It had been 16 years since I\u2019d last set foot in India. Back then, it was a holiday with my soon-to-be wife. We stayed in Varanasi, where I was captivated by the burning ghats and sunset boat rides along the Ganges. At the time, I still identified as an atheist \u2014 so I didn\u2019t explore the temples and ashrams I now feel drawn to. But looking back, the trip was still deeply spiritual in its own quiet way.<\/p>\n
I\u2019ve always been an Indophile at heart. I feel a connection to the country that I can\u2019t fully explain \u2014 it\u2019s just there, rooted somewhere deep. On that earlier trip, we travelled by train across Rajasthan, stopping in Jaipur and Udaipur, then flying from Ahmedabad to Mumbai. We spent a month in Goa, living simply on Palolem Beach, and finally returned to Delhi before flying home. It was an adventure \u2014 full of movement, color, and chaos \u2014 and we backpacked the whole way.<\/p>\n
Coming back in 2023 felt different. I was now a husband, a father of two boys, and travelling alone. This wasn\u2019t a holiday \u2014 it was a pilgrimage. In the years since, I\u2019d become more cautious, more grounded \u2014 and I had found my guru: Neem Karoli Baba, known to many simply as Maharajji.<\/p>\n
This time, my path was clear. I was there to visit Kainchi Dham and the Vrindavan Ashram, in honour of the 50th anniversary of Maharajji\u2019s mahasamadhi on September 11, 1973.<\/p>\n
I arrived in Nainital around the 3rd of September, and every morning I would catch the bus down to Kainchi Dham. That first descent was unforgettable \u2014 a winding road through the mountains, and suddenly, in the valley below, the familiar red and yellow rooftops of the ashram sparkled in the sunlight like a vision I had always known. A local told me \u201cKainchi\u201d means \u201cscissors,\u201d referring to the sharp turns and switchbacks of the road that leads to the village. Whether that\u2019s true or not, it felt fitting.<\/p>\n
I felt inexplicable joy being there. I sang the Hanuman Chalisa. I prayed. I sat in silence. I was given delicious prasad \u2014 something fried, maybe chickpeas or lentils \u2014 always offered generously by hand each time I left. I spent many peaceful hours inside the ashram.<\/p>\n
From what I could tell, I was the only Westerner there. The locals were incredibly welcoming \u2014 some even interviewed me for their YouTube channels, astonished that a foreigner could chant the Hanuman Chalisa from memory. They saw it as a beautiful expression of devotion and were visibly proud that someone from far away loved their culture enough to embrace it so deeply.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t want to leave. But the journey called me onward to Vrindavan, where Maharajji had left his body. I stayed in a hotel right next to the ashram and again spent several sacred days chanting, praying, meditating.<\/p>\n
On September 11th, from what I could gather, I was again the only Westerner present at the ashram. I felt immense gratitude and privilege. I don\u2019t have the words to explain why this moved me so deeply \u2014 but it did.<\/p>\n
That pilgrimage transformed me. My life has been richer, clearer, and more heart-led ever since. And I cannot wait to return.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It had been 16 years since I\u2019d last set foot in India. Back then, it was a holiday with my soon-to-be wife. We stayed in Varanasi, where I was captivated by the burning ghats and sunset boat rides along the Ganges. At the time, I still identified as an atheist \u2014 so I didn\u2019t explore […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":45,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-41","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-english"],"yoast_head":"\n