A Sacred Calling: My Journey to the Kumbh Mela

When my soul sister Dr. Harbeen Arora Rai , first mentioned the #G100 Women's Summit at the Kumbh Mela last September, I was immediately drawn in by the sheer subject of the event. I never thought I would be part of the biggest gathering or my spiritual journey,

Kumbh Mela is one of the most sacred Hindu pilgrimages. It takes place four times in twelve years and rotates between four cities: Prayagraj, Haridwar, Ujjain, and Nashik. This year, it is Mahakumbh, after 12 Purna Kumbh -that means 12X12 =144 years, and it is in Prayagraj, where the Ganges, Yamuna, and the mystical Saraswati merge at the Triveni Sangam. It is said that during specific astrological alignments during this time, the waters of these sacred rivers are infused with divine energy. A dip in the holy waters at this time is believed to cleanse lifetimes of karma and awaken the soul to higher consciousness.

The origins of Kumbh Mela trace back to ancient Hindu mythology, to the legendary Samudra Manthan—the great churning of the ocean by gods and demons in search of Amrit, the nectar of immortality. As the celestial battle unfolded, drops of Amrit fell upon four sacred sites—Prayagraj, Haridwar, Nashik, and Ujjain. This is why, for centuries, millions have gathered at these holy confluences, drawn by an inner calling to experience the timeless energy of Kumbh.

After months of watching the news and videos, it has become a secret excitement that I will also be part of. I felt the pull of the sacred, my heart longed to witness this grand confluence of faith, devotion, and energy. As my usual practice, I had to be grounded, thinking if I was destined, I would attend.

Yet, as always, concerns arose around me—questions about travelling alone, safety, and logistics. But I shut out the noise. When the universe calls, one must listen. I knew some friends from Chennai were also attending, but strangely, unlike my usual nature, I didn't reach out to discuss plans. I let destiny lead the way.

As fate would have it, my flight was delayed, while theirs arrived early. Yet, we landed at the same time. The moment I switched on my phone, the first message I received was that the taxi arranged by the organising team for me had been cancelled due to traffic congestion. I called my friend Raj, who had also landed simultaneously. We found each other and, along with a few others, managed to squeeze into a two taxi. The taxi driver kept increasing the rates every 10 minutes. We cannot blame him because that's how the traffic was.

The journey was slow, the roads packed with seekers, sadhus, and pilgrims. I had assumed we would be dropped right at Parmarth Niketan's gates, but about 4-5 kilometres before the ashram, the driver informed us that vehicles could go no further. With our bags in tow, we began to walk. The road was rough, uneven, and crowded, but an unseen force propelled us forward. Just 800 meters before our destination, we were fortunate enough to find an e-rickshaw that took two of us to the ashram. The moment I stepped inside, I felt as if I had entered a different realm—one of peace, devotion, and overwhelming gratitude.

The hospitality was beyond words—fresh, hot food, warm welcomes, and people from all across the country, each carrying their own spiritual journey. That evening, we prepared for a boat ride to the Triveni Sangam, where the sacred rivers—Ganga, Yamuna, and the mystical Saraswati—merge. I had packed a small bag, trusting my friend Ram to carry it, but we lost track of each other in the bustling chaos. As a result, I had nothing with me, and for the first time, a feeling of unease crept in. Holding my little ball in my hand, I had to keep telling myself there is a plan for you, too, and I decided to be in the present. The gentle breeze plays with their wings and our hair. I lean back on the boat, taking in the vastness around me. The New Yamuna Bridge stretches across the sky, cutting through the blue sky. Birds rise, circle, and spin above our boats, scanning for little food scraps. The moment feels endless, drifting between the sky and the river.

Reaching the riverbank was an adventure in itself. Hundreds of boats were docked, each vying for space. Boatmen pushed and pulled, trying to navigate through the frenzy. The uncertainty of it all made me anxious, and I decided not to take a dip that day. When I returned, my friends noticed my disappointment, and Priya assured me that she had arranged for a private boat the next morning. And we need to start very early. A lot of discussions were around me about the temperature of the water.

As I lay in bed that night, I wondered how cold the water would be at dawn. I chose not to dwell on it. Instead, I surrendered to the moment.

At 4 AM, I was ready. The sky was still dark, yet the banks were alive with people. I had expected a quiet, empty river, but the Sangam was brimming with pilgrims. My companions decided not to take the dip, leaving me and my Little Goddess, Bala—whom I always carry—to experience this sacred moment alone.

Navigating the boats once again, we finally reached the Sangam. The water, surprisingly, was not as deep or cold as I had feared. I stepped in, let the sacred current embrace me, and surrendered. The moment I submerged myself, time ceased to exist. The river took away everything—the noise, the thoughts, the burdens. I was empty, yet completely whole. It was as if I had dissolved into the flow of the cosmos. There were no emotions, no fears, no attachments—just the sacred rhythm of the river carrying me into its eternal embrace.

I wished I had stayed longer, taken more dips, and let myself dissolve a little more. But the moment had already gifted me something beyond words. I stepped back onto the boat, my soul washed clean, my heart brimming with something divine.

As we sailed back, the sun's first golden rays kissed the horizon, painting the sky in shades of saffron. The river shimmered, mirroring the glow of a new beginning. I felt lighter, blessed, and reborn.

Life is fascinating, and it is the ability to move our thoughts from one phase to another. Hunger crept in, and I moved with friends. We wandered through the streets, sipping chai, relishing hot pakoras, and absorbing the spirit of the Mela.

The rest of the day flowed effortlessly—sharing, speaking at the Women's Summit, connecting with kindred souls, and witnessing faith's beauty in its purest form. Met new energies, exchanging smiles. I could witness silence in everyone around me. My topic was taking risks, and it's a favourite subject. It's a fear of the unknown. I have always taken risks, and some have backfired. Now I don't keep thinking about whether it was right or wrong; I was supposed to; it was my journey. It has groomed me, grounded me and shaped my life . And It was a beautiful space to talk about it. When Mansi, a girl who is always bubbling with energy and has the power to play with words, was taken to her surprise, and when I asked her back the question about the formula of her energy, she was taken aback, and she enjoyed that surprise. I felt delighted to step down from the stage with Harbeen's newly published Book "108 Sakthi Sutras."

When it was time to leave, we were warned that no taxis would be available due to the rush. So we decided to leave early for the Airport; at 3 AM, we made our way to the Airport, some in a car, others on scooters. By 5 AM, we had reached the Airport, and our flights were in the late afternoon.

Long waiting hours. As I sat in the waiting lounge, looking back at this incredible journey, I felt only gratitude. I answered the call. I had walked the path. I had immersed myself in something far greater than me.

Kumbh is not just an event—it is a soul's awakening, a remembrance of something ancient yet eternal. This was not just a journey in this lifetime; it was a calling from lifetimes past. My gratitude to Sister Harbeen and Vinayji for this beautiful gift for life.

The next Maha Kumbh at Prayagraj will occur in 2037, and being part of this Mahakumbh is a real blessing—a once-in-a-several-lifetime opportunity.