From the Ghat to the Heart: Love in the Chaos of MahaKumbh

Let’s be honest—when people talk about romantic trips, they imagine luxury resorts, candlelit dinners, or a beach vacay. So, when my husband and I decided to head to Mahakumbh instead of some romantic cliché, our friends were intrigued. “A pilgrimage? Seriously?” they asked. Someone even joked that it was the best way to lose your wife. Yes, seriously—and spoiler alert—it was one of the best decisions we’ve ever made for our relationship. 

Picture this: millions of people chanting, the smell of incense in the air, and a river bustling with devotion and energy. Not your typical couple’s getaway, right? But that’s the magic of Mahakumbh—it strips away the frills and makes you focus on the real stuff.

The highlight? Taking that holy dip in the Ganges together. Now, I’ll admit, the water was freezing, and we spent the first few seconds squealing like kids. But as the chills subsided, something profound happened. It wasn’t just a ritual; it felt like we were washing away not just “sins” but also petty arguments, grudges, and the stress of everyday life. We came out shivering but somehow lighter—like we’d pressed the reset button on “us.”

And then there was the chaos—the crowd, the noise, the non-stop activity. You’d think it’d be exhausting (and, okay, it was a bit), but navigating it together brought out our teamwork skills like never before. Who knew holding hands so we wouldn’t get lost in the crowd could feel so romantic? Who knew when he asked me to hoodie up in the Rickshaw could be a gesture of love? Who knew when he pulled me aside as the wave of sadhus brushed by could be a moment of emotions?

In between the spiritual talks, prayers, and the magical glow of the evening aartis, we found time to reflect—not just on life but on us. We laughed at how far we’ve come, shared dreams about the future, and even sneaked in a selfie or two amid the throng of pilgrims.

The trip wasn’t about romance in any which way. It was about discovering a deeper connection—a reminder that love isn’t just built in fancy settings. Sometimes, it’s found in shared silences, unspoken support, and plunging into sacred waters together (literally and metaphorically). 

We didn't need an insta worthy dinner under the stars, just a late night trip in the rickshaw to Shastri bridge was enough. We didn't need a private sunset on the beach, the rays of the rising sun on the ghats were enough. We didn't need a Gucci Bag, just the evil eye bracelet we brought back was enough. We didn't need an expensive meal, just sharing the Dominos pizza was enough. We didn't need to dress up to look attractive just the Tilak on the forehead was enough.

So, here’s my second pitch to sell the Mahakumbh to you: if you want a quirky yet transformative couple’s trip, skip the usual romantic ones. Go spiritual. Go Mahakumbh. It’s messy, chaotic, and completely unscripted—just like real love. And trust me, nothing says “I love you” quite like holding hands dodging the devotees. 

Mortals go for Coldplay, Legends go to the Mahakumbh!

They say, when you really want something to happen, the whole universe conspires so that your wish comes true! 

And that is what happened with us! Within 4 days of the thought coming to mind, the determination became stronger and the stars got us there!

The Mahakumbh at Prayagraj is a confluence of faith, spirituality, and a sense of belonging that one cannot truly comprehend without experiencing it firsthand. As someone who had always heard of its grandeur through stories, documentaries, and folklore, I finally decided to attend this once-in-a-lifetime event.

Planning the trip was not without its challenges, but help came when we needed it most. A family member, almost like a godsend, stepped in to help with booking the train tickets and accommodation. We had been struggling to figure it all out, but their guidance made everything smooth. The train we boarded, which had been notorious for running late, surprisingly ran on time that day, almost as if the universe had aligned to make the journey seamless. To add to the serendipity, the accommodation we found was available only for that particular night, fitting the schedule perfectly.

The Vande Bharat takes you from New Delhi station to Prayagraj where the ultimate in holiness unfolds for Hindus. The city well known for the confluence of the 3 rivers - Ganga, Yamuna and the mystical Saraswati is a bustling one. Add to that the lure of the Mahakumbh and multiply it with the extreme Bhakti of Hindus worldwide and you have lakhs thronging all over.

Arriving at the venue of our accommodation, we were greeted by the sight of sprawling camps and beautifully organized accommodation areas. Our tents at the ISCKON camp in tent city were impeccably clean, comfortable, equipped with all the basic amenities one would need for a pleasant stay. It was heartening to see how the authorities had meticulously planned for the comfort of millions of visitors without compromising on cleanliness or order. The hospitality and affection of all the ISKCON volunteers was immaculate and praise worthy.

The highlight of my trip, of course, was taking the holy dip in the Triveni Sangam—the sacred confluence of the Ganga, Yamuna, and the mystical Saraswati rivers. As we walked toward the Sangam Ghat, the chants of "Har Har Gange" filled the air, and an overwhelming sense of peace washed over. The arrangements at the ghats were remarkable. Volunteers ensured a smooth flow of people, and the cleanliness was noteworthy, given the sheer scale of the gathering. We took a boat from the Ghats to the Triveni Sangam to reach the point where the 3 rivers meet. It was like a floating deck created for the holy dip during the Kumbh but well equipped with changing rooms and all possible safety measures. 

From the train station at Praygraj to the sprawling tent city to the multiple bhandara pandals to the Sangam Ghat, the noise of horns blaring, the chants of Sadhus , the lakhs of people speaking at the same time, the loud speakers announcing lost and found doesn't leave you alone. But the moment you enter the icy cold holy  waters, you are left with yourself. 

As I stepped in the arms of the Triveni, time seemed to pause. The holy dip was not just a physical act but a deeply spiritual experience. It felt as though the water carried away not just the dirt of my body but also the burdens of my soul. Standing amidst thousands of devotees, each immersed in their own prayers and meditations, I felt a profound connection to something greater than myself. It was humbling, empowering, and incredibly moving all at once.

Apart from the spiritual experience, the Mahakumbh is also a feast for the senses. The sights of saffron-clad sadhus, the sound of conch shells, the aroma of prasad being distributed, and the colorful bazaars selling everything from rudraksha malas to sacred roli—it was an explosion of culture and devotion. The bhandaras serving food were incredible, offering delicious meals to everyone for free. One day, after enjoying a hearty meal at a bhandara, we even stumbled upon a Domino's food counter—a pleasant surprise amidst the spiritual fervor! The combination of spirituality and organization at such a massive scale was truly awe-inspiring.

As our journey came to an end, I felt a deep sense of gratitude—for the opportunity to be part of this grand spectacle, for the seamless arrangements that made the experience so smooth, and for the spiritual solace I found in the waters of the Sangam. Highly indebted to my uncle who made it possible for us and a huge shout out for the authorities who've made this possible for crores of Indians. The unsung heroes for me were the thousand of policemen, health workers, CRPF, NCC and all volunteers working tirelessly for the cause. From helping with navigation at 10 pm to the right location to sweeping the city clean at 6 am, the ecosystem cannot work without them.

The Mahakumbh is not just an event; it is a celebration of faith and humanity, a reminder of the enduring power of tradition and spirituality. If you ever get a chance to attend, I urge you to go. It’s an experience that stays with you long after you’ve left the riverbank, etched into your soul forever.

Adding some Dos and don'ts for those planning their Maha Kumbh Experience-

1. Book Train Tickets in advance as airfares are soaring high.

2. Please go with confirmed accommodation.

3. Carry face masks if staying in the tent city as it can be dusty.

4. Try to carry backpacks and not suitcases as you might have to haul them over kilometres. 

5. Carry comfortable walking shoes and be prepared to walk atleast 15k steps a day.

6. Most Shivirs/Akharas have food but go prepared with snacks.

7. Most E-rickshaws were not accepting digital payments so make sure you carry multiple currency notes of all denominations.

8. Males can buy and throw swim wear/underpants for their dip at the ghats.

9. Carry all toiletries and sun screen as the sun is mighty and warm.

10. Elderly should be accompanied by a young person willing to carry their stuff and be prepared to walk.

11. Pls steer clear of babas on the roads asking for alms in exchange for blessings.

12. Get your haggling instinct out for negotiations with rickshaw pullers.

13. To avoid the morning rush, visit around 3 pm. Boats stop plying after 445 pm.

P.S The Title is just to grab eyeballs and virality. I have full respect for everyone who went for Coldplay. 

From Looking Up to Looking Down: How Kids Grow, and Parents Shrink!

 

There comes a moment in every parent's life when they realize their kids are no longer the tiny toddlers they once cradled in their arms. It sneaks up on you—one day, you're reaching down to hold their hands, and before you know it, you're craning your neck to meet their gaze. For me, this realization hit hard last year. As 2024 progressed, one of the marked achievements of the year was Me, the Mom Boss in the family being officially declared the shortest member of the family. I've had to accept that I'm no longer the towering authority figure I once was, at least in height. Instead, I find myself quite literally looking up to them, both physically and emotionally.

Growing up in the 80's I always thought that I was in the higher percentile of heights in my generation. I am 162 cms and I pride myself on being the taller ones from Gen X. But enter Gen Alpha where people about 160 cm are also considered short. Now everyone is averaging around 170 cm which makes 160+ seem slightly dwarfy. The first realisation of being short happened when my 14 year old started towering over me 2 years back. I was not able to hug her chest to chest, my head could easily curl up on her shoulder. Enter 2024 and the younger one started pulling up. Till now I felt I still had my little one to hug, hold and bully since she was the shortest. By summers, she was as tall as me. That is when the race began. The race to not being the shortest in the family. Of course, the husband was never in the race. It was a 2 player battle now! Myra would check her height weekly and soon I was officially declared the shortest. 

It started subtly over the years—the time she reached my shoulder height, I chuckled and thought it was cute. But soon enough, she was at eye level. I would stand on tiptoes or wear heels in family photos to avoid looking like the shortest. The day my youngest officially surpassed my height was both amusing and emotional.  And that's when they coined a name for me. I was 'CHOTU' now. And will continue to stay the same forever. Since there is no way I can gain anything now, only inches and kgs nothing on the height scale is moving for me. 

Height isn't just a number; it symbolizes the passage of time. Watching your kids grow taller than you is a tangible reminder of how fast they’re growing up. It’s a bittersweet milestone that marks their journey toward independence and adulthood. And while it can be a little humbling to realize you're no longer the biggest in the family, it's also incredibly rewarding to see them grow into confident, capable individuals.

Being the 'Chotu' in the family has also given me a new perspective on parenting. It’s a reminder that authority and respect aren’t about size. It’s about the bond we share, the lessons we teach, and the love we give. I may be the shortest now, but in their eyes, I’ll always be their parent—the one who stood tall for them when they needed it the most.

Sure, there are practical challenges to being the shortest in the family—like struggling to reach the top shelf or having to ask my kids to grab things for me. But there’s also humor and joy in these moments.  What earlier felt like a shy moment to ask them to reach out to the top shelves of the kitchen is now a moment of pride for me. And while they're lazy to do any chores in the house, they love to grab things that are out of my reach. I get patted on the head and joked, 'Oh, Chotu can't reach there!'

As I look up to my kids now, I realize that I’m proud of the people they’re becoming. And while I may have shrunk in comparison, my love for them continues to grow. After all, parenting isn’t about who stands the tallest—it’s about who stands by your side, no matter what. and this CHOTU is here to stay, no matter what!