In the sacred tapestry of Indian spirituality, sometimes the most profound experiences emerge not where we expect them, but where divine grace leads us. My journey began at the Mahakumbh 2025 in Prayagraj, that grand celebration emerging from the mythological Samudra Manthan, where the cosmic pot of immortal nectar first appeared. Yet, as with many spiritual quests, the external spectacle served merely as a gateway to deeper revelations.
The Kumbh experience itself was surprisingly subdued from our vantage point in the comfortable tent compound, kilometers away from the teeming crowds at Triveni Sangam. While the masses gathered at the confluence, we found our solace in a quiet corner of Mother Ganges, where the waters whispered ancient wisdom in peaceful solitude. It was as if the river herself was preparing us for what lay ahead in Banaras.
Trailanga Swami- The Walking Shiva of Banaras
Varanasi, the eternal city, revealed itself not through grand gestures but through intimate encounters with its spiritual heritage. Here, I found myself in the presence of Trailanga Swami’s legacy – the walking Shiva of Banaras who graced this earth for an extraordinary 280 years (1607-1887). The morning unfolded with tales of his divine play, as the temple pandit shared with our small gathering a remarkable story of an encounter between the saint and Sri Ramakrishna Paramahansa. The pandit’s words brought to life that sacred moment when Ramakrishna, seeing Trailanga Swami basking nonchalantly on the burning hot sand across the Ganges, walked over and asked, “Who are you?” Trailanga Swami’s simple response – “The same as you” – came with a smile that encapsulated the profound truth of spiritual unity transcending individual identity. (location: google maps link)
The city’s sacred atmosphere deepened through an unexpected communion with Mahadev’s prasad – the traditional bhaang that has been part of Banaras’s spiritual fabric for millennia. We got a lump of bhaang from a government shop and had a strong glass of the Banrasi thandai from the main chowk. After this, a boatman took us across the river, and on the other side, we walked and walked into the distance on the Ganga bank.
We found ourselves seated before a profound scene: the remnants of last night’s bonfire before us, a man lying still as a corpse nearby, and the sprawling city beyond – a perfect living metaphor for the meditation that was happening by itself. The urban cacophony faded into a profound silence, broken only by the occasional sharing of an insight or a ripple of laughter. Few sentences that stay with me:
“There’s no ego in this conversation”
“Even if this is 0.0001% of Trailanga Swamy’s experience, we’re extremely grateful for the experience”
I am not the one who usually advocates for a substance and this is probably my 3rd experiment with a potent substance. But in the true spirit of an aghori (the one with no aversions), if one is to try a substance, it should flow naturally and it shouldn’t become a repetitive pleasure seeking device.
The experience lasted for quite some time, probably till 8pm. I also had a couple of work calls to be taken in parallel and it was amazing how the conversation would be super focused and after the task was done, it was easy to zoom out swiftly and rest in the vast awareness again.
Next day- Lahiri Mahasaya and Ramana Maharshi
The divine orchestration continued into the next dawn when I woke up at 4.30am (without an alarm!) and heard Nochur Swami’s talk on “Knowledge is the cremation ground” – particularly significant as it was through Nochur Ji that Ramana Maharshi’s teachings became vibrantly alive for me. After two hours of communion with the ghats, Lahiri Mahasaya’s samadhi beckoned (location). Though under renovation, the temple opened its doors, revealing not just the sacred space of the great Kriya Yoga master, but also an unexpected blessing – a picture of Ramana Maharshi, my guru, whose presence sanctified the entire journey.
In retrospect, the Mahakumbh served not as the culmination but as the initiation of a deeper pilgrimage. The true Kumbh – the pot of divine nectar – wasn’t in the grand celebrations at Prayagraj but in the inner experiences that unfolded through the grace of Banaras’s saints and the eternal flow of Ma Ganga. Every step, every encounter, every moment of silence revealed itself as divinely guided, leading to that ultimate truth that exists beyond the realm of words and thoughts.
As I write these words from the Brown Bread Bakery in Banaras, I’m reminded that spiritual journeys often lead us not where we plan to go, but where we need to be. The external Kumbh opened the door to the Kumbh within, where the true nectar of immortality – the recognition of our eternal nature – always resides.
Om Arunachala. Om Namoh Bhagwate Shri Ramanaya.
