One of the highlights is the presence of the thirteen akharas, representing various Hindu monastic orders believed to possess immense spiritual power. The Kinnar Akhara represents the transgender community. The spectacle of naked, ash-covered dread-locked Naga Akharas commands the crowd’ s attention. These hermitic, holy men who have renounced all worldly possessions. I am told of the aghoris, sensationalized for their extreme ascetic practices involving the use of human skulls as utensils and the consumption of human flesh in a ritualized manner. Another person chimes in to say that it isn’ t cannibalism but rather their belief that confronting the most feared aspect of life – death and decay – is the pathway to the highest spiritual state.
I intended to experience it all, but planned on drawing a line at bathing in the Ganges, the world’ s most polluted river. Toxic waste, fecal matter, harmful bacteria, sewage. I could never. One day in, and I was headed on a boat at dawn to the Triveni Sangam, the confluence of the holiest rivers – the Ganga, Yamuna, and Saraswati. It took no convincing at all for me to dip into the Ganges fourteen times. It is believed that a dip in these sacred rivers washes away the grime of countless lifetimes, breaking the chains of karma and offering moksha, the ultimate liberation from the cycle of birth and rebirth. The water was cold, like an ice bath, and I emerged feeling like a new person. I have no explanation; it was wild beyond imagination.
Aparté
What everyone says about India? I get it. A shock to the system.
I arrived at a newly opened 15-room boutique hotel, The Kin. A gem. I explored the marigold- and tuberosefilled flower market, ate street-side dosa, accidentally drank tap water( fortunately, I felt fine), slept a solid eight hours, and then prepared to make my way to the opposite of all this: Maha Kumbh Mela.
From January 13 to February 26, 2025, over 400 million people gathered in Prayagraj to witness a cosmic convergence of faith and festivity. This year marked a rare convergence of celestial alignments, making this Kumbh Mela a once-in-144-year event. I couldn’ t wrap my mind around any of these numbers. Incapable of making any sense of all this, I dove headfirst into the intensity of it all.
The days were spent at the Parmarth Niketan ashram, in deep meditation. At sunset, we would descend to the riverbanks for the aarti ceremony, during which snake-shaped oil lamps were set ablaze and passed around the chanting crowd. It was shocking to me that nobody’ s hair was set on fire. But then again, I was also shocked to find my shoes among the thousands of pairs taken off during prayer. A gathering of this grandeur, colossal, inconceivable, is maybe only possible in a country like India.
In many ways, India is a place of duality. And yet, there’ s a unifying, magnetic force that for centuries has drawn people from all over.“ You are being called”. And you know better than not to respond to the call of Mother India, the call of the wild.
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