An attempt to visit Pancha Kedar and Pancha Badari - Conclusion! Day 15

Day 15: 13/08/2025 – From Sati's Sacrifice to Shuka Muni's Eternal Words: The Final Day's Itinerary 

River Reverence and Sacred Farewells

The morning of 13th August began with a quiet surprise. Sujata and I went to collect water from the Ganga and were struck by the river’s rising levels – swollen from the incessant rains cascading down the mountains and valleys upstream. Nature’s rhythm was palpable, and the Ganga, ever majestic, mirrored the monsoon’s intensity. We bid farewell to Kashi Matha and left the place after Suma took some pics.

   

Guru Parampara at the Kashi Math

Daksha Yagna: An Epoch 

After attending the morning aarti, we had a simple breakfast and checked out of our rooms, setting off toward our next spiritual waypoint: Daksha Yagna Kund. According to legend, this is where Daksha conducted his fateful yagna, leading to Sati’s self-immolation and the ensuing cosmic clash with Shiva. The site is a temple complex, housing shrines dedicated to various deities – each echoing ancient stories and divine energies.

      

        

Shuka Stal: Witness to the First Bhagavat Katha Discourse

From there, we bid farewell to Radha at Haridwar Railway Station and continued toward Shukratal (Shukteerth) – a serene haven where Shuka Muni, son of Sage Vedavyasa, first narrated the Srimad Bhagavat Katha to Raja Parikshit beneath the sacred Akshay Vat tree. This sprawling banyan, believed to be over 5,000 years old, stands as a living witness to spiritual discourse and devotion. The atmosphere was charged with tranquility – ideal for meditation and reflection. Numerous halls and lodging facilities cater to pilgrims attending the seven-day Bhagavat Saptaha, drawing seekers from across India and beyond.

       

Shuka Stal - The Pepal Tree where Srimad Bhagavat was narrated

      

Lord Hanuman in the premises - Lord Krishna with the Sages

     

Shuka Muni & Raja Parikshit - Lord Ganesha 

Ab Dilli Door Nahin

Our journey then turned toward New Delhi, with a lunch halt at Haldiram’s en route. As we approached the capital, Sujata and I indulged in a humble delight – maska buns and ginger tea from a roadside chaiwallah. His coal-fired stove featured an ingenious heat-regulating contraption, a testament to local innovation.

        

            Maska Bun and Ginger Tea     Electric Fan used as a heat-regulating device

We reached the airport well ahead of schedule – around 18:00 for a 21:55 flight. Mukesh, ever dependable, dropped us at Terminal I and helped unload our luggage. We thanked him warmly, reflecting on how seamless this journey had been under his care – especially compared to last year’s experience. The only hiccup was his rain protection for the luggage, which we’ll address next time.

At check-in, we were met with unexpected leniency. The assistant offered to check in our handbags and backpacks, too, despite our collective excess baggage. She didn’t flinch, and we exchanged amused glances, grateful for this quiet blessing.

Security clearance was smooth, but just as I settled into a seat at the gate, I received a call – my wallet had been found. I informed Suma and walked briskly back. The security official returned it intact, thanks to my business card with contact details. After signing the Lost and Found register, I returned, relieved and grateful. I shared the incident with the others, who were amazed at the swift recovery. With UPI handling most transactions, I might not have noticed its absence for hours. Small mercies.

Setting Sail towards Home, Ahoy! 

Dinner followed, and soon we boarded the flight – among the first, as our seats were at the rear. I realized then why the assistant had insisted on checking in our hand baggage: the last few overhead bins were reserved for crew equipment. I shared this insight with the group.

Sleep was fleeting. The captain’s voice signaled descent, and since the rear door wasn’t opened, we were among the last to disembark – ironically, this worked in our favor as our luggage arrived promptly.

Dilip, who had dropped us off at the start of our journey, was waiting. He managed all our bags with ease. We dropped Suma first, then Vidya, followed by Sujata. I reached home at 03:15 on 14th August.

Epilogue: Reflections & Gratitude

This trip to Uttarakhand was challenging – especially for Sujata, on her maiden journey. Despite daily updates, our families remained concerned. Suma and I stayed in constant touch with local contacts, tracking road clearances and landslide alerts. Yet, unsettling social media videos often disrupted our calm.

We missed Badarinath, Kedarnath, and the focal point of our journey – Bansi Narayan Temple. Other sacred sites from the Pancha Kedar and Pancha Badari circuits also remained out of reach. I was particularly keen to witness developments at Bhavishya Badari, but we consoled ourselves with the thought: “There is always a next time.”

Just before I conclude, a brief about each of my travel companions.

Suma Rao – a veteran and a seasoned traveller who has visited almost all the Temples of Ancient importance in India. A retired banker, she has been the cornerstone of our group. She is more a friend than a relative to me and my brother. An aficionado of coffee, naturally, she took it on herself to brew our first cuppa, day in and day out, during our sojourn. This is my third trip with her, and I'm enjoying it. She took off for her next trip to Scandinavia and Iceland just a week after we arrived in Bengaluru. 

Radha Krishna – another seasoned trekker, she has been an inspiration for all our treks. An ex-Headmistress at Kendriya Vidyalaya and the wife of a Serviceman, her travel stories are quite interesting. Being the wife of an Air Force man, she was envied by us for having travelled across many places, out of bounds to us, as civilians.

Vidya Simha – another seasoned traveller and the wife of a Group Captain in our Air Force and retired official with the AG's Office. Oh yes, she too has interesting stories to narrate. 

Both Radha and Vidya left for the Manasarovar and Mount Kailash trip at the end of last month. Great travel companions! 

Sujata Vasant – A retired banker and one of my best friends over the last few decades (since our college days), she was inspired by my blog last year to take up this trip, and one of the key reasons I pestered Suma to take up this trip. A fitness junkie, she enjoyed this trip thoroughly and, to her surprise, found Radha to be connected to both her siblings. 

I couldn't avoid naming these three as 'Teen Deviyan' as they jelled so much during our 15-day trip and were almost inseparable from Day 1.

An Ode to Mukesh

Mukesh, our driver, hails from Bhopal and has been with Arun’s company for five years, operating out of Dehradun. Though not formally educated, he’s deeply committed to his children’s schooling. He questions the logic of exorbitant fees and tuition, believing schools should deliver quality education. His children attend a Christian Mission school, and he’s pleased with their progress. Not a night passed without him chatting to his children. 

Mukesh is cheerful, patient, and meticulous – his vehicle always spotless. He often says, “You must be the master of your vehicle, not the other way around.” I hold him in high regard and would recommend him without hesitation.

Thank you, Mukesh ji.

Acknowledgements

• Arun Joshi: For his stellar logistical support and unmatched network in Chamoli.
• Pt. Shubranshu Joshi: For his guidance at Dev Prayag and as a valuable contact for future journeys to Badarinath.
• My travel companions, especially Sujata, whose resilience and spirit enriched this journey.

Many places from last year’s travelogue haven’t been revisited here, but links to those entries are provided where relevant.

Closing Thoughts

सर्वे जनाः सुखिनो भवन्तु। समस्ताः मंगलानि सन्तु।
ॐ शांति, शांति, शांति॥

Please share your comments in detail – I’d love to acknowledge each one personally.

An attempt to visit Pancha Kedar and Pancha Badari! Day 14.

Day 14: 12/08/2025 – From Ganga’s Whisper to Evening Aarti Flames: A Pilgrimage Through Monsoon and Memory 

Introduction: Setting Foot on Sacred Ground

Traveling through India’s spiritual landscape is an immersion into a kaleidoscopic

traditions, timeless rituals, and profound philosophical teachings. On 12th August, our journey unfolded across four iconic sites – A new Rayara Matha, Bharat Mata Mandir, Saptarishi Ashram, and finally, Har ki Pauri for the Ganga Aarti – in a tapestry woven with rich histories, encounters with rain and humanity, and the resonant spirit of devotion. As raindrops mingled with flickering flames and chant-filled air, the day’s events converged, creating memories that linger like incense long after departure. 

Radiance of Reverence: Arriving at Rayara Matha

The morning air carried a gentle chill, softened by sporadic showers still lingering on the horizon. Our pilgrimage began at Rayara Matha, also known as Shri Raghavendra Swami Matha – a spiritual stronghold that crowns the riverbanks with centuries of devotion, scholarship, and hallowed tradition. The Matha stands not merely as an institution, but as a living tribute to the Dvaita philosophy and the enduring legacy of Shri Raghavendra Swami, whose selfless teachings continue to inspire seekers across the subcontinent.

          

A view of Rayara Matha

Bharat Mata Mandir: An Ode to the Motherland's Soul

The path wound next to the Bharat Mata Mandir – a temple not for deities cast in mythic stone, but for Mother India herself, celebrated as an embodiment of the land’s diversity, struggles, and triumphs. Unlike the typical sanctum, this monument stands as a beacon of unity, nationalism, and cultural heritage. Conceived by Babu Shiv Prasad Gupta and inaugurated by Mahatma Gandhi in 1936, the Bharat Mata Mandir’s walls and halls are suffused with the spirit of freedom, sacrifice, and aspiration.

Approaching the Mandir, my gaze was drawn upwards by its uniquely secular architecture: a striking eight-sided structure free from the trappings of conventional temple iconography. The central chamber housed not a God or Goddess, but a majestic relief map – carved in marble – of the Indian subcontinent. Every major river, mountain, and spiritual site was rendered in stone, inviting all visitors to contemplate the very landscape that embodies the nation’s soul. The temple’s architectural purity – a refusal to depict anthropomorphic forms – evinces a vision that celebrates unity across religious and regional divides.

Wandering through its galleries, I paused before intricate murals depicting freedom fighters, poets, and scientists: an eclectic pantheon of Indian greatness. Panels detail episodes from the Independence movement, echoing the struggles and glories writ large in the nation’s history. The temple’s quiet grandeur instilled a sense of inclusion and belonging – reminding each visitor that the divine is not confined to heaven but present in every grain of native soil and every act of communal service.

Schoolchildren and elders alike gathered for educational tours, their animated chatter bouncing off stone columns. Guides shared stories – not just of the temple’s founding fathers, but of Bharat Mata as a unifying idea that transcends religious or linguistic boundaries. Here, devotion assumed its broadest sense: a patriotic reverence that binds villages and cities, hills and plains, into a living organism of hope and progress.

In Bharat Mata Mandir, I felt not only a connection to India’s mythic past, but also a call to shared stewardship of her future. The temple stands as a testament to the idea that in honoring the land and its people, one honours the divine itself.

             

      

Bharat Mata Mandir

Saptarishi Ashram: Whispered Legends Beneath Ancient Trees

An afternoon mist rolled in as I journeyed next to Saptarishi Ashram, where the present blurs gently into the mythopoeic past. The Ashram’s very name draws from ancient lore: here, on the tranquil banks of the Ganges, it is believed that the seven primordial sages – Saptarishis – performed intense meditation, shaping the moral and cosmic order of the world.

Nudged away from the main bustle of Haridwar, the Ashram offered an oasis of serenity. Venerable banyan trees arched over timeworn courtyards, their aerial roots dangling like veils, cushioning the syllables of sacred hymns from a group of young ascetics seated in rapt attention. The scent of ghee lamps mingled with cool earth, anchoring me in a space where myth, history, and spiritual discipline commingle.

Within the hallowed precincts, the Ashram’s daily life unfolded according to a rhythm that echoed ancient times. Vedic chanting, yoga sessions, and scriptural study were interwoven with acts of service – feeding travelers, maintaining riverbanks, and mentoring orphaned children. The educational role of Saptarishi Ashram radiates outward, preserving time-honored philosophies while equipping new generations with compassion and resilience.

   

Our stomachs growling for food, we then proceeded to Rayara Matha for our Theerta Prasada, and had a brief rest, post lunch, before leaving for the much-awaited Ganga Aarti. 

Har ki Pauri: Where Earth and Sky Embrace in Ganga Aarti

Twilight beckoned as I pressed on to Har ki Pauri – the revered ghat along the Ganges, the very heart of Haridwar’s spiritual pulse. The significance of this site is woven into the tapestry of time: it is believed, by ancient texts and unbroken tradition, to be where Lord Vishnu set foot, and where the nectar of immortality fell during the mythic Samudra Manthan.

On this evening, the banks blossomed with humanity: pilgrims, seekers, and the simply curious pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, all drawn inexorably by the promise of the Ganga Aarti. More than 100,000 souls gathered, their anticipation a living, surging force that shivered through every bead of my being. The wet stone beneath my feet, slick from rain, echoed with chants and laughter; umbrellas bloomed like lotus petals, luminous beneath the lamp-lit dusk.

Then came the moment when torchbearers – priests clad in saffron and white – stepped forward. Brass lamps, some tiered with dozens of flames, were hoisted high, their golden auras reflecting across the restless river. As the conch shells sounded, a collective hush descended, broken only by the rhythmic clang of bells and the rumble of converging waves. Hundreds of hands lifted offering plates – each aglow with a single flame – while voices rose in unison, chanting hymns as ancient as the Ganga herself.

Some pics of Ganga Ghat at Har ki Pauri and Ganga Aarti

      

  

   

 

Serendipitous Meeting 

Returning to Kashi Matha, we were on time to have a glimpse of the Aarti to Sage Vedavyasa and others, and as we had our usual dinner of chappatis, rice, bean curry, washed down with a glass of hot milk. 

On our onward journey, we saw a lady staying at the Kashi Matha and were surprised to see her still camping here. Inquisitive me started a conversation with her, and Suma joined a few minutes later. She said that she is from a border town in Kerala and has been here for the past month or so. Though from an IT background, she has quit her job and is associated with an NGO now. Devi Maa has entrusted me to draw Shree Yantras, she added. She offers them free of cost to those whom she intuitively chooses. 

I was lucky enough to be offered one, but had to politely refuse as my house was short of a conducive environment to keep such a powerful Shri Chakra. I thanked her and bid goodbye to this lovely lady.

As we started our final packing and got ready for our last day in Uttarakhand, Sujata and I decided to go down to the River Ganga the next morning to collect Ganga for distribution back home and hit the sack.

Synopsis:

Far from South India, it was an emotional visit to Rayara Matha on an auspicious day, a silent tête-à-tête (in Bharat Mata Mandir) with many famous freedom fighters and spiritual gurus, sages, and saints who had walked the length and width of our country, a revered Gurukula in Saptharishi Ashram, to the banks of the River Ganga for the famous Ganga Aarati, our day was a joyous journey transcending our spiritual quest in the Land of Gods. 

Our next day's travelogue is in my Day 15 episode.

An attempt to visit Pancha Kedar and Pancha Badari! Day 13.

Day 13: 11/08/2025 – From Ganga’s Whisper to Evening Flame: A Pilgrimage Through Monsoon and Memory 

A Sacred Pilgrimage in Uttarakhand: The Summons of Himalayan Monsoon

The day dawned silver-grey and insistent, monsoon clouds pressed close to the Garhwal hills, their heavy skirts sweeping over Rishikesh – a threshold where the sacred Ganga emerges from the Himalayan embrace to carry prayers and memories into the plains. There are journeys one plans and others that beckon – a subtle pull of longing, legend, and the desire to stand, if only briefly, in the cool shadow of eternity. 

August 11 unfolded as one such pilgrimage, each stop along the Ganga an aperture for the spirit, each temple and cave an invocation of myth, history, and landscape. In retracing the path, let me invite you into a narrative woven with rain-soaked earth, ancient silences, and the living resonance of Himalayan devotion.

Vashishta Gufa Ashram: Into the Stillness Beneath the Riverbank Trees, Ancestral Echoes by the Ganga

We set out from Rishikesh just as the last hints of night retreated – city sounds falling away, replaced by the meditative hush of the Shivaliks. The drive northward skirted the river as she curved in wide, inscrutable arcs, her banks feathered with the dense green of gular and banyan, monsoon droplets beading every leaf and stone. Here lies Vashishta Gufa, the legendary meditation cave of Sage Vashishta, one of the Saptarishis – an abode of sorrow, revelation, and spiritual resilience.

The Cave: Light, Shadow, and the Pulse of Silence

The entrance to Vashishta Gufa is unobtrusive, nearly lost within foliage, but as you duck below the lintel, leaving behind the song of birds and beckoning river, a profound hush enfolds you. The cave’s cool, dim air seems to pulse with centuries of breath and prayer. Flickering oil lamps cast a shifting golden web across the stone walls. Somewhere within the darkness rises a shivalinga, its outline ancient and elemental, said to be installed by Sage Vashishta himself.

Here, legend collides with historical memory. Sage Vashishta, after the sorrow of his children's deaths, came to this spot with his consort Arundhati, their hearts burdened by grief deep enough to press them toward suicide in the sacred waters. Yet, the Ganga herself intervened, refusing to claim their bodies, instead compelling Vashishta to remain and meditate. It was here, tradition claims, that his penance transformed suffering into energy, and the cave became a vessel for seekers of stillness and transcendence.

It’s said that in the pre-dawn Brahma Muhurta, the Seven Rishis still descend invisibly, and that the cave has been sanctified by years of meditation by recluses and saints – most recently by Swami Purushottamananda, among others.

     

     

Vashishta Gufa

Riverside Ambience and the Call to Meditation

Stepping outside, the cave yields to a riverbank swept bare by the monsoon. Here, away from the footfalls of pilgrims, the Ganga broadens into a contemplative mirror; her cool breath on your skin a reminder of both her wildness and her nurturing embrace. Many travelers, having finished a spell within the cave, find themselves drawn to the sandbar – some for rituals of purification, others simply to sit and watch the play of cloud and water, the patient trees, and their own thoughts sinking into a softer register.

Here, the spirit is permitted to rest – consoled, charged, or merely quieted, as each heart requires. “Vashishta Cave is a special retreat,” a gray-robed swami told me, “because even the silence here contains stories.”

The Adjacent Mystery: Arundati Gufa

A short walk downstream delivers you to another aperture: Arundati Gufa. It is a smaller chamber set into a rocky hillside, facing the restless sweep of the Ganga. Its name, Arundati, honors Vashishta’s wife, said to have undertaken her own penance here. The cave, though physically modest, radiates its own aura of tranquility and mystery – a liminal space where feminine strength, devotion, and the universality of spiritual seeking are inscribed in water and stone.

          

Arundati Gufa

Setting Out – Landscape of Pilgrimage and Peril: The Ascent to Neelkanth Mahadev Temple

We retraced the route south, winding through the undulating hills and thick forests, the Ganga still within earshot, until we turned onto the famed Neelkanth Mahadev road rising steeply toward the heights above Rishikesh. The air was sharp with petrichor – the scent of rain meeting earth and the underlying musk of decomposing leaves.

The journey itself became an act of spiritual will – a microcosm of penance and perseverance, every obstacle a reminder of the Himalaya’s dual gift: sanctuary and trial.

Arrival: Myth Embodied in Stone and Rain

The last climb, slippery with debris, ushered us into a small clearing where the vision of the Neelkanth Mahadev Temple materialized: its shikhara rising skyward, bright against the mist. Devotees, soaked to the skin, pressed forward in silent lines, clutching offerings of bel leaves, milk, and coconut, their faces a mingling of fatigue and awe.

This is one of Hinduism’s most potent places – where the primordial legend of Samudra Manthan (churning of the cosmic ocean) is believed to have reached its crisis and resolution. Here, in the midst of gods and demons vie for amrit – the nectar of immortality – the deadly Halahala poison surfaced, threatening annihilation. Lord Shiva, in an act of sublime compassion, drank the poison, holding it in his throat, which turned deep blue (Neela Kanth – literally “blue throat”) and thereby saved creation. The temple honors this sacrifice, making it a site not only of worship, but of the commemoration of suffering freely embraced for the sake of the world.

Darshan and Renewal: The Ritual and the Meal

Participating in darshan – the “seeing and being seen” by the deity – was a restless, roiling experience. Rain pelted the temple roof, wind sent banners streaming, and the press of bodies moved as a single resolve. Offerings placed before the shivalingam felt like acts of gratitude for survival and fortitude, carried out both for oneself and for all those loved ones.

Lunch followed, at a nearby restaurant – a simple plate of paratha, dal with potatoes, and curds. Humble, hearty, and satisfying.

Descending the hill, we were briefly halted by falling rocks. The local police, drenched but resolute, guided traffic through the debris with commendable efficiency.

Bharat Mandir – Heart of Rishikesh, Meeting a Deity Older Than the City

In the city center, we visited Bharat Mandir, dedicated to Lord Vishnu in his form as Hrishikesh Narayana. Believed to have been founded by Bharat, the brother of Lord Ram, the temple was reinstalled by Adi Shankaracharya in the 8th century.

The sanctum houses a Sri Yantra within the pyramidal gopura, harmonizing five Vedic methods of worship. The temple also functions as a Gurukul Ashram, continuing Rishikesh’s tradition as a seat of Vedic learning. Pilgrims and seekers from across India – and the world – pass through its doors.

   

Some Pics of Bharat Mandir, Rishikesh

Rituals Rooted in Legend

Basant Panchami and Akshaya Tritiya, major festivals here, retain rituals drawn from antiquity: processions to the Ganga, 108 circumambulations believed to ensure the granting of wishes and liberation. On festivals, the feet of the deity (usually hidden) are revealed – a reminder of the mystery and humility that root the spiritual in the physical world.

Evening in Haridwar – Rayaru’s Quiet Blessing

From Rishikesh, we drove to Kashi Matha in Haridwar, our base for the next two nights. It was Madhyaradhana day – a sacred occasion honoring Sri Guru Raghavendra Swamiji, entering the Brundavana, at Mantralaya.

I had heard of a Rayara Matha in Haridwar and was delighted to find it just a couple of blocks away. After attending the evening aarati at Kashi Math, we walked to Rayaru Matha, only to find it closed. The main priest was away in New Delhi for a pravachana.

Yet, in a quiet act of grace, the resident cook opened the door to the Rayara Brundavana, allowing us darshan of Gurugalu. We were invited to return the next day for the pooja, havan, and teertha prasada – a gesture that felt like a divine appointment, a fitting close to a day shaped by rain, rockfalls, and rare blessings.

If pilgrimage is a search for meaning in the world’s wild margins, then this day on the Ganga’s banks reminded me: the greatest offering is the return to presence – to water, stone, wind, hunger, heart, and the quiet, insistent hope that, in journeying together, we too might become vessels of light and reverence, at least for a little while.

Synopsis:

From the silence of Vashishta Gufa, through the storm-battered heights of Neelkanth Mahadev, to the ageless hush and renewal of Bharat Mandir, and the living discipline of Kashi and Rayara Mathas, each place and story braided into the other – sky, mountain, cave – a tapestry too vivid for memory alone.

Our next day's travelogue is in my Day 14 episode.

An attempt to visit Pancha Kedar and Pancha Badari! Day 12.

Day 12: 10/08/2025 – From Island Temple to Raghunath Ram Temple: 

A Sacred Pilgrimage in Uttarakhand: Journey Through Spirit, History, and River

As we set out on August 10th, the monsoon clouds gave way to a translucent blue sky, hinting at both the promise of new beginnings and the wisdom of ages past. 

Our journey that day would take us through the beating spiritual heart of Uttarakhand, weaving together ancient rituals, the cool rush of mountain rivers, and echoes of dynasties long vanished. Each step was imbued with reverence – not merely for stones and shrines, but for the ceaseless pulse of devotion and history that binds these sacred landscapes together. 

Across swirling waters and winding mountain roads, I found myself not only a recorder of sights, but a participant in a living, breathing spiritual tradition, carried forward by thousands before me. What follows is a refined, immersive account of this memorable day – beginning with a golden dawn on the Alakananda, traversing through the enigmatic ruins of Devalgarh, pausing at the sanctified halls of Maa Raj Rajeshwari and Narayana Samuha, and culminating in the nightly Ganga Aarti and Shayanaarti of Ram at Devprayag, where the rivers’ embrace echoes the confluence of past and present, human and divine.

And so, we started off our 12^th day in the Land of Gods (Dev Bhoomi) in a quest for more intriguing temples. 

Dhari Devi Temple: At the Edge of Mystery

Location & Approach

A winding drive along the roaring Alakananda brings you to the entrance of the temple, and as you walk down the ramp and steps, you can see the river. As you cross the low pedestrian bridge, where the river’s current is at once furious and serenely purposeful. Perched upon a mid-stream rock, the Dhari Devi Temple appears impermanent and eternal at the same time, a tiny fortress braving the river’s every mood.

A view of the temple from the roadside

Myths and Changing Forms

Dhari Devi is no ordinary goddess – she is the guardian deity of Garhwal, protector not just of villages but of the entire Char Dham Yatra circuit itself. The idol within, said to change form over the course of the day – from maiden at dawn, to woman at midday, to crone at dusk – mirrors the cycle of human life. The upper half of the goddess resides here in Kalyasaur, while her lower half is venerated at Kalimath, where she is worshipped as Kali herself. This narrative, unique and enigmatic, blends the fierce and beneficent forms of the goddess, making her both a granter of boons and an instiller of caution.

The Temple’s Modern History

Faith in Dhari Devi’s power is not mere tradition. On June 16, 2013, authorities moved the original temple and idol to accommodate a hydroelectric project. Hours later, devastating floods ravaged Uttarakhand, destroying much in their path, and locals immediately attributed the disaster to the goddess’s displeasure – a concurrent echo of an earlier attempt in 1882 that had equally disastrous consequences.

This permanent intertwining of faith, landscape, and fate shapes local life. The daily rituals at the temple, the continuous stream of visitors – devotees, tourists, and the simply curious – are acts of devotion, community, and insurance against the unpredictable mountain elements.

The temple, cradled by flowing waters, seemed to float between earth and sky. With each step toward the garbhagriha, or inner sanctum, the outside world fell away. The soundscape was as layered as the landscape itself – the soft chant of the priest, the rhythmic lapping of river against stone, and somewhere, a bird’s insistent cry. With each step toward the garbhagriha, or inner sanctum, the outside world fell away. As the morning aarati commenced, the space was transformed: golden flame reflected in our eyes, smoke from incense swirling into the rafters, and the sounds of conch and bell echoing across the water. After the morning aarti, I quietly slipped into meditation mode, chanting the Beeja Mantra of Sri Durga Saptashati that took the best part of 20 minutes. I felt an overwhelming sense of continuity, not just with those present, but with untold generations who had started their day in just this way on these ancient banks.

Suma carried a lovingly crafted braid of faux hair, a bead garland, and other adornments for Devi Maa, which she offered to the priest with quiet devotion. As the priest performed the Puja for the benefit of all of our family members and us, I quietly prayed "सर्वत्र सुखं प्रबलं भवतु" – "Let Happiness Prevail Everywhere" before leaving the place. And for the record, we took a few pictures too!

(I’ve described this temple in detail in last year’s blog entry: My First Badari Yaatra – Part 10)

       

A view of the temple and the view where the river flows towards Dev Prayag

     

Another view of the river

     

A view of the intricate carvings on the wooden pillars and door at the temple

After breakfast back at our lodging, we packed our bags into the vehicle and turned toward Srinagar – only to take a left detour toward Devalgarh Dev Samuh.

Devalgarh Dev Samuh: Stepping into a Lost Capital

Location, Approach & History

Devalgarh, once the capital of the Garhwal Kingdom in the 16th Century, before it was shifted to Srinagar, is perched at the crossroads of history and faith. Unlike the bustling pilgrimage towns one might expect, Devalgarh radiates a sense of tranquil endurance – a place both faded and vital, where stone and legend coexist in perfect balance. Considered one of those small towns that are rich in architecture, Devalgarh is best known for its group of ancient temples, like Gaura Devi, which is one of the Sidhpeethas, devoted to the divine Goddess Gauri and is believed to be built by Lord Kubera in the 7th Century AD.

The Dev Samuh, or "divine group" of temples, sprawls gently across a hillside, interspersed with wildflowers and the occasional sanctuary bell. The main complex stands as an elegant tapestry of architectural styles: intricately carved pillars, weathered yet resplendent masks over sanctum doors, and incomparably crafted shikharas that rise like silent prayers to the heavens. Devalgarh is a historical town in the Pauri Garhwal district, known for its ancient temples and as the former capital of the Garhwal kingdom established by King Ajay Pal in the 16th century. Here, the influence of the early Katūri and later Garhwal dynasties is evident, each shrine capturing a different phase of Himalayan temple architecture – stone superstructures, wooden carvings, tiered roofs, and mandapa halls arranged to host both personal meditation and grand processions.

As we arrived in Devalgarh, the air shifted: lighter, charged, the kind of stillness only a place deeply steeped in spiritual tradition exudes. 

This complex of temples can be reached, again, by climbing over 120 steps.  Located on a scenic mountain route, it is home to the temple of Shri Maa Gaura Devi (dedicated to Maa Parvati) and the Devalgarh Mahadev Temple, attracting visitors with its natural beauty and spiritual significance. There is a temple dedicated to Lord Narasimha with Hiranya Kashyapu on his lap, but covered by a cloth, except for his face. These temples are almost as old as the Badarinath and Kedarnath Temples. There is also an old temple of Maa Dakshin Kaali. There is an ancient Vishnu temple too, which remains uncared.

         

              

         

Kaala Bhairava                        Shiva Temple

         

              Dakshin Kali Temple   

                   

Lord Narasimha killing Hiranya Kashyapu                               Garuda

        

     

            

     

Some pics of Devalgarh Dev Samuha

The emotional resonance in this part of the journey is hard to overstate. To wander the temple complex is to experience living history – not as an observer but as an inheritor of collective memory, a feeling made all the more acute by the knowledge that these temples, with all their grace and weathered grandeur, remain alive through the ceaseless devotion of pilgrims and villagers alike.

A group of women, accompanied by two young girls, were chanting Devi stotras with such devotion and melody that it felt like the stones themselves were listening. The girls’ grasp of Sanatani Sanskar was remarkable – an inspiring glimpse of tradition passed gracefully to the next generation.

Not only does the temple offer a heartwarming view of the Himalayas, but it also calls out to pilgrims for an annual fair, which is organized during the harvest season. 

Maa Raj Rajeshwari – The Origin Shrine

A climb of another 100 odd steps on the right side of Devalgarh temple complex took us to the famed Maa Raj Rajeshwari Temple, an epicenter of feminine divinity, renowned not just across Uttarakhand but throughout the subcontinent as a Jagrit Shakti Peeth – a site “awakened” by the living presence of the goddess. The shrine is revered as the origin of all Maa temples in India. The priest explained that the idol remains veiled unless devotees observe a strict fast the day before and on the day of the pooja, culminating in a havan. Here, worship focuses on yantras rather than idols – a subtle but profound spiritual distinction.

     

Rajarajeshwari Temple in Devalgarh

Suma offered vastra and other items, which, the priest said, would be used to adorn the deities the following day as pooja for the day was complete.

Narayana Samuha in Sumari Village: The Quiet Pulse of Village Devotion

Our next stop – Narayana Samuha in Sumari village – was a study in serene contrast to the grandeur of Devalgarh’s complexes. The drive took us through narrow, twisting roads bordered on either side by terraced fields and the scattered clusters of village homes, their roofs echoing the slate-and-stone vocabulary of Garhwali tradition. The village itself, nestled on the slopes above Srinagar, seemed suspended in time – a mosaic of ancient rituals, slow rhythms, and intimate community ties.

Narayana Samuha, literally “group of Narayana shrines”, is a cluster of small temples dedicated primarily to manifestations of Lord Vishnu and associated deities. Unlike the more famous shrines, the Samuha is understated: low-slung sanctums built of roughly hewn stone, marked out by humble floral garlands (if at all) and the occasional saffron banner fluttering in the breeze, pujas offered with the minimum of ceremony but maximal sincerity.

Entering the main shrine, I was struck by the unusual iconography: a central idol of Vishnu flanked not just by standard companions Lakshmi and Garuda, but also by images reflecting local pantheons and beliefs. The temple bells, worn smooth by generations of hands, seemed to speak mutely of the continuity of faith through drought, monsoon, and harvest. While the Narayana Samuha lacks the architectural distinction or royal patronage of Devalgarh, its spiritual gravity is in no way diminished. There is a palpable sense that these shrines have shielded their guardians as much as been shielded by them – the two eternally entwined in a cycle of offering and gratitude. 

       

    

            

       

Different idols of Lord Vishnu, with Lakshmi at Narayan Samuha

Just yonder in the open makeshift playground, a few youngsters were playing cricket. I wondered how they could play in this terrain, but it looks like they were used to it. 

It is in villages like Sumari, rarely mapped or photographed, that Uttarakhand’s spiritual lifeblood most clearly reveals itself—not through spectacle but through the quiet pulse of daily worship, the maintenance of ancient ritual, and the unobtrusive hospitality of those who still offer the first fruits of their labor to gods and travelers alike.

Dev Prayag: Where Rivers and Blessings Meet

We proceeded to Dev Prayag from here and had lunch prepared earlier in the morning, along with ice cream. Reaching Dev Prayag around 17h00, we checked into Motel Dev overlooking the confluence of the Rivers Alakananda and Bhagirathi.

My friend Pt. Shubranshu, still camping in Dev Prayag, called me to inform me that the Ganga Aarti will be performed at 19h00 sharp and suggested we be there. We tried our best to be there on time, but the aarti was over by then as we were a tad late. However, we could get a glimpse from afar and take the blessing of the aarti. The water level, we observed, had risen so much that the rock, which held Ram’s footprint (described during our initial visit), was barely visible.

Teen Deviyan at Dev Prayag

The Origin of the Ganges and Raghunathji’s Shayanaarti

As the last light of day pooled above the ridgelines, we descended to Devprayag – the hallowed confluence where the Bhagirathi and Alakananda rivers merge to birth the Ganges. If the day’s earlier sites evoked introspection and the quiet weight of history, Devprayag is where spiritual gravity finds its most dramatic, unifying expression.

Long considered the spiritual gateway to the Himalayas, Devprayag’s significance is manifold: for geographers, it is the physical origination of India’s holiest river; for mythologists, it is where Lord Ram’s penance and blessings made the world anew; for pilgrims, it is the ultimate convergence, the point where personal devotion joins the eternal current of the Ganga. The landscape here is almost operatic—the town clings to rocky outcrops above the churning waters, while hillside temples and ashrams cluster in a dazzling array of white, ochre, and gold. The two rivers, their colors distinct until the precise point of union, seem to embody all that is sacred about Uttarakhand: unity in diversity, the familiar transformed by encounter.

It was nearly dark by the time we climbed the 110 steps to reach the Raghunath Ram temple. Shubranshu had informed us that we would have a chance to see the Shayanaarti and Vishwaroopa Darshana of Lord Ram, and so we waited in the precincts of the temple. 

As twilight gathered, the temple’s facade glowed with lights from various sources it was time to go to the temple. Smoke from sandalwood incense drifted in garbhagriha; the sweet, insistent cadence of temple bells rode the evening breeze. Entering the temple, I sensed an eager expectancy, the sort of communal anticipation that electrifies festival crowds and nightly rituals alike. At the heart of the ritual lies the shayanaarti – the ceremonial “putting to bed” of the deity, treated not as an image but as an honored, living guest.

Standing amidst only our group and a few other worshippers, I was moved by the seamless blending of everyday human affection and the transcendence accorded to the divine. Tears sprang to more than one eye as hands were raised in blessing, voices entwined in age-old melodies. As the shayanaarti drew to its close, I marveled at how the rituals of this ancient temple – echoes of kings, sages, and untold pilgrims before – continue to knit together lives and stories, sustaining the fragile yet enduring tapestry of faith that defines Devprayag and, indeed, all of Uttarakhand.

Raghunath Ram Temple

I have covered this place in my earlier travelogue of last year https://mycentortwo.blogspot.com/2024/12/my-first-badari-yaatra-part-10-14112024.html. 

Shayanaarti at Raghunath Temple: A Divine Consolation

It felt like divine orchestration. We had originally booked the Shayanaarti at Badarinath for this very day, but couldn’t make it due to unforeseen circumstances. Yet here we were, witnessing the same ritual in Dev Prayag. A humbling reminder that blessings find their way, even when plans falter.

Closing the Day with Comfort and Gratitude

After the aarati, we treated ourselves to momos – simple, satisfying. Back at the hotel, we ended the day with a traditional dinner of rice, saaru, and curds. Sleep came easily, wrapped in the quiet joy of a day that had offered more than we had asked for.

      

Night view of the confluence from our hotel room balcony

Synopsis:

Today, we visited the famed Dhari Devi temple and a cluster of temples at Devalgarh and Narayana Samuha before ending our day at Devprayag, in time for Ganga and Shayan aarati.

Our next day's travelogue is in my Day 13 episode.