ShinsungHwa: The Visualization of Neem Karoli Baba’s Spiritual Energy (2020)
What is Shinsunwa?
Shinsunwa is a unique form of spiritual art where drawings emerge through spontaneous, flowing movements. Artists tap into their subject’s energy and let Qi(氣) guide their hands, creating geometric patterns that serve as a universal language.
Commentary on a ShinsungHwa: Neem Karoli Baba
This piece is the second ShinsungHwa I’ve created in watercolor gouache, following my earlier work on Ramakrishna.
Here, the “symbol of light” emerges from Neem Karoli Baba’s spiritual core, radiating outward in a way that feels both steady and luminous. His presence seems to suffuse the painting, taking the form of a halo-like mandorla that extends across the entire composition. Within the surface of the painting, distinct energy patterns appear, each carrying its own quiet rhythm.
I chose not to enlarge the paper or expand the frame, even though the symbols felt poised to spill beyond the edges—hinting at something larger than what the boundaries can hold. My hope is that viewers will sit with these patterns and sense, in their own way, the energy and openness that gave rise to the work.
Quote
“Love all, serve all, feed all.”
“You can plan for a hundred years. But you don’t know what will happen the next moment.”
“If you cannot love each other, you cannot achieve your goal.”
“Cleanse the mirror of your heart, and you will see God.”
“Love is the strongest medicine. It is more powerful than electricity.”
“I don’t want anything. I exist only to serve others.”
“Whoever works for God, his work will be done by itself.”
“Total truth is necessary. You must live by what you say.”
The Early Path
In the hills of northern India, near the town of Nainital, lived a man who looked, at first glance, like anyone else. He sat on the ground, wrapped in a plain blanket, speaking little. People called him Neem Karoli Baba, or simply “Maharaj-ji,” a name of affection and respect.
Born around 1900 in Akbarpur, Uttar Pradesh, he was given the name Lakshmi Narayan Sharma. Little is known for sure about his early life. Unlike saints with carefully recorded biographies, his story traveled mostly by word of mouth—passed along by villagers, travelers, and later, Western visitors. Yet no matter the version, the picture remained the same: a quiet man who seemed to sense people’s needs before they spoke.
The Man in the Blanket
Most photos show him in his wool blanket—round face, eyes both soft and piercing. He didn’t build great institutions or deliver long sermons. Instead, people remembered the small moments: a blessing for a child, a kind word, a handful of food shared. Many said he could look right through them, past their worries and confusion, to what truly mattered.
He wasn’t a preacher in the usual sense. His words were short, almost childlike: “Love everyone. Serve everyone. Remember God.” Simple as they were, they stayed with people.
Temples and Wanderings
Though he never sought recognition, Baba was linked to many temples in northern India, especially in Uttarakhand and Uttar Pradesh. Dedicated to deities like Hanuman, Shiva, and Durga, they weren’t monuments of grandeur but places for villagers to gather, pray, and find peace.
Stories also tell of his wanderings—like the time he was asked to leave a train for not having a ticket, only to appear in another carriage moments later. His name, “Neem Karoli,” is said to come from that very village. Such tales gave his life both humor and a touch of mystery.
When the West Came Calling
In the 1960s and ’70s, young Western seekers came to India, drawn by its promise of wisdom and meaning. Among them was Richard Alpert, a Harvard psychologist who had worked with Timothy Leary in LSD research. His meeting with Neem Karoli Baba changed everything. Alpert became Ram Dass, whose book Be Here Now carried Baba’s presence far beyond India.
Others followed—musicians like Krishna Das, who later introduced Indian devotional music to Western audiences. Even Steve Jobs and Mark Zuckerberg made their way to Baba’s temple at Kainchi Dham. Somehow, this quiet Indian saint became a touchstone for both Silicon Valley pioneers and spiritual seekers around the world.
A Simple Teaching
What was it that drew them in? His teaching wasn’t complex. No systems, no rituals. Just a few steady themes: feed the hungry, love without condition, remember God’s name.
In an age of endless ideas and philosophies, his simplicity felt like fresh air. He didn’t ask people to abandon their families or backgrounds. He encouraged them to live ordinary lives with kindness and devotion.
Many tell stories of miracles—healing the sick, knowing the future, reading minds. Whether taken as literal truth or as the vivid memories of touched hearts, these tales remain part of his legacy.
Of course, most stories come from his devotees, and skeptics remind us that oral histories can shift over time. Some miracles are hard to prove. In many ways, Baba became a canvas for people’s own spiritual hopes. Still, even with doubts, the impact of his presence is undeniable.
A Death That Opened Doors
Neem Karoli Baba passed away in 1973, in Vrindavan. For many, his death only spread his presence further. His ashram at Kainchi Dham became a pilgrimage site, and each year on June 15th, thousands gather there to celebrate. To his devotees, Maharaj-ji never really left.
So why does a man who wrote no books and gave so few words still touch lives worldwide? Perhaps because his message was disarmingly plain:
Love. Serve. Remember.
No elaborate rituals. No heavy philosophy. Just a life lived with kindness. His teaching reaches beyond religion or culture. You don’t have to be Hindu—or even Indian—to understand the value of feeding the hungry or caring for your neighbor.
At the same time, his presence carries that spark of mystery—that sense that life might be larger than it appears. Whether saint, wise man, or simply a compassionate elder, Neem Karoli Baba’s story nudges us to ask what it means to live well.
Today, books, films, and memoirs keep his memory alive. Ram Dass’s Be Here Now is still passed from hand to hand. Chants sung in his ashram echo in Western concert halls. His temples, especially Kainchi Dham, continue to welcome pilgrims. And quietly, in living rooms and on screens, stories of the “man in the blanket” are told again.
