When I was a kid, I always wondered—who the hell made these traditions, and why are we blindly following them?
It was my personal million-dollar question. No one ever gave me a satisfying answer. Not my family, not my teachers—not even Google (and that's saying something). But over time, I found the answer myself… not in books, but in trains, temples, and tiny acts of kindness. For the past 25 years, our family has been visiting a Goddess Durga temple in Bhiwani during Navratras. No matter what storm is hitting our lives—exams, jobs, breakups, promotions, or pandemics—someone from the family shows up to light the Akhand Jyot.
It’s more than a ritual—it’s our emotional GPS.
Similarly, I’ve been doing an annual pilgrimage to Vaishno Devi for the last 10 years.
And now when I look back, these are not just trips. They’ve become our traditions. My firm belief? Maa Durga is my invisible Wi-Fi—strong signal, zero lag, all blessings.
Whether my next generation will follow these traditions or start their own TV show on “Why Not to Believe?”—only time will tell. But I’m glad I chose this path.
Let me take you through my recent journey to Vaishno Devi, filled with divine darshan, accidental adventures, and stories that make you smile (and sometimes shake your head).
The Train Chronicles: From Dilli to Divinity
I boarded the train from Delhi and noticed a young mother sitting opposite me with her 1-year-old daughter, Divyanshi. She was travelling alone from Mumbai to Ludhiana to meet her in-laws—on a train with no pantry and barely any halts. She hadn’t eaten in 5+ hours. At the next stop—Ambala—I grabbed some food for her and took care of her little one while she ate. She looked at me with pure gratitude. I waved goodbye to little Divyanshi at Ludhiana.
Lesson? Small act, big smile..
Enter the B.Ed Bahu & Her Mom
From Ambala, two more passengers joined—another mother-daughter duo. The daughter was studying B.Ed near Katra and was also pregnant with her second child. So the mother decided to stay with her in the hostel. It turns out, trains are great for parenting podcasts!
I smiled and thought—this is the real multitasking: degrees + diapers and only women’s can do it.
Faith Has No Eyes – Just Vision
At Katra, I saw a blind man from Alwar (Rajasthan) who had come alone for darshan. My first instinctive (and admittedly foolish) thought was—“What will he even see?” But then it hit me—darshan is not about sight, it’s about insight. I helped him get his yatra slip. Later, I found out a family had adopted him for the entire journey.
Faith really does find its way.
Mr. Dubey & The Kolkatta Chapter
While climbing up, I met an elderly couple—Mr. and Mrs. Dubey from Kolkata. He’s a Physics professor, retiring in July’13, and wanted to bring his wife for darshan. Since I had nothing better to do (and was unofficially training for the Vaishno Devi Olympics), I became their guide till Bhairon Baba. We spent 6 hours together, clicked photos, shared stories, and exchanged numbers. I became their local Google Maps with voiceover. I basically became their honorary third child.
Free prasad + emotional bonding = spiritual combo pack.
The Ardhkunwari Confusion
At Ardhkunwari, a group from Bihar looked lost. They didn’t know about the Yatra slip requirement. I guided them through the process, shared some tips, and we parted ways.
Note to first-time travelers: Google Maps doesn’t help with spiritual queues.
The Sleeper Class Saga
Now the funny part—my return train was at 5:00 AM. I reached the station at 12:00 AM (classic overplanning). The debate began: hotel for 4 hours or railway station lounge luxury? By 2:00 AM, saw my train already parked. With the attendant’s nod, I boarded early and dozed off like a budget yogi. Slept. At 3:00 AM, train started moving! I panicked—was this divine mischief? Turned out it was going to the yard for cleaning. So yes, I technically took a joyride at 3:00 AM before the actual journey. My train finally left Jammu at 8:00 am.
Indian Railways: Where suspense meets spirituality.
The Man Forgotten by His Family
On the way back, I met a 75-year-old man with cataract and vitiligo. He was travelling alone to meet some relatives because his own son had stopped caring for him. He looked tired… not just physically, but emotionally. His story stung. How do people forget the hands that once fed them? Made me want to hug my parents tighter.
Reminder for all of us: Karma has a longer memory than Facebook.
The Call That Keeps Ringing
Throughout my 3-day journey, my family kept calling: “Are you coming back or planning to become a priest?” Jokes apart, no matter how old you get—even at 31, you’re still the little kid of the family.
But the truth is—Maa Durga made sure I never felt alone. Strangers became stories. Moments became memories. And somehow, even chaos found purpose. Because as I’ve learned:
• Traditions aren’t always forced.
• Sometimes, they grow on you… like chai, or kindness, or the chants of “Jai Mata Di.”
Next year, same journey. New stories. Same faith.
