The conversations, accusations, debates and discussions on the events surrounding the Mahakumbh echoes from the Indian Parliament to news channels. Water tests are being brandished around, the water is clean, the water has fecal bacteria in it, claims and counter claims. Hours of social media bytes, heated opinions from those who may not even have visited this gathering.
And then oblivious to this and despite it the silent influx of millions of simple folks from the villages and towns of India making their way to Prayagraj. They come by train, busses, trucks, tractor trollies, in shared tempo travellers and jeeps, they bike and walk, they come alone or with their families often the elderly with a single focus to take the dip at the prayag and take the blessings of the sadhus. An event that has come after 144 years and none of us alive will see the next one in this life.
My own sojourn at Prayagraj.
I had personally been at the Ardh Kumbh at this very same Prayagraj in 2019. Invited by an akhara to share the practice of Hamsa Yoga. I was reluctant, not wanting to enter the domains of mandaleshwars and mahamandaleshwars and pithadheeswars. But when I asked my Guru he said, “Of course you must go. How many people get an opportunity such as this?” So go I did. I was pleasantly surprised by the warm welcome and even more so when they offered me prime location to hold my sessions right in front of the Pithadheeshwars tent. I was there for three days. They offered me a personal tent and invited me to stay for the next few months, as the crowds were slowly increasing and expected to swell in the coming days. But I realised that this was not my area of comfort. I am more used to having personal and up close connection with the people I share my Guru’s practice with. 
I took a dip at the prayag, the experience is indescribable. One is not prepared for the swift underpull of the Saraswati. Externally the Ganga and the Yamuna flow very passively here but the moment you let yourself down from the side of the platform your feet literally go side ways. The boatman kept advising me to hold on tight. “Pakad ke rakhiye,” he kept repeating. Once again the exhilaration of the immersion is only felt by those who take it with full openness. Not as an Instagrammable moment. After that I took a dip in the Ganga and the Yamuna alternatively everyday I was there, once at midnight under a full moon. I returned with a sense of some shift having occurred in my being.
Immersion at Kashi
Throwback to Kashi in 2011, I would take a boat every morning and find a relatively less populated ghat to get off the boat and meditate immersed in the river. One such ghat was Gai Ghat or Nandi Ghat closely associated with my Guru in this life and the other was Chausathi Ghat connected with my past Guru.
I would sit immersed in Ma Ganga in the early morning hours. The meditation was a dissolving in the loving energy of the sacred river and often as I sat thus, I would see huge mound of rubbish floating down the river in front of me with a few water birds perched on them and bobbing along. Not once did I feel the water was unclean. And this is what all the detractors and supporters forget that for the yogi devotee the river is always sacred, no matter what floats on it.
I remember this put very succinctly in the book Seven Sacred Rivers by Bill Aitken. He writes, and I’m just recalling the memory of my reading, that during one of his early visits to India he accompanied his friend in Allahabad to the prayag in the foggy morning hour of 5am. His shock was apparent when his friend a native from the city had pulled off his kurta, ran and plunged into the river. Bill saw cans and bottles and other stuff floating on it. As he hesitated, his friend looked at him and said, ” It’s ok Bill. The river is clean, it’s only the rubbish in it.” According to Bill, at this curious explanation he had taken off his clothes and plunged into the river in a daring act. He goes on to say that how he believes that because of this one leap of faith he felt while many of his western friends succumbed to cholera and other water borne disease, some lost their lives and others had to go back, Bill remained in India for 30 years more following his passion of motorcycling his way following the source to the mouth of seven sacred rivers of this land.
What they don’t Get
And this is what the detractors do not get. That besides the physical river there is a sacred Pran that connects the millions who come take the dip. No matter someone dies, no matter someone is sick, the sacredness of the river is sacrosanct. No matter the cost to their health, the hardships they may face, this is an event of their lifetime. So what should we do? Should we not question the authorities? Should we not demand better facilities? Cleaner rivers? Of course we must but we must also keep in mind that this immersion is far beyond that. The time decided by an ancient knowledge of astronomy, the perfect alignment of stars, rooted in the civilisation of this land, driven by a force of devotion, dovetails into a gathering of gigantic proportions, this is unstoppable.
The Prayag within
Of course for the advanced yogi practitioner the prayag is elsewhere. Carried within their own body the yogi takes a dip at will in the agnya chakra in the true prayag of the Ida, Pingala and the Sushumna. While the external razzmatazz continues the yogi stays still in the prayag within.
I use the word yogi as gender neutral like actor, so please don’t get your pants in a twist. Also I couldn’t increase the size of the photos so please bear with that.
Circumstances had made it impossible to realise this heartfelt desire earlier but this year being free from many responsibilities I undertook this pilgrimage.
Live free yoga 