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.