"A Miraculous and Blessed Journey: For Those Who Seek the Divine in Ayodhya, Kashi, and Prayagraj"

The journey began in Lucknow, but my heart was already racing ahead to the sacred lands I was about to visit.

From the moment I set foot in Ayodhya, I was engulfed by a sea of devotees, all driven by unwavering faith. The sheer crowd forced us to take a long detour through the narrow, history-soaked streets of old Ayodhya before we could even join the miles-long queue leading to the grand darshan of Ram Lalla—the child incarnation of Lord Ram.

Hours passed in devotion, anticipation, and reflection. And then, the moment arrived. Standing before Bal Ram at his birthplace, an unexplainable wave of emotion swept over me. The weight of history, the centuries of struggle, and the unbreakable spirit of Hindu resurgence all came alive in that single moment. This was not just a temple; it was a testament to the endurance, resilience, and unwavering faith of millions over 500 years.

From Ayodhya, we embarked on our journey to Kashi, the city that has defied time itself. The roads were choked with pilgrims, taking three times longer than expected, yet the anticipation never faded.

At dawn, I stood at the ghats of the sacred Ganga, witnessing the river shimmer under the golden touch of the rising sun. The sight was surreal—thousands of devotees immersed in the holy waters, some deep in meditation, others seeking liberation through rituals. The air was thick with chants, prayers, and the divine energy of sages, including the elusive Naga Sadhus, absorbed in their sadhana.

A visit to the Sankata Hanuman Temple filled me with a different kind of energy. The temple walls seemed to resonate with the echoes of centuries-old prayers, and I could feel the pulse of devotion vibrating in every soul present.

The night at Kashi Vishwanath temple was another emotional storm. The grandeur of the new corridor, the sight of the Jyotirlinga, and the realization of our ancestors' struggles to reclaim this sacred ground brought tears to my eyes. But a bitter thought lingered—part of the temple still remains occupied. How much longer before the sacred is fully restored to its rightful place?

At Manikarnika Ghat, I confronted the ultimate truth of existence. Watching the flames of countless funeral pyres merge with the night sky, I felt the mystery of Hinduism thicken around me. Life and death coexisted in this ancient place, both equally embraced.

After a soul-stirring time in Kashi, we set off for Prayagraj—the city whose very name had to be reclaimed from history. I felt an immense sense of pride knowing that today, we call it what it was meant to be.

But nothing prepared me for the sight at Prayagraj during the Maha Kumbh. Arriving late at night due to an unusually delayed train, I was greeted by an unbroken stream of humanity. Thousands upon thousands of people, walking tirelessly from stations to the Sangam, where the Ganga, Yamuna, and the invisible Saraswati converge. It was an unending river of devotion, a sight that words cannot do justice to.

At dawn, I reached the Triveni Sangam by boat, taking a holy dip in the confluence that becomes uniquely sacred once in 144 years. As the sacred waters embraced me, a deep sense of gratitude and blessing filled my heart. This was not just a pilgrimage; it was a lifetime’s privilege.

The return journey to Varanasi was long, with yet another train delay. But in the grand scheme of things, what did a few more hours matter? What I had experienced in these sacred lands was far greater than time itself.

This journey was not just about visiting places—it was about feeling the living essence of our civilization, understanding the sacrifices of our ancestors, and strengthening the deep-rooted connection with our spiritual heritage.

I left with a heart full of devotion, eyes filled with unforgettable sights, and a soul that had been touched by the divine. Har Har Mahadev! Jai Shri Ram!.

VAMSI MULA

17 FEB 2025

Article written with the assistance of AI.