The Nearest Sangam

Following our strenuous walk of over 25 kilometers the previous day, every muscle in our legs resisted further movement. We opted to rest today—at least, that was the intention.

After breakfast, we decided to slow down. The Sangam nearest our camp was still three kilometers away, and the prospect of another lengthy hike didn’t seem doable. I begged my husband, Bobby, to find an e-rickshaw to save me from the anguish of walking. Most other guests had joined guided tours and were readily picked up outside their tents. We did, however, venture beyond the tent city gates in search of a ride.

Finding a Guide

We soon spotted an e-rickshaw driver, but his fare was tantamount to extortion. I had no patience for the exaggerated ‘tourist price’ game and refused to participate. As we were about to give up and start walking, a young man approached us. “I can give you a ride on my motorcycle,” he told us. My name is Vikas, and I’m a local guide. He approached us with genuine interest as we tried to figure out the best way to get to Sangam. Then he inquired, “What are you doing today?”

Bobby responded, “We just want to reach the nearest Sangam without crossing the bridge, take a quick dip, and then return to our tent.”

Vikas lifted his eyebrow. “That’s it?” he inquired, evidently unimpressed. With a knowing smile, he leaned in slightly. “Have you seen where the sadhus, the revered ascetics, live? Have you witnessed their procession? Have you encountered the spiritual energy at the Sangam, the meeting point of the Ganges, Yamuna, and Saraswati rivers, the site of discovering the Maha Kumbh?”

Bobby and I exchanged glances, and I whispered, “OK, I want to do this. I came here hoping to gain as much experience as possible. I do not mind if my legs hurt; I want to do it.”

We told Vikas that we tried, but the region was rather large. To prevent getting lost, we stuck to the main paths and usually observed people coming and taking a dip.

Vikas laughed and shook his head. “You’ve just begun,” he said. “The true Maha Kumbh isn’t just at the Sangam; it’s found in the sadhus’ camps and quiet places of worship where time seems to have stopped for hundreds of years. That’s where the energy of this place stands out.”

His words made us curious. The day before, we had been moving through a large crowd, trying to see and understand everything around us. Amid everything, we didn’t realize that we had overlooked the true essence of the festival—the areas where spiritual people and seekers came together for their special ceremonies, away from the busy swimming spots.

Noticing our uncertainty, Vikas smiled. “I can take you. I promise no long walks.” Then he made us an offer we couldn’t refuse. I will take you on my motorcycle as your guide for a modest fee. You’ll be able to see the sadhus in person, receive their blessings, see the parade, and take a holy bath without walking an additional 25 kilometers. To clarify, this was neither a lie nor the truth. We couldn’t take the motorcycle across the bridge and still walked over 25 kilometers that day! No regrets. We saw what we came here for.

We glanced at each other, exhausted from the day before but energized by the thought. We had come to experience Maha Kumbh beyond the surface and Sangam.

“You got a deal,” Bobby replied to Vikas. And with that, we climbed on the back of his motorcycle to the first stop. Not far from where we started, we had to leave the bike before crossing the bridge. Then, we walked into the heart of Kumbh. Our “rest” day took a surprising turn!

Among the Sadhus, Blessed by Sadhus

Vikas guided us through the busy streets, skillfully dodging crowds of worshippers until we reached where the naga sadhus, the respected ascetics covered in ash, had set up their camps.

The mood changed suddenly. We felt like we had entered a different world, one in which time didn’t matter and the line between the physical and spiritual had faded.

As we strolled around their neighborhood, we sensed a strong feeling of commitment and long-standing traditions. Chants filled the air, moving up and down like an old hymn. The aroma of incense and the earthy scent of wood fires enveloped us like a strong fragrance.

All around me, people were moving—bare-chested monks wearing rudraksha beads, covered in ash, deep in their meditation and prayers.

Others danced joyfully to the beat of the drums, caught up in the music, their tangled hair moving around.

Sadhus sat with their legs crossed in their blankets, looking thoughtful with their eyes staring at you.

Some stayed still, like statues, as if they had moved beyond worldly distractions. Others interacted with the pilgrims, asking for blessings, mumbling prayers, touching their foreheads, or just nodding to show they were listening.

As I walked by, many sadhus looked at me with interest, possibly wondering why I, a stranger to them, was there. There was no anger, just acceptance. They approached me, waved at me to come to them, marked my face with holy ash, sprayed me with blessed water, and spoke words of blessing. A warm sense of calm and connection washed over me as if I were part of something ancient and timeless.

Each sadhu showed their spiritual practice uniquely and fascinatingly. One sat still with his arm raised, showing off his years of deep thought. His arm was slender and feeble, and his fingers curved like a rigid claw.

Another group gathered around a fire, taking heavy puffs from clay pipes, breathing out thick clouds of marijuana smoke, their eyes glassy but calm.

A sadhu with a large, messy beard wore a live bird on his head. His intense stare seemed to extend beyond as the crowd watched him closely.

Another, more eccentric, delivered blessings unconventionally—by striking devotees on their backs with their bare hands, each thwack followed by murmurs of gratitude from the recipient. He invited me to offer that blessing, but I declined, fearing a slap. He smiled and said, Come here. And there I was, receiving a blessing!

And my husband!

Beyond the naga, sadhus were religious leaders from various sects—Sikhs in vibrant turbans, Vaishnav ascetics with tilak markings on their foreheads, and countless others—all united in their pursuit of divine connection.

As I moved through this sea of devotion, I realized that the Maha Kumbh Mela was more than just a gathering; it was a living, breathing entity pulsating with the collective faith of millions.

It felt surreal. These men had renounced the material world and given up all earthly ties to pursue spiritual liberation. And here I was, a complete outsider, walking freely among them, absorbing their presence, feeling their energy.

Although I was among what seemed like ten million people, I felt grounded in this space, surrounded by holy men. It was as if, for a brief moment, I belonged. I inhaled deeply, immersing myself in this place’s sounds, smells, and energy. This wasn’t just an event but an experience that would stay with me forever.

We moved through the large crowd of millions of people from all over India with different backgrounds. Some had just arrived, their flags held high, their eyes shining fiercely. Families tightly clung to each other to ensure no one became lost amidst the crowd. The size of humanity is both impressive and humbling.

Next: A Sacred Dip and a Holy Parade: My Unforgettable Experience at the Maha Kumbh Mela

Author and photo credit: Cristy