At Bhaktivedanta Manor in London, Meghna Siraj experienced “spiritual tears” that set her on a journey into kirtan and sacred sound. She views mantra chanting as a participatory Bhakti Yoga practice that builds inner resilience, shifts people from constant “doing” to simple “being,” and offers authentic connection in a world saturated with wellness trends yet starved of deeper meaning.
In a wellness world crowded with retreats, therapies and recovery tools, wellness advocate and practitioner Meghna Siraj is drawn to one of the oldest ways of finding stillness: sound.
For Siraj, sacred sound is not background music or another relaxation trend. It is a participatory practice rooted in Bhakti Yoga and a way to help people quiet the mind, reconnect with themselves and step away, even briefly, from the constant noise of modern life.
Meghna Siraj (MS): For me, it began in London at Bhaktivedanta Manor, a place that was once the home of George Harrison and is now a spiritual sanctuary. I often describe it as 'heaven on earth.'
At that stage of my life, I had everything that society tells us should make us happy. Yet there was something I was in search of, which I couldn't explain. I was searching, although I wasn't even sure what I was searching for.
When I first arrived at the Manor, I unexpectedly broke down in tears. Not tears of sadness, but spiritual tears. It felt as though a forgotten part of me had finally come home. Something within me felt whole again.
That moment changed everything, without me even knowing it completely. It was a remembrance. It was a calling. And from that day, my journey began and led me to being the chosen one to facilitate kirtan and wellness spaces. It didn't feel like wellness. It felt like coming home.
MS: The gym trains the body. Kirtan trains the mind. One builds physical strength; the other builds inner resilience.
Today, people have access to every form of self-care imaginable, yet many still feel disconnected from themselves. Beneath all the roles, responsibilities, achievements, and identities, there is a deeper self waiting to be heard.
This is where yoga truly comes in. Yoga was never just about physical postures. There is:
Bhakti Yoga — the path of devotion and love
Karma Yoga — the path of selfless service
Jnana Yoga — the path of wisdom
Raja Yoga — the path of meditation and mastery of the mind
Kirtan belongs to Bhakti Yoga.
Mantra chanting is one of the simplest yet most powerful tools available to us. In a fast-paced world, people are craving something authentic—something that reconnects them to their own heart. Sacred sound offers exactly that.
The body craves movement. The soul craves remembrance.
MS: In a kirtan session, people often arrive carrying the weight of their day—their stress, worries, responsibilities, and mental noise. Then something shifts.
Through rhythmic chanting and repetition of sacred names, the nervous system begins to settle. Research suggests that chanting can support vagus nerve stimulation, encourage relaxation responses, and help regulate breathing patterns.
The word mantra itself can be understood as:
Man — mind
Tra — tool or vehicle
A mantra is literally a tool for the mind.
As the chanting deepens, people naturally move from thinking to feeling, from analysing to experiencing. The mind becomes quieter, the heart becomes more present, and people often describe a feeling of peace, clarity, or profound connection. For a moment, they stop striving and simply exist. That is the shift from doing to being.
MS: Calming music can certainly help us relax. Sacred sound does something more.
Mantras are not compositions created for entertainment. They are ancient sound formulas that emerged through deep states of meditation and spiritual realisation. The sages of India experienced these sounds and passed them down through generations. Whether it is Om, Ram, Hare Krishna, or other sacred names, these sounds carry a spiritual intention beyond melody.
Kirtan is not simply about hearing sound; it is about participating in it.
It becomes a bridge between the individual self and a deeper state of awareness.
You don't need to understand Sanskrit. You don't even need to understand the meaning of the words. The sound itself does the work.
MS: Because people are exhausted. Externally, many people are succeeding. Internally, many are struggling.
Sound practices offer something that many modern well-being systems cannot: genuine inner connection. That said, spirituality has also become a trend and, in many cases, a business. There are positives and negatives to that.
For me, intention matters. The essence of these practices is not performance or profit. It is service, transformation, and connection. When sacred practices are offered with sincerity, they have the power to truly impact lives. That's what people are responding to—not another trend, but a deeper longing for meaning.
MS: Honestly, everyone - founders, executives, artists, parents, teenagers, students, and people navigating different phases of their life. Here, everyone is equal.
One of the biggest surprises for me has been the younger generation. They're becoming increasingly curious about their roots and spiritual traditions. We're seeing bhajan evenings included in weddings, sacred ceremonies replacing purely entertainment-focused events, and younger people actively seeking deeper meaning.
There is a growing desire to reconnect—not just with spirituality, but with culture, community, and identity. And I believe that's beautiful.
MS: You don't have to believe in energy/or spirituality to experience the effects of kirtan/sacred sounds. Think about it. A song can make you cry. A song can give you courage. A song can instantly transport you back to a memory. Music reaches us beyond logic. Kirtan works similarly.
The value of mantra chanting isn't dependent on belief. It lies in the experience itself—the repetition, the breath, the focus, the stillness it creates, and the sense of connection it awakens.
You don't need to understand the language. You need to listen, participate, and allow yourself to experience it. Sometimes the heart understands what the mind hasn't yet learned to explain.