Diwali, caves and temples in Rishikesh:A time for reflection and spiritual growth

By: Hindumitra Karen Dabrowska, London, UK

Rishikesh is a magical place where silence speaks loudly, teaching the value of stillness and the art of listening. The sacred Ganges flows as it has from time immemorial — always the same, yet always different.

During Diwali, the city shimmers with celebration. Every lamp glowing from the houses and temples radiates joy, and the night sky bursts into colour — orange, red, and every shade of the rainbow — as fireworks paint the heavens.

The first day of Diwali, Dhanteras, began for me with a peaceful walk along the Ganges towpath to the FabIndia shop. There I bought two simple but elegant kurtas — one blue, one purple — each with a matching scarf. I’ve always believed that less is more.

Thushita told me that Dhanteras marks the birthday of the God of Ayurveda and was once a day devoted to well-being. Today, it has taken on a more commercial tone, with an emphasis on shopping and new acquisitions. Traditionally, people worship Lord Kuber and Goddess Lakshmi — deities of wealth — while observing the Pradosh fast. Gold, silver, and brass utensils gleam in the markets, symbols of prosperity and renewal.

That evening came the moment I love most — the Ganga Aarti, when the river is honoured with music, light, and devotion. The sight is hypnotic: lamps swung in perfect unison, flames dancing to the rhythm of powerful mantras that rise and swell with emotion. There are no “health and safety” rules here — paraffin-fed flames blaze close to the devotees. Across the still waters, hundreds of tiny lamps float gently downstream, carrying prayers and wishes. The Ram Jhula bridge glows with light, temples shimmer on the riverbanks, and the air hums with sacred energy.

It was also the day my phone died — a small worldly trial amid all the spiritual splendour. The charging port failed, and no one in Rishikesh or Dehradun could repair it. Eventually, I had to buy a new one, but that came with its own challenges: international cards weren’t accepted, and the ATM refused to cooperate. Om Prakash, ever kind, stepped in and paid for it, adding the amount to my accommodation bill. “A fitting Diwali purchase,” he said with a smile. Apparently, the phone shop made £2,000 in an hour that day — Diwali truly is a time for gifts.

Choti Diwali — the day to ward off evil — brought even louder fireworks and brighter skies. Orange and red flares exploded overhead, and everywhere people greeted each other with broad grins and cheerful cries of “Happy Diwali!” It was easy to imagine the joy of Ayodhya when Ram and Sita returned home in triumph.

At Om’s house, celebrations filled each day: morning and evening chants, devotional dancing for Krishna, and the creation of vivid rangoli patterns by Thushita, Om’s daughter. It seemed as though flowers were growing out of the tiles themselves.

Lighting the diyas was a delicate task — soaking the wicks in oil, balancing them just right, coaxing the flame to stay alive. One by one, they multiplied until the whole patio glowed with light. Thushita carried more upstairs, and soon the entire house shimmered. Sidharth began setting off fireworks, and the joyous bangs added their own rhythm to the night.

Beyond the celebrations, Rishikesh offered moments of deep peace. I visited the Vashishtha Guha (the Sage’s Cave), where one of the seven immortal sages once meditated. Surrounded by lush green hills, I also visited the Bal Kuwari and Vindhyawasin temples — each set amidst nature’s quiet grandeur. The drive itself was a meditation, passing small tea stalls where travellers paused to sip chai and absorb the stillness. Time seemed to slow; sunlight touched everything gently.

This was my fourth visit to Vashishtha Cave. The steep, winding path felt familiar. At the entrance stood Murli, a serene sadhu who once worked in IT in Hyderabad. Now devoted to the spiritual path, he smiled softly and said, “Read the Gita.” His peacefulness seemed to radiate from within. Along the way, monkeys watched playfully from the trees, and a small cow sanctuary marked the sacred ground. A modest sign reminded visitors: “It is dangerous to swim or bathe in the Ganges. The ashram will not be responsible for any consequences.”

The cave, tended by Swami Purusottamanand since 1928, still carries an ageless stillness. I arrived at opening time, 8 a.m., to sit alone before the small altar and portrait of the Swami. Time dissolved — it felt like returning to the beginning of creation. Nearby, the smaller Arundhati Cave, named for Vashishtha’s wife, offers a single space for one devotee to sit in silence and gaze at the river below.

When I emerged, Murli greeted me again and handed me a book — Gnandodayam, his own translation and publication. He told me, with quiet resignation, that the government had demolished the simple hut he once built by the Ganges — a dream I had helped support. But he was undeterred; soon he would move deep into the Himalayas, this time with a small plot of land and a mobile phone.

Climbing the 400 steps to the Bal Kuwari Temple, dedicated to Goddess Durga, tested my stamina but rewarded me with breathtaking mountain views. The temple, modest yet powerful, is said to bless families and bring peace to the heart. Each rest stop on the climb offered a chance to pause, breathe, and reflect.

The Vindhyawasin Temple lies deeper in the Rajaji Tiger Reserve, reached by jeep across shallow streams and forest trails. Though tigers are rarely seen, deer graze calmly nearby. A short climb leads to a small shrine overlooking the mountains — the perfect place to meditate. The caretaker of the temple, delighted by my small donation, wrote me a receipt with great formality, as though it were a sacred act in itself.

A local legend tells of a young monk, just twelve years old, who came to meditate in the Rajaji forest many decades ago. He found shelter in a cave already occupied by a wild bear. Remarkably, they developed a peaceful understanding — the monk meditated by day while the bear rested in the cave, and each evening, the bear would leave, returning only at dawn. Their quiet companionship continued until the end of their days, a testament to the harmony between nature and spirit.

Before climbing, I stopped for tea and biscuits at a makeshift café, its water drawn ingeniously from the stream.

Rishikesh is always my first stop in India — peaceful, humble, and timeless. It welcomes me back like an old friend, and each visit reminds me that light, in all its forms, always finds a way to shine.

About the author:

Hindumitra Karen Dabrowska lives in London, UK. She first became interested in Sanatana Dharma in 2020 after reading Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda. In 2022 she visited Babaji’s cave where Yogananda’s master was initiated into kriya yoga. She found India an enchanting, fascinating and welcoming country which she has been visiting twice a year since 2022. She then visited Rishikesh and in it the Vasishtha Cave home of Vasishtha one of the seven immortal saints. In February 2025 she felt it to be a great honor to go to the kumbh mela a very personal spiritual experience shared with millions of people. In her own words "I felt I was part of one gigantic family and we all embarked on a pilgrimage together."

In 2023 she listened to a talk at Laxmi Narayan Temple in West London by Hindumitra Dr Malladi Srinivasa Sastry, founder of Hindumitra Foundation, and was inspired by his clear presentation of the concepts of Sanatana Dharma. The talk was a condensed version of his ten-lesson course “Bring out the best in you – the Sanatana Dharma way” which she studied online. She kept in touch with Dr Malladi by email and WhatsApp and when he heard that she was planning to visit south India in January this year she was invited to Visakhapatnam to see the activities of Hindumitra. There was a fascinating visit to Dimili village where young people gave a performance of traditional dancing and art forms. Hindumitra is keen to promote the preservation of cultural traditions. She also took part in a major Hindumitra event with the theme the world is one family in Visakhapatnam public library where Hindumitra Karen ji spoke about her spiritual journey with Sanatana dharma. The programme attended by over 100 people was very full with a discussion about Hindu parenting and folk culture performances and demonstrations. Residing in UK, Hindumitra Karen ji actively contributes to the spiritual work of Hindumitra and is currently attending weekly classes on Bhagavatam by Hindumitra Dr. Malladi Srinivasa Sastry.