From Atheist to Seeker: My Shashtiabdhapoorthi Awakening in Kashi

(approx. readtime ~25-30 mins)

Why I Went to Kashi

For most of my life, I never felt the need to engage in rituals. I called myself a proud atheist once. My faith was in effort, reason, and action - not in prayers or temples. But life, as it often does, had other plans. Over time, as the edges of logic blurred and personal loss, inner conflict, and deep transitions emerged, I found myself turning to the Bhagavad Gita - not for religion, but for clarity. For silence. For a deeper understanding of what it means to live well.

That quiet shift brought me back to Sanatan Dharma. And with it, came a gentle call - not loud, not urgent, but firm - to mark this point in my life. To pause. To reflect. To reset.

When I turned sixty, I decided to undergo a Shashtiabdhapoorthi ceremony - a traditional Vedic ritual to honour one’s life so far and prepare, with intention, for the next phase. But I didn’t want to perform it in a generic hall with symbolic gestures and vague chanting. I wanted to truly experience it. To understand each step. To feel it in my bones.

And so, I went to Kashi.

The Significance of Shashtiabdhapoorthi

The Shashtiabdhapoorthi marks the completion of 60 years of one’s life - a deeply symbolic milestone in Sanatan Dharma. The term comes from Sanskrit: Shashti means sixty, Abda means year, and Poorthi signifies completion. According to the Vedas, the full span of a human life is considered to be 120 years, so this midpoint is seen as a rebirth of sorts - a moment to pause, reflect, and realign one’s journey ahead.

In the traditional Hindu calendar, there are 60 named years (Prabhava, Vibhava, etc.) that repeat cyclically. When someone completes 60 years, they’ve experienced each of these once - a full revolution through cosmic time. Particularly significant is when one turns 60 in the same named year in which they were born, closing a sacred loop.

Astronomically, this year is also powerful. All the planets return to the same zodiac positions they held at one’s birth. The ceremony is ideally performed when the moon aligns again with one’s Janma Nakshatra - the birth star - during the same month. This planetary return symbolises renewal, with a focus on health, wisdom, detachment, and inner strength.

The Vedic texts say:

“Janmaabde, Janmamaasecha Swajanmadivase tathaa, Janmarshe chaiva kartavyaa shanti rugrarathaahvayaa, Devaalaye nadeeteere swagruhe vaa shubhasthale”

This means that rituals for peace and renewal must be performed in one’s 60th year, preferably at an auspicious location - a temple, a riverbank, or one’s own sacred space.

The sages viewed this as a time to perform again, with awareness and gratitude, the very rituals that one’s parents once did at birth. It is not just celebration, but consecration - and this is what brought me to Kashi.

Why This Ceremony Mattered to Me

This was the first ever Vedic pooja I had arranged and participated in for myself (not counting an occasional Havan when I bought a new home or did my startup office). Not as part of a family function. Not for someone else. Just for me.

My elder sister, who is like a mother to me, wanted to accompany me. But I chose to do it alone (Sorry Didi 🙏). I felt this was a personal journey - deeply inward - and I needed the space to engage with it fully, without distraction.

What made it even more meaningful was that every ritual, every chant, every gesture was explained to me. Not just performed around me. The ceremony was designed and led by Pt. Shivam Sharma ji, a senior Pundit at the Kashi Vishwanath Temple. After hearing my life story, my transitions, and aspirations, he chose the location, the exact date, and even the specific form of Shiva before whom the ceremony was to be held.

What followed was not just a ritual. It was a guided inward journey, with four learned Pundits (two of whom are also Vedic teachers), who helped me rediscover not just tradition - but myself.

The Moment I Stepped Inward – From Atheist to Seeker

There was a time when I proudly called myself an atheist. Rituals, gods, temples - I saw them all as external props for inner fears. I believed in logic, effort, and self-made success. For decades, that belief served me well. Or so I thought.

But over time, when success didn’t quiet the inner questions, and setbacks shook my identity, I realised there were layers within me I had never truly explored. The Bhagavad Gita became my quiet companion. What began as intellectual curiosity soon became my spiritual anchor.

It didn’t happen overnight. But slowly, I stopped mocking rituals and started seeking their essence. Not for religion. Not for society. But to see if there’s something deeper - a language beyond words, an experience beyond thought.

This ceremony in Kashi wasn’t a break from my past - it was a continuation. The same logical mind, now open to a different dimension of truth. The seeker in me isn’t replacing the entrepreneur or the rationalist. He’s just walking beside them - a little quieter, a little wiser.

Blessings Before the Ceremony: The Sacred Visits

Before the main Shashtiabdhapoorthi ritual at Mrityunjay Mahadev Temple, Pt. Shivam Sharma ji guided me through four sacred visits to deepen my intent and connect with Kashi’s unique spiritual geography:

Manikarnikeshwar Mahadev

Nestled by Manikarnika Ghat, this ancient form of Shiva is venerated for granting Moksha at the moment of death. Legend says he whispers the Taraka Mantra - the mantra of liberation - to souls departing this world. Beginning the day here invoked both life’s fragility and its freedom.  

Pita Maheshwar Mahadev

Hidden in a subterranean chamber reached via a 24‑foot shaft, this Shivling is viewed through a hole and only fully accessible on Mahashivratri. Called Pita Maheshwar (“father’s Shiva”), ritual visits here are believed to protect not just oneself, but 21 generations of ancestors. This visit honoured the unseen lineage behind me.  

Chandra Koop

This legendary ancient well, created by the Moon god Chandra himself, ties cosmic energy to Shiva worship. Legends say it can even forecast death - if one’s shadow disappears in its depths, it signals imminent change. Here, I paused to reflect on mortality, renewal, and the deeper currents beneath everyday life.  

Dhand Pani (Dandapani)

Not far from the Vishwanath temple is Dhand Pani - “he whose hand holds the staff.” As Kashi’s appointed guardian of order, he punishes injustice and upholds discipline. Seeking his blessing felt like a vow: to engage with this ritualised journey responsibly and with integrity.  

Visiting these specific temples and deities, each with their own energy - liberation, ancestor-honouring, cosmic introspection, and disciplined protection - set the tone for the ceremony at Mrityunjay Mahadev Temple. They weren't just stops on a pilgrimage, but essential steps in preparing my heart, mind, and soul for transformation.

The Ceremony Location: Maha Mrityunjay Mahadev Temple and Avadeshwar Shivling

The entire Shashtiabdhapoorthi ceremony was held at the revered Mrityunjay Mahadev Temple in Kashi, chosen by Pt. Shivam Sharma ji after our detailed conversations. He felt this temple, and specifically the Avadeshwar Shivling within it, reflected my journey and aspirations best.

This temple holds profound significance in Sanatan Dharma. It is not only home to multiple sacred Shivlings, but also houses the legendary Dhanvantari Well, named after Lord Dhanvantari - the divine physician and avatar of Vishnu, associated with healing, Ayurveda, and rejuvenation. The water from this well is considered spiritually and physically purifying. Devotees believe it holds the power to cleanse ailments of both body and soul. This is the water that was used throughout my ceremony - not just for Abhishek, but also for Sankalp, and I drank it as well. Tastiest water I had in a long time!

The Avadeshwar Shivling is especially powerful in its simplicity. It is not elevated, but placed in a slightly lowered square pit, bordered by a small marble boundary. The Pundits and I sat around this sacred space on the ground, facing inward, creating an intimate circle of reverence. There was no grand altar, no standing around. Just all of us, grounded - both literally and spiritually - engaging with every chant, every offering, in close presence and humility.

The Ceremonial Journey

The entire ceremony began at 8:30 a.m. and concluded around 1 p.m. Each step flowed into the next, uninterrupted. Here’s what unfolded, in sequence:

Sacred Beginnings: Ma Ganga Snan at Manikarnika Ghat (Approx. 25 mins)

The ceremony began not in the temple, but at the eternal embrace of Ma Ganga. We walked down to Manikarnika Ghat, one of the oldest and most spiritually significant ghats in Kashi. This wasn’t a casual dip or a symbolic splash of water. This was an intentional purification of body, mind, and soul.

Pt. Shivam Sharma ji, who had curated the entire ceremony after understanding my personal and spiritual journey, chose Manikarnika Ghat for this opening act. And for good reason.

Manikarnika is no ordinary place. It is where life and death meet without conflict. The ghat is known as a sacred cremation ground - a place where souls are believed to attain liberation (moksha). But it is also the site of immense renewal. The waters here carry not just ashes, but centuries of surrender, of letting go, of becoming free.

As I stepped into Maa Ganga, Pt. Shivam ji shared something profound - that this ghat symbolically represents all the twelve Jyotirlingas. Bathing here, he said, carries the weight of seeking blessings from each of those divine manifestations of Shiva. I paused for a moment, letting that sink in. I wasn’t just taking a few dips - I was being initiated into something larger than I could fully comprehend.

The Ma Ganga Snan was done with full intent - not rushed, not ceremonial in the hollow sense, but deeply personal. The cold waters wrapped around me like an embrace. And in that moment, I wasn’t a founder, an actor, or even a seeker. I was just a soul - raw, open, and ready.

Once I emerged from the water and changed into fresh clothes (a traditional Dhoti and an angavastra), Pt. Shivam ji guided me to seek blessings from an elderly Pundit who is entrusted with the spiritual oversight of Manikarnika Ghat. A quiet but commanding presence, he sits at the edge of the ghat, witnessing the constant rhythm of burning pyres and floating prayers.

I told him why I had come to Kashi, why I was performing this ceremony. What followed was an unexpected yet unforgettable exchange. He spoke of reincarnation, of how he had watched countless lives pass through these flames - some fearful, some peaceful. He spoke of Dharma, of how living a karmically aligned life isn’t about perfection but intention. That our actions follow us, not just in this lifetime but beyond.

That conversation stayed with me. It grounded me. In a place that bears witness to so many endings, I found a beginning - not just to the ceremony, but to a renewed relationship with life itself.

Achaman, Pranayam, and Shuddhikaran (Approx. 15 mins)

With Ma Ganga’s waters still fresh on my skin and the temple bells in the background, I was seated near the Avadeshwar Shivling at the sacred site. The ceremony began with Achaman, Pranayam, and Shuddhikaran - a sequence that felt like settling into silence within.

Pt. Shivam Sharma ji guided me through this first act of inward turning. Achaman is the act of sipping sanctified water thrice while chanting sacred mantras - purifying body and speech. It was followed by Pranayam, the controlled breathing practice to centre the mind. Finally, Shuddhikaran - a ritual purification using water and mantras - symbolically cleanses one's inner self of accumulated negativities.

Though subtle and quiet, this first step set the tone for everything that followed. It wasn’t just about external cleanliness. It was a calling in - a way to invite my deeper self to show up fully for what was to come. I felt a calm alertness, as if my senses had aligned for something sacred.

Dhyan of Kal Bhairav and Ancestors, and Mangalacharan (Swasti Vachan) (Approx. 20 mins)

Next, I was guided to invoke those who silently witness and protect this sacred land and my own lineage. Pt. Shivam ji asked me to close my eyes and meditate - first on Bhagawan Kal Bhairav, the fierce guardian of Kashi, and then on my parents and ancestors.

Kal Bhairav, often misunderstood for his form, is the protector of Dharma and the granter of spiritual discipline. In Kashi, he is revered as the Kshetrapal - the one who grants permission to begin any sacred work. As I focused on his presence, I felt a sharp shift in energy - as if boundaries had been drawn around this sacred space.

Then came the moment to remember my mata-pita, both in their physical form and as part of a long ancestral chain. I was asked to consciously thank them - for life, for choices made, for karmic debts, for support and silence. It was deeply emotional, almost unexpected, how alive that moment felt.

This was followed by the Mangalacharan or Swasti Vachan, the chanting of auspicious invocations to seek divine grace and wellbeing. The rhythm of the mantras, coupled with their meaning, felt like a formal invitation to all that is good and protective to preside over the ritual. The air shifted palpably - calm, clear, ready.

Sankalp and Deep Pujan (Approx. 20 mins)

With the sacred space now protected and sanctified, we moved into the next significant act - the Sankalp. This was the formal declaration of intent - a personal and spiritual contract with the universe. I was guided to state my name, gotra, the place, time, and purpose of the ceremony. But this wasn’t just a formality. Pt. Shivam ji reminded me that Sankalp is where the outer ritual meets inner resolve.

As I spoke, I found myself not just naming facts, but affirming something much deeper: I was ready to mark this transition in life consciously, with humility, clarity, and surrender. I was no longer going through the motions of a tradition - I was stepping into it with full presence.

Then came the Deep Pujan, the worship of the sacred lamp. The lamp, lit and offered with flowers and akshata (rice grains), symbolised the inner light - the flame of awareness, guidance, and wisdom. It was placed close to the Avadeshwar Shivling, radiating a soft, unwavering glow as the mantras were chanted.

There was something intimate and grounding about this act. The flame, the silence, the clarity of my Sankalp - it felt like the inner and outer worlds were now aligned, and I was finally ready to begin the deeper journey into each ritual that followed.

Gauri Ganesh Avahan and Puja (Approx. 25 mins)

Before invoking any other deities or commencing the core Vedic rituals, we called upon Maa Gauri and Bhagwan Ganesh - the eternal divine pair representing wisdom and auspiciousness. This is a foundational step in any major puja, but here it carried even deeper meaning.

Pt. Shivam ji explained that Ganesh is not just the remover of obstacles, but also the granter of mental clarity and inner alignment. Maa Gauri, his divine mother and form of Shakti, embodies nurturing strength - the kind that sustains spiritual transformation.

The invocation, or avahan, was done with folded hands, sacred chants, and offerings of water, flowers, and durva grass. The Ganesh idol was decorated with sandalwood paste and fresh flowers, while Maa Gauri was symbolically represented and offered kumkum, turmeric, and seasonal blossoms.

As the mantras echoed, I was asked to internally invite them into the space of the puja - and into my heart. I had heard these rituals chanted before in temples and family functions, but this was the first time I truly felt like an active participant. This wasn’t ritual for ritual’s sake - it was a way of inviting wisdom and compassion into the core of what I was about to do.

It was also a soft moment - the energy of Gauri and Ganesh felt like gentle reassurance. As if the universe was saying, “You’re not alone. You’re being held.”

Brahman Pujan (Approx. 25 mins)

Seated in a semi-circle around the Avadeshwar Shivling, we moved into one of the most powerful and humbling segments of the entire ceremony - the Brahman Pujan.

Pt. Shivam ji explained the significance of this ritual: in Sanatan Dharma, Brahmins are not merely priests by caste - they are symbolic representatives of sacred knowledge and continuity. Honouring them is equivalent to honouring the entire lineage of Vedic wisdom and all those who have preserved it through oral and lived tradition.

I was invited to do the pujan personally. I applied tilak and placed grains of rice on the foreheads of each of the Brahmins seated before me. These weren’t just priests performing a ritual - they were my teachers for the day, my guides through the sacred unknown. Many of them, I was told, were also acharyas at a local Vedic gurukul, deeply rooted in the traditions they embodied.

As I bowed before them, touching their feet and offering them new clothes and dakshina, I wasn’t just performing a ritual - I was expressing deep gratitude to all the spiritual teachers, seen and unseen, who’ve helped bring me to this point in life.

It was deeply grounding. The humility required to do this wholeheartedly shifted something inside me. I wasn’t here as a founder, speaker, or mentor. I was here simply as a seeker - open, learning, grateful.

Shiva Pujan and Abhishekam (Approx. 30 mins)

With reverence firmly rooted in the space, we now turned our attention to the heart of the ceremony - the Shiva Pujan and Abhishekam. This was to be offered to Avadeshwar Mahadev, the central Shivling at the Mritunjay Mahadev Temple around which we had been seated throughout.

This was no ordinary Shivling. The Avadeshwar Shivling rests within a shallow, lowered marble platform, encircled by a low wall. We remained seated throughout the puja, surrounding the sacred form like quiet rivers of intent converging on their source. The act of sitting, not standing, was significant - it reflected reverence, humility, and complete surrender.

We began by bathing the Shivling in a sequence of sacred elements. Panchamrit - a blend of milk, curd, honey, ghee, and sugar - was gently poured while mantras were chanted. This was followed by pure water from the Dhanvantari Well, an ancient healing well within the temple premises known for its curative properties. I was offered this water to drink as well, a symbolic internalisation of sacred energy.

Then came the decorations: the Shivling was lovingly adorned with fresh bilva leaves, durva grass, specific flowers, and vibhooti (holy ash). Dry bhang powder was also sprinkled - a traditional offering in Shiva worship, representing transcendence of worldly illusions. A white dhoti cloth and sacred threads were draped and tied across the Shivling with quiet care, turning it into a deeply adorned presence of divinity.

All through the puja, Pt. Shivam ji didn’t just chant - he explained. Each offering, each chant, each action had a meaning. And I was invited to connect, not just observe. To me, this wasn’t about mythology or orthodoxy - it was about anchoring myself in something timeless, silent, and incredibly powerful. In that moment, Shiva was not outside. He was right there - in the stillness I could now feel inside.

Nyas and Rudri Path (Approx. 30 mins)

As the Shiva Abhishekam concluded and the sacred form of Avadeshwar Mahadev stood beautifully adorned before us, we entered a deeply meditative stage - the Nyas and Rudri Path.

Nyas is the act of mentally placing divine energy into different parts of the body - a ritual of internalisation. Through mantras and specific hand movements, the Vedic energy of the Shiva consciousness was invoked and anchored within my own being. Pt. Shivam ji explained how this step transforms the sadhak from a mere witness into an active vessel of the divine. As each part of the body was symbolically infused - from the heart to the head, from the eyes to the hands - I felt increasingly centred. It was no longer about worshipping Shiva outside. It was about awakening Shiva within.

Then followed the recitation of the sacred Rudri Path - a chant from the Yajurveda that praises and invokes Lord Rudra in his many forms. The voices of the pundits rose in rhythmic unison, and their vibrations filled the air like a call that echoed across lifetimes. It wasn’t dramatic - it was steady, powerful, and full of surrender.

As I sat there with eyes half-closed, something began to shift inside me. The intensity of the sounds, the weight of the words, and the deep silence between the verses - all of it felt like it was cleansing old layers I didn’t even know I carried.

This part of the ceremony wasn’t loud or fiery - it was deep. Internal. A kind of spiritual anchoring that allowed me to sit taller, breathe easier, and feel ready for what was to come next.

Second Nyas and Uttar Pujan (Approx. 15 mins)

Following the profound stillness of the Rudri Path, we entered the second Nyas - a continuation of the inner sanctification. This time, the mantras were more specific to the energies invoked during the Rudram. Pt. Shivam ji explained that while the first Nyas was a general invocation of divine presence within the body, this second round helped stabilise those energies and integrate them more deeply.

I was guided to remain still and observe the energy shifts in my body. It wasn’t about dramatic experiences - it was subtle, like tuning into a quieter frequency within. My breath had slowed by now, and I felt less like I was “doing a puja” and more like I was becoming the puja.

Then came the Uttar Pujan, or the post-offering puja. This step is often overlooked, but Pt. Shivam ji gave it special importance. It is the respectful closure - a gentle acknowledgment to the deities, inviting them to now rest, and expressing gratitude for their presence during the rituals.

Offerings were made once again - flowers, sandal paste, and mantras of completion. But it wasn’t just a formality. In that quiet offering, I felt like I was honouring not just the divine, but the journey I had undertaken - from resistance to receptivity, from logic to surrender.

There was a sense of fullness now. As if the space had been transformed. But more importantly, so had I.

Havan and the Story of Svaha (Approx. 35 mins)

The final major ritual of the day was the Havan, or sacred fire offering - a culmination of everything that had been awakened through the earlier pujas. A small square havan kund was prepared near the Avadeshwar Shivling, and sacred fire was kindled using dried wood, cow ghee, and camphor.

The flames rose steadily, and with every offering, the pundits chanted Vedic mantras. Each offering - whether of rice, ghee, herbs, or samagri - was accompanied by the sacred invocation, "Svaha". At this point, Pt. Shivam ji paused and shared a beautiful insight that left a deep impression on me.

He explained that "Svaha" is not just a chant. Svaha is the name of a deity - the daughter of Lord Brahma. Though Brahma is rarely worshipped in temples, his daughter Svaha was granted an eternal role by Lord Shiva himself. Every offering to Agni (the fire deity) must be made in her name. That is why every ahuti - every act of giving - ends with “Svaha”. It is symbolic of surrendering with love and grace, not just as an obligation.

I found this revelation deeply moving. It reminded me that even in fire rituals, the feminine divine has a central role. And that every act of letting go must be done in grace - not resistance.

Durga Path, Aarti and Ashirwad (Approx. 20 mins)

As the sacred fire settled and silence returned to the space, we moved into the final offerings of the ceremony. The Durga Path was chanted - hymns invoking the fierce yet protective energy of Ma Durga, the divine mother who destroys ignorance and grants strength. This addition may seem unexpected in a Shiva-centric ceremony, but as Pt. Shivam ji explained, Durga’s presence brings balance. Where Shiva dissolves, Durga empowers. And as I stood at the threshold of the next phase of life, I needed both.

Following this, we sang the Aarti - a moment of celebration, of fullness. The ritual flame was circled before the Shivling as chants filled the temple. There were no guests, no applause, no garlands. But in that moment, my heart was full. The light of the Aarti felt like a mirror - gently revealing what had shifted within.

We then moved to the Ashirwad - the blessings

As the offerings continued during the puja and the fire blazed gently, I had felt strangely full and overwhelmed. There was so much to absorb. At one point, Pt. Shivam ji had sensed this and gently suggested we could pause and take a break. But I chose to carry on. I wanted to stay in the flow, knowing I’d have time to reflect later.

And I did - over the week that followed, I had many conversations with Pt. Shivam ji to revisit, understand, and internalise what had unfolded. He, too, encouraged me to sit with it for a week before even speaking about it. That advice was perfect - because the havan wasn’t an ending. It was the seal to a beginning.

Reflections, One Week Later

A full week has passed since that morning in Kashi. As Pt. Shivam Sharma ji had gently advised, I chose not to speak or share too soon. I let silence do its work. No social media posts. No storytelling. Just space - to feel, to process, to absorb. And only now do I feel ready to reflect.

Looking back, I am filled with deep gratitude - especially for having Pt. Shivam ji curate and guide this entire experience. His calm presence, his clarity, and the way he explained each ritual without ever sounding preachy or mechanical - it elevated everything. He made the invisible meaning behind the visible act come alive. I wasn’t just performing a ritual - I was internalising it.

That said, the week after the ceremony taught me other lessons too - ones I hadn’t anticipated.

The biggest? Physical recovery. I hadn’t prepared for just how demanding it would be to sit on the floor, cross-legged, without standing, for almost five hours. By the end of the ceremony, my back was stiff, and over the next two days, I needed long periods of rest - and sleep - just to feel normal again. It’s not something you think about when planning something so spiritual. But the body is also part of the experience. I now know: even a few weeks of practising seated posture in advance would’ve helped immensely.

I also realised I could’ve entered the ceremony with more awareness of what was to come. Though Pt. Shivam explained everything beautifully during the rituals, I now see how a little prior reading or research on the different pujas would’ve helped deepen my understanding. I don’t mean Googling endlessly - even just asking Shivam ji in advance what would be done and why. But somewhere, that old reluctance to question Pundits - the quiet reverence we grow up with - held me back. This ceremony helped me begin unlearning that.

As for keeping notes - I’d imagined I might jot down my thoughts during the experience. But I quickly realised: there’s no space for that. This isn’t a ritual you observe from a distance. You’re in it. Eyes, hands, ears - fully engaged. There’s no moment to pull out a notebook. And honestly, that’s how it should be. Reflection, I learnt, is not about capturing the moment. It’s about letting the moment capture you - and then allowing the meaning to rise quietly over time.

There’s one more thing I now realise in hindsight. I had handed over my phone to the junior Pundit to take photos and short videos - knowing I wouldn’t be able to manage it myself without disrupting my flow. He did manage to capture some moments, and I’m grateful for that. But looking back, I think I could’ve brought along a simple phone stand - placed it discreetly in a corner, and recorded the entire ceremony without being intrusive. Not for social media, but just for personal archiving. Watching it later could have helped relive and re-understand parts of it that went by in a blur.

And what emerged for me over this week is this: the Shashtiabdhapoorthi ceremony is not a closing. It’s an opening. A beginning. A quiet rebirth. The Vedas say human life is meant to span 120 years - and this moment, at sixty, marks the midpoint of that journey. I felt that truth. Something inside me has reset. Not in an explosive, dramatic way - but in the way a compass quietly realigns. I feel it. And I will walk with it.

And so, I move forward - not as someone who’s done something, but as someone who’s now becoming.

An Invitation to Those at a Turning Point

If you’re reading this and feel something stir - a pull, a pause, a quiet sense that maybe it’s time - then this is for you.

This journey to Kashi, this Shashtiabdhapoorthi ceremony, wasn’t just a ritual to mark turning sixty. It was something far deeper - a sacred pause, a reset, a chance to sit with life’s fullness and choose how I want to live the next phase with more clarity, purpose, and peace.

It didn’t happen in a hall. There was no show, no guest list, no performance. Just me, a few learned pundits, and a space curated intentionally - not just spiritually, but personally - by Pt. Shivam Sharma ji, one of the senior priests of the Kashi Vishwanath Temple.

While Saaiva was founded to promote Sanatan Dharma and it's heritage much before this ceremony, here I made a conscious choice to experience it myself - fully, honestly - before ever recommending it to anyone else. I didn’t want to suggest something I hadn’t gone through. And now that I have, I can say: it’s not just a ritual - it’s a return.

I don’t speak as a provider of spiritual services, but as a fellow seeker. Someone who spent decades running from the idea of rituals, only to find comfort, clarity, and purpose in them when done with the right intent and understanding.

If you're at a similar point - questioning, transitioning, or simply seeking - I’d be happy to talk. No agenda. Just a conversation. Just one traveller speaking with another.

You don’t need to be religious. You don’t need to know the mantras. You just need to arrive with honesty, and a willingness to sit with yourself.

Kashi will do the rest.