My Heartbreaking Near-Darshan Experience at Kedarnath: A Journey Beyond the Physical

Shivoham Path
Aug 29, 2025
4 min read

Updated: Aug 31, 2025

The Unexpected Call to Kedarnath

In May-June 2019, while living in Bangalore, I was at a crossroads, torn between the material and the spiritual, academia and asceticism. After intense mystical experiences at the 12 Jyotirlinga temple in Bangalore, I had chosen Bhakti over renunciation, deciding to continue life as a householder while keeping my devotion alive.

I was applying for a Ph.D. in Delhi and had an upcoming interview. As I browsed the map, thinking about my itinerary in Delhi, my eyes suddenly locked onto Kedarnath. Something clicked inside me, a magnetic pull so strong that in that instant, I knew I had to go. I had never planned it, never thought about it, but suddenly, the journey felt inevitable.

I left for Delhi, solo traveling for the first time. My stay at a hostel, my first experience of complete freedom, and my realization that life could be both sacred and wild, all of it shaped what was about to come. I danced, I enjoyed, and yet, I was about to embark on the most sacred pilgrimage of my life.

Reaching Haridwar – The First Test

When I arrived in Haridwar, I had no bookings, no reservations, and no plan. Kedarnath was swarming with pilgrims – it was peak Char Dham season. Every bus to Sonprayag (the last motorable stop before Kedarnath) was fully booked.

I went to the GMOU bus office, the only operators running buses to Kedarnath. I asked if they had any seat left for tomorrow morning but they said everything was booked solid.

I stood there, thinking. I was alone, a young woman in an unknown land, determined to reach Shiva’s home. Maybe that determination reached the bus operator, because he suddenly looked at me and asked:

“Can you sit in the cabin?”

I didn’t know what the cabin was, but I didn’t care.

“I’ll sit anywhere! I’ll even sit on the roof, just take me!” I said.

He smiled and said, “Come tomorrow morning at 5:30 AM.”

The next morning, I reached the bus stand before dawn. Miraculously, someone didn’t show up, and I got a front-row VIP seat – something people would fight for.

Shiva had already begun paving the way.

The Road to Kedarnath – Mountains, Rivers & a Divine Feeling

The 8-hour journey from Haridwar to Sonprayag was nothing short of divine cinema. The Mandakini river flowed on one side, Himalayan mountains rose on the other, and the closer we got to Kedarnath, the more surreal it felt.

As we neared our destination, I saw snow-clad peaks, cloud-kissed summits, and the powerful force of nature that makes one feel so small. This was the land where Shiva’s presence is not felt in temples, but in the very air, the rocks, the rivers.

By the time we reached Sonprayag, night had fallen. The place was so crowded that finding a place to sleep was impossible.

I ended up sleeping in a shed, crammed with 20–25 other people, wrapped in a sketchy blanket. It was the most uncomfortable sleep of my life – but I didn’t care. I was one step closer to Shiva.

The 16 KM Trek & Losing My Phone

At 2–3 AM, we began the 16 km trek to Kedarnath. My backpack weighed around 15–17 kg, nearly half my body weight (35 kg). I wasn’t carrying just clothes – I was carrying my faith, my surrender, my absolute determination to reach Him.

But just as the trek began, I lost my phone.

At first, I panicked. But then a strange peace settled over me. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be part of this journey. Maybe Shiva wanted me fully present.

I let go of the phone and kept walking.

The Trek That Broke My Body But Not My Soul

The Kedarnath trek is no ordinary trek. It’s steep, relentless, and unforgiving.

Every 10 steps, you feel like you might collapse. Every breath is labored.

I ate almost nothing, drank almost no water. It felt like a natural fast, a purification process. I was pushing my body to its limits.

After 10+ hours of climbing, my body gave up. I could feel nothing but exhaustion and pain.

I Reached Kedarnath… But I Never Saw Him

By the time we reached Kedarnath, it was nightfall again. We stayed in a tent at -5°C. I had no proper winter clothes, just a thin jacket.

My body was shutting down. I couldn’t move, couldn’t walk, couldn’t function.

At one point, I entered a random tent, looking for help. Inside were four men.

I should have been scared. But instead, I felt protected. They weren’t ordinary men. One of them, a much older man gave me a tablet and told me to rest.

I fell asleep there, feeling like I was being watched over.

The next morning, I was just minutes away from the temple. I could see it.

But I never got darshan.

My body refused to move further. The exhaustion, the altitude, the days of strain – it had won.

And just then, those four men said:

“We are going back to UP via Rishikesh. Come with us.”

I hesitated. “But I haven’t seen Him yet.”

One of them smiled and said:

“You have. The journey itself was the darshan. The devotion is what matters – not a fleeting moment inside a temple.”

I had no choice. I was too weak to return alone. So I left Kedarnath without seeing Him.

The Realization – Shiva Was There All Along

As I rode the pony down the steep slopes, I felt an ache – not just in my body, but in my soul.

But something shifted inside me.

The journey itself was the darshan.
The pain, the endurance, the surrender – that was Shiva.
The random kindness from strangers – that was His presence.

And then it hit me:

Kedarnath is not a temple. It is a test.

It is a place that breaks you, humbles you, forces you to confront your limits, and then shows you that Shiva was never waiting inside – He was walking with you all along.