The Maha Kumbh Mela Day 1: Immersed in the Sea of Humanity -

The Maha Kumbh Mela Day 1: Immersed in the Sea of Humanity

First Day of the Maha Kumbh Mela

The official first day of the Maha Kumbh Mela began long before dawn. At 4 a.m., the sacred bathing ritual commenced, led by the Naga Sadhus—ash-covered ascetics who emerged in their wild, uninhibited glory, plunging into the icy waters of the Sangam. Waves of other sadhus, priests, and sects followed them, allowing the masses of devotees to enter. But instead of waking in the cold darkness to witness this grand spectacle, we chose to sleep in, saving our energy for the day ahead.

After a modest breakfast, we decided to venture toward the Sangam, the confluence of the Ganges, Yamuna, and the mythical Saraswati River. Our tent was situated approximately 10 kilometers away from the Sangam, but the journey there was far from straightforward. To cross, we had to navigate a makeshift pontoon bridge, a one-kilometer stretch of temporary planks held together above the ever-flowing river. Although it was an engineering marvel, it was also unsettlingly unsteady beneath the weight of the millions of people already there.

The Indian police controlled the crowd with discipline and calm, demonstrating extraordinary efficiency despite the vast throng. Although approximately four million people had assembled on the first day, there was still a sense of order amid the mayhem.

Crossing the Bridge

People arrived in groups at each location, carrying flags from their hometowns. They moved in unison, resembling waves in a sea of faith. Ropes connected many families to ensure no one lost their way among the shifting flows of pilgrims. Others carried their belongings to accompany their ancestors to these sacred rivers.

As an outsider, I attracted much interest and inquiry from those around me. But when I placed my palm over their hearts in respect, warmth replaced hesitance; when I met their eyes with a smile and greeted them with a simple “Ram Ram” or “Har Har Har Mahadev,” they responded with nods, blessings, and smiles that conveyed more than words ever could.

Royal Bath in the Sangam

While wandering through the Sangam area, I was amazed by the Maha Kumbh’s enormous size. Despite my mental preparation, the enormity was beyond my comprehension as I stood in the crowd. Although I am not Hindu, I have come here with an open heart and mind.

By early afternoon, my husband, Bobby, decided to take a dip. Unlike the pilgrims who had come prepared, we did not bring towels or a change of clothes. We didn’t want to return to our tent, so we asked people if there was a place to get a towel. A few people told us to go beyond the Sangam area, where we could find a few vendors. After traveling two kilometers, we eventually found a vendor selling towels and undergarments.

Bobby was ready for his first dip when we returned to the Sangam area. Devotees lined the banks, some deep in prayer, shouting, or just observing the constant influx of people into the hallowed waters. I waited, watching our belongings, and then Bobby emerged with a brilliant face and a blank yet deep expression. I also sensed that unseen thread binding everyone to something massive and ageless.

We spent the rest of the day visiting ashrams, listening to chants and prayers, and savoring free meals on the streets. Seva, the attitude of giving, permeated every aspect of our day.

Night fell, and we were exhausted, ready to return to Tent City. However, they had closed the bridge we had used earlier. Security had created a one-way exit route to prevent stampedes. As the crowd grew, the police imposed tight waves of movement as more pilgrims arrived by train and bus. The cops had us join the throng and head toward the one available bridge for return.

That was the start of the actual trouble.

Desperate to get across, we were all packed tightly, and our bodies crisscrossed. Each of us numbered in the thousands. I held onto Bobby’s hands tightly. He said not to let go. The sheer force of the mob pushing us ahead prevented us from moving forward on our own. At that moment, I felt like a refugee, ensnared and vulnerable to the overwhelming power of the human tide. Though there was no option but to keep on, it was overpowering and scary.

We headed onward, step by step. We had traveled more than 25 kilometers that day, and our legs felt heavy like lead.

When we finally returned to the Tent City, we found our sector and crashed into our tent. We were worn out. Our minds continued to whirl from what we had just experienced, and every muscle in our bodies hurt.