Kumbh mela 2025
The Night of the Last Day
Millions of Hindu pilgrims dressed in shades of mandarin, fuchsia, and watermelon plunge into the greenish waters, letting marigolds fall as a sign of devotion.
At dusk, a hypnotic music hovers over the crowd, and every day, at dawn, the singing begins again.
Throughout the labyrinthine tent city, the sound of chants and the scent of ritual fires fill the air.
This is the Kumbh Mela, the largest religious gathering on Earth.
Kumbh Mela means “festival of the sacred pitcher” in Sanskrit.
The story of the Kumbh Mela is rooted in the dawn of humanity, specifically in the episode of Samudra Manthan—the churning of the ocean—where gods and demons fought over the amrit, the nectar of immortality.
During the struggle, a few drops of the precious liquid fell into the rivers near the sacred cities of Prayagraj, Haridwar, Nasik, and Ujjain.
The Kumbh Mela (Purna) is held in these four cities every twelve years in rotation, every three years in one of them. The Ardh Kumbh Mela is held at two of these places every six years, and the Maha Kumbh Mela is celebrated only in Allahabad (now Prayagraj) every four cycles of the Purna Kumbh, roughly every 12 years.
For over a month, pilgrims from all over India bathe where the Ganges meets the Yamuna and the mythical Sarasvati rivers, “washing away” their sins.
They stay in makeshift camps that seem suspended in time.
A time undefined, remote, from centuries past.
They wait—everyone waits—on the expanse of sand and earth.
On these riverbanks, time does not matter.
In an eternal cycle, men and women face a long journey—slow, chaotic, and exhausting—to reach this sacred place and pray, carrying with them a pitcher, the same pitcher that, according to the myth, might contain the nectar of immortality.
They immerse themselves in the waters hoping to end, once and for all, the cycle of reincarnation.
And then, on the night of the last day, until the final prayer—despite everything—an infinite solitude remains: theirs, mine.
Luisa Briganti
