Reader

This photograph was taken in 2019 at the Kumbh Mela in Allahabad. It was not my first visit, but it was undoubtedly the most profound. No matter how many times one witnesses it, the sheer vastness of the Kumbh defies comprehension. It is not merely a gathering—it is an entire civilisation unfolding along the riverbanks.

The Kumbh Mela holds within it the whole of India. Millions arrive from every corner of the country—saints and ascetics, pilgrims and seekers, householders and wanderers. Languages merge, customs collide, and centuries-old traditions coexist with the present moment. Despite this overwhelming diversity of sects, social strata, and cultures, everyone is drawn by a single, timeless pursuit: moksha—liberation of the soul.

Amid this ocean of humanity, where chants rise and fade, conch shells echo, and footsteps never seem to stop, I noticed this lone sadhu. For nearly thirty minutes, I observed him from close quarters. His stillness stood in quiet defiance of the surrounding chaos. The crowd surged endlessly around him, yet he remained unmoved, deeply absorbed in his reading.

His concentration was absolute—so complete that my presence, so close and so direct, went entirely unnoticed. In that moment, the Kumbh revealed one of its deepest truths: that even within unimaginable scale and noise, solitude is possible. Faith, when fully inhabited, can create its own silence—even in the heart of the world’s largest human congregation.