Witnessing divinity : My experience at the Mahakumbh

Witnessing divinity : My experience at the Mahakumbh

So much has been written and spoken about 'The Mahakumbh' that I wondered how I could voice my thoughts about it. How does one truly capture the essence of an experience so deeply sacred yet so  personal? The emotions, the sights, the sounds were all so much more than what words could convey. Still, it was difficult to resist writing about my own experience of the Teerth Snaan at the Triveni Sangam in Prayag Raj.
The Kumbh Mela is one of the world’s largest spiritual gatherings, a place where millions of Hindus  come together every 12 years to bathe in the sacred waters and seek salvation or Moksha.
However it was not until my friend Komal said, "A normal Kumbh happens every 12 years, but this is the Mahakumbh—the one that comes only once in 144 years," that I realized the enormity of this phenomenon. The weight of those words hit me hard, and it dawned on me that I couldn’t miss something so extraordinary, an experience that would certainly  never come again in my lifetime.
With Komal by my side, I embarked on this journey, unaware of just how intense it would be. Our first stop was Varanasi, where we visited Baba Vishwanathji at the Kashi Vishwanath Temple. It is believed that the darshan of Baba Vishwanathji before taking a holy dip at the Triveni Sangam adds to the auspiciousness of the experience. After the darshan, we set off for Prayag Raj by road. A journey that would normally have taken  about three hours turned into an eight-hour ride due to heavy traffic, but my anticipation kept me going.
Despite the long travel instead of taking rest we decided to leave for the Triveni Sangam for taking  the Teerth Snaan.
The winter air was cool and inviting, and the sight of the riverbanks teeming with people added to the excitement. As we reached our designated point opposite the fort, from where we had to take a boat to the Sangam, the evening sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the river. The waters sparkled invitingly, and the whole scene felt magical. In that moment, I was overwhelmed with a deep sense of gratitude, grateful for this chance to experience such a moment, to feel so deeply connected to our culture, heritage, and the divine.
Standing by the river, the energy around me was palpable. The Ganga, Yamuna, and the mythical Saraswati—coming together at the Triveni Sangam—have been revered for centuries, and the air seemed to hum with spiritual power.
Without hesitation, I waded into the cool, welcoming waters. It was ice cold but the moment my feet touched the river, I felt an overwhelming wave of peace wash over me. The weariness from the journey melted away, and it felt as though my soul was being cleansed. It wasn't just a physical refreshment; it was a deep, spiritual renewal. With each dip I found myself praying and remembering family, friends, well wishers.
I also found myself  laughing like a gleeful child splashing around in the water, feeling carefree and at peace as the worries of everyday life seemed to float away. The holy waters held a power that words couldn't fully describe.
As Komal completed her pooja, I felt a great sense of connection to something greater than myself. The Sangam, where the three sacred rivers meet, is not only a physical meeting point but a place of immense spiritual significance. People from across the globe gather here to purify their souls, and in that moment, I could feel the significance of centuries of devotion.
What captivated me even more than the beauty of the place was the collective energy of the people around me—all seeking blessings, purification, and a deeper connection with the divine. The unity, the devotion, the sense of purpose in the air was tangible.
I watched the sun dip below the horizon, its golden hues reflecting in the water. Everything—the sky, the river, the people—seemed to come together in perfect harmony. It felt as though the universe had conspired to bring me to this sacred moment, where everything aligned, and peace filled my heart.
We collected Gangajal (holy water) from the river and the holy soil from the river basin for our loved ones. It was a simple act, but one that felt deeply profound—a way to share a part of this sacred experience with those we hold dear but had been unable to come due to various compulsions.
That night, we took a walk along the tent city. The scene was nothing short of magical. Pilgrims, some wearing expensive shoes, others walking barefoot, moved with determination toward the river. There were families with infants, elderly people with walking sticks, and young children running ahead—all united in their journey to the holy waters. It was a beautiful sight, a reminder of the blessing we had witnessed and they were wanting to witness or had witnessed.
The atmosphere was peaceful, despite the crowds. People were praying, laughing, talking, and simply soaking in the moment. There was an underlying calmness, a serenity that transcended the busyness of the place.
The next morning we chose a different ghat and that experience was more ethereal with the rising sun. The priests with Chandan teeka or the chaiwallah from whom we had local tea added to the rustic charm.
The Mahakumbh wasn't just about any customary ritual dip in the river; it was about the collective experience, the energy, the sacredness of the moment, and the connection between sea of Hindu humanity and the divine. It was a journey which highlighted the magnanimity of a philosophy which we refer to as a ‘way of life’. Maybe that is what gave all of us the strength to be a miniscule part of this experience which surged into largest human congregation.
As we left the tent city, I knew this experience would stay with me forever. The Mahakumbh is not something you just witness; it fills your heart with awe, gratitude,wonder & deeper respect for the cosmic order akin to a mother embracing her child. No wonder I kept repeating " Ganga maiyaa ki Jai"...