminded me of a great holy power.”
“Clothed in a white shroud that veiled his head, wearing a creased and weathered off-white kurta, he held a Bhiksha bowl in his grasp. The whiteness of his beard and the grace of his demeanor made me think he was a wanderer or a destitute soul. But remembering my mother’s counsel not to engage with strangers, I politely asked him to leave.”
“Though confusion pressed upon me, I found the courage to speak. But the old man raised his hand toward the heavens and said, ‘Malik. Kind child, I recognize your essence but do you recognize mine? Are you not concerned with completing the task left unfinished?’”
“His words ignited a realization within me, hinting that this wanderer was no ordinary man, but a celestial sage. Yet I again asked him to depart. In reply, the old man reassured, ‘Very well. The doors shall open. Malik is the Sovereign.’ With that, he turned to leave.”
“He had barely taken a few steps when he seemed to dissolve into thin air, vanishing before my eyes. A deep distress filled me as I wondered if he had gone hungry. Compassion moved me to rush outside, but no trace of him could be found. How swiftly he had vanished! The mystery of his sudden disappearance stayed with me, like an eternal echo of that encounter.”