THE year 2001 was a turning point for me in many ways. I was presented with a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to attend the Maha Kumbha Mela in Allahabad, India.
I recall boarding the flight from Durban to New Delhi, not knowing what to expect. I grew up hearing many stories of the festivities from my dad, who had previously been to the Mela in 1989 with our guru (spiritual teacher). Fortunately, I was accompanying my dad, who was experienced in this situation. Being a third-year university student at the time, my need to enquire, learn and explore was great.
Maha Kumbha Mela, which translates as “the great festival of the urn”, occurs every 12 years, with the exact date determined by astrological calculations.
Kumbha Melas are observed every four years - with the “maha” (greatest) festival being observed in a 12-year cycle. The festival dates back to the beginning of creation.
The Puranas state that during a scuffle between the devas (demigods) and the asuras (demons) over a pot of immortal nectar, four drops of the nectar spilled in different parts of northern India. Since that time pilgrims have gathered to bathe in the holy waters at these places, including the confluence of the rivers Ganges, Yamuna, and subterranean Saraswati.
In preparation for the festival, the banks of the river spring up with tents, creating a temporary 6000-acre town known as Kumbha Nagar.
I laugh as I remember that I did not know that police restrict vehicle access to campsites in the town, and I had packed a trolley bag with essentials for my three-night stay. Our transport from New Delhi to Allahabad was an express overnight train. We selected a two-tier compartment with air conditioning - a luxury when travelling by train.
Although I had travelled to India many times before, this was my first experience on an overnight express. We got off the train in the early hours of the hazy morning and were grateful to find a bicycle rickshaw, and the driver earnestly peddled his way through to the Kumbha Nagar boom gate, the furtherest point reachable by any mode of transport.
I tugged on my trolley bag, wheeling it with great difficulty as people pushed their way around me on the sand banks of the holy rivers. We walked among sadhus (holy men), naga babas (naked men smeared with ash), politicians and their supporters, yogis from the Himalaya mountains, and millions of ordinary pilgrims.
None seemed intimidated by the strange looks from foreigners; nor did they shy away from happy snappers. Everyone continued their journey with a purpose, searching for a place for meditation or rest. It was certainly not a tourist spot - to be there within the crowd, treading on the soil of the banks of the river Ganges - and although the temperature was cool, the humidity was high.
Loudhailers from each camp became even more distinct as the hours passed. It was an experience for all the senses to relish, certainly not for the faint hearted.
I took in the sights and sounds, watching as tribes of holy men and women chanted mantras as they walked through the pathways, children clinging to their parents, yogis holding tridents or standing on their heads. As we were not fluent in Hindi, it took us a while to reach the ISKCON (International Society for Krishna Consciousness) camp at which we were booked.
Whenever I think of the moment I entered the camp, I still feel my body shiver as my heart was filled with joy at experiencing familiarity. A wood-carved ox-cart of the ISKCON padayatra on which a deity of Srila Prabhupada (the founder-acharya of ISKCON) stood at the entrance to welcome camp residents and passers-by alike. This welcome perfectly culminated the long journey to get to our camp.
The day passed and at night we took a walk along the many, many lanes - taking in the various hymns, mantras - the aroma of food preparation emerging from the different camping sites. It was really an amazing site, walking around - just being present at the world’s greatest festival.
The next morning saw all pilgrims make a steady approach to take a dip in the holy rivers. This was the exact time calculated through astrology - the most auspicious time to take to the waters.
On that particular morning, the triven sangam (three-river meeting point) was the most sought after destination in the world, as the Mela is billed as the largest human gathering in the world.
Every person in Allahabad was on a mission - walking in the same direction - with speed and purpose. There was no time for small talk, or even to look around at our surroundings. This was the reason for our austerity, our purpose and mission - and the time was now!
After about an hour of walking on the river bank (of course we had no map, neither did we know the exact direction) we followed the hustle and bustle of the millions who had converged. As I took my first step into the river, the cool waters offered relief; as I went in deeper (sari clad), everything became worthwhile. In deep prayer and gratitude - time stood still, as I delved into the confluence.
My dad was fortunate enough to go back to Allahabad for the next Maha Kumbha Mela, that took place in 2013. This time my mum accompanied him and got the opportunity to experience the magic that only the Mela can offer.
With the next Maha Kumbha Mela taking place in 2025, this year marks the Ardh Kumbha Mela (half-way mark to the next maha mela) when millions will converge to experience spiritual fulfilment at the confluence. Something that remains of high importance on my “wish list” is to offer my daughters this magical experience.
They have heard my story, and with divine blessing I will take then along for the next Maha Mela in six years time. I have travelled to many cities around the world, tasted various cuisine, experienced different cultures and enjoyed every single journey. However, nothing compares with this austere, humbling experience at the Kumbha Mela where the real meaning and purpose of life is felt - a deep-rooted connection to the soul.
* Krsangi Radhe Dasi is an educator, public relations practitioner, entrepreneur and motivational speaker. Visit her blog: prabashneenaidoo.wordpress.com
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