As I look back and bid adieu to this city of moksha—the redemption of faith, fear, and FOMO—my heart is overwhelmed. Or is it emptied? Because I feel stunned…

How do I even explain it? How do I put into words the truth that you can never truly grasp the essence of Mahakumbh unless you have lived in its heart? A city so full of life, a pulsating chaos that is, in its own way, beautifully organized. A city embraced by Maa Ganga, a city that will cease to exist in just a few days, dissolving into nothingness as if it was never there. Yet, for the time it breathes, it has its own streets, its own governance, its own rhythm.

When I began this journey, there was “fear”..of the traffic, of the sheer magnitude of people. And there was FOMO..the fear of missing out, of being the only one in my group who hadn’t experienced it. I almost canceled my trip, but duty called—I had committed to serving at an eye camp. So, after an exhausting 16-hour journey, I finally reached the Kumbh Nagari.
And then, the holy dip at dawn washed away my fatigue.

As I immersed myself in my work and walked through the city, my fear slowly faded. What initially felt overwhelming revealed itself as a harmonious flow. People moved together in waves—old, young, from every corner of the country. Women in sarees and lehengas, men in dhotis and veshtis, some in modern attire. Many carried small bags; for some, those bags held their entire world. Yet, they all walked towards one destination—the Holy Sangam.

Some had been walking for days. Others had the luxury of a two-wheeler or an auto ride. But there was no urgency. I saw happiness, tiredness contentment, and devotion in the eyes of those who had taken the sacred dip.

On my way back from the Sangam, I noticed a frail couple sitting by the roadside, struggling against the moving crowd. A policeman, baton in hand, initially scolded them but then softened, gently asking them to move aside. As I approached, I realized why—both were blind.

I asked them what had brought them into this sea of humanity. The man, gripping an old, tattered bag that held their belongings, responded with quiet pride, “We have come from Bihar for the holy dip.”

I was speechless. How had they made it here?

I offered them some money and asked how they would reach their destination. The woman smiled and simply said, “People help. That’s how we’ve made it this far.”

Hours later, when the crowd had thinned, I returned to check on them. They were gone. And in that moment, I knew—yes, people do help. Because they believe.

I saw a man in a worn-out veshti, limping towards the Sangam. A small packet of flowers in one hand, a tiny brass kalash in the other. His back bore a frayed backpack, his face a quiet determination. He wasn’t from the North—his features, his demeanor, everything suggested he had traveled from far away. And yet, he was here, walking with purpose. What had brought him? How many miles had he covered? As he reached closer to the holy waters, I saw it—the faith that had carried him, the belief that had propelled his tired feet forward. This was for him. ..”His moksha. His worth.”

Now, as I toss and turn in my bed in an elite hotel in Lucknow, I find myself missing my hard bed in the camp. I miss the constant hum of chants in the air. I miss the rhythmic footsteps of pilgrims. I miss the feel of it all.

They say that when you leave Kumbh, you must leave something behind. But without realizing it, I have come back with so much more. ‘Faith “….The unshakable belief of millions in a force that holds them, binds them, carries them. Maybe MOKSHA is not about giving up everything but about surrendering our FEAR and FOMO, trusting that a higher power is guiding us. Maybe “Mahakumbh is not just about devotion—it is about discovering that the power we seek lies within us.”

Sangam and Mahakumbh are not destinations. They are …journeys of self-realization….of discovering what we are capable of, of surrendering to the unknown while knowing we will make it through.

And with that lesson, …Maa Ganga reclaims her city….The Mahakumbh dissolves into time, reminding us that …everything in this world is transient….No matter how much we wish to hold on, we must let go.

——Suvi’s Scribbles