Some journeys in life are carefully planned, mapped, and executed with precision. And then there are others — the ones that unfold mysteriously, as if guided by an unseen hand. What began for me as a simple trip between 20 August and 22 September 2025 turned into something far greater than I could have imagined: a yatra shaped not by my plans, but by the will of the Guru, Ganesh, and the Mother Goddess themselves.
I had originally thought of visiting the Ashtavinayak temples on 24 and 25 August before the beginning of Ganesh gestival. But even before that, the journey had already begun in ways I hadn’t anticipated.
Yamai of Shivari: The Opening Call
I found myself at Shivari, standing before Yamai Devi, one of my kuldevis. Her temple was on the way and we simply decided to stop for a bit. I hadn’t planned to visit her at all, but she called me, and how could I refuse? I realized then that my journey was not going to follow my ideas, but hers.
Ashtavinayak and Beyond
On 24 August, I began the Ashtavinayak circuit and had the privilege of offering water abhishek to Moreshwar, the first temple of Ganapati Bappa we visited. It's a rare chance that comes only once a year for 5 consecutive days of the Hindu month of Bhadrapad. I was totally unaware of this tradition until I reached there and saw a huge queue. Then, I enquired why it was so crowded while chatting with a few locals and learnt about the tradition. We visited five temples on that day and stayed at Ozar that night. On the 25th of August, we headed towards Lenyadri, followed by Mahad and Pali.
In between these sacred Ganesh temples, another thread was woven into my journey. I went to my native place, Nimgaon Mhalungi and visited the temple of Mhasoba, one of our clan deities. I realised on the way to Ranjangaon that it was nearby and decided to visit. It felt grounding to bow before him amidst this larger Ganesh yatra. The Ashtavinayak darshan was fulfilling, yet the journey kept opening new doors.
Kanifnath and Narayanpur: A Guru’s Blessing
On 28 August, after Ganesh festival had just begun, I had intended to go to Narayanpur, the abode of Shri Dattatreya. I shared the ride with two other people who wanted to visit Narayanpur. But my travel companions that day also wanted to visit the Kanifnath temple, so we went there first. Unexpectedly, I was blessed with Mahaprasad. It was becoming a pattern: grace arriving unasked, reminding me that the Guru feeds his devotees in ways we don’t anticipate.
Later, I did go to Narayanpur, and here something very special unfolded yet again. It was a Thursday, the Guru’s own day, and I worried that I might not even get darshan due to the usual heavy crowds. But when I reached, the entire temple was seated, listening to a spiritual discourse.
I wasn’t focused on the it, but I quietly began chanting the Guru’s name. From where I stood in a corner, I had a perfect line of sight of the Ekmukhi Datta murti’s face. For the next 45 minutes, while the pravachan continued, I simply gazed at my Guru’s face and chanted his name. That uninterrupted darshan was his blessing to me. I thanked him silently for his guidance, his grace, and his presence throughout my journey.
Satyanarayan Puja: Grace at Home
On 31 August, I was blessed to participate in a Satyanarayan Puja that we hold each year during Ganesh festival. It felt like the sacred rhythm of the temples had followed me home. To sit in that puja, amidst chanting and offerings, was yet another reminder that devotion doesn’t only live in great pilgrimages — it also blossoms in the intimate space of one’s home.
Wadebolai: A Timely Arrival
On 3 September, while Ganesh festival was still on, I went to Wadebolai and visited the Bolai temple, another one of my kuldevis. Here again, grace arranged everything perfectly. Without knowing the timing, I reached just before noon, and at 12 o’clock, the sacred olanda offering was made. I received it without planning — yet another unexpected privilege. There's a humble shrine of Khandoba a few metres from the Bolai temple. I visited it on the way back. I also kept visiting the Chatturshrungi temple and Khinditla Ganapati on and off during Ganesh festival 2025.
I felt perhaps this was the conclusion of my temple run. Some friends and relatives told me that Pitru Paksha was starting from 8 September, after which pilgrimages are traditionally avoided. So I thought it was time to rest. But deep within, I felt something incomplete: I had not yet visited my most primary kuladevatas — Tulja Bhavani of Tuljapur and Khandoba of Jejuri.
Tuljapur: The Mother Revealed
The goddess had other plans! I did some online research and learnt that one can still visit temples to pray for the souls of departed ancestors. In spite of the warnings, I booked my travel and reached Tuljapur on 8 September. That evening, I had darshan of Tulja Bhavani Maa in her full shringar. She looked resplendent — dazzling in silks, ornaments, and flowers. Yet, a thought stirred in me: How does she look behind all this adornment, in her raw and original form?
After darshan, I also visited a Kalbhairava temple nearby — he too is counted among our clan deities. Offering my pranams there felt like fulfilling another hidden thread of duty.
The next morning, before leaving Tuljapur, I felt drawn to go back once more. To my astonishment, the morning abhishek was taking place. The Devi was without her shringar, revealed in her simplest, truest form. I stood there for two to three minutes, overwhelmed. I offered a saree I had brought as an ooti on behalf of my wife, and then stepped aside.
Someone who had done the abhishek was holding a pot of tirtha. I humbly requested some and received a spoonful. Standing then before a screen through which I could see the Goddess’s idol inside, tears began to flow from my eyes. It wasn’t planned, it wasn’t forced — it was her will, her shakti moving through me. I knew I had been blessed.
Jejuri: The Feet of Khandoba
From Tuljapur, the path led me to Jejuri on 11 September. I went alone by bus, climbed the steps, and had darshan of Khandoba. Until then, I never knew Mahaprasad was served there too, but suddenly an announcement rang out: all those who had done darshan were welcome to partake. Again, without expectation, I was fed at the feet of the deity.
But Jejuri held one more lesson. I had left my slippers at a stand, and after darshan, I exited from a different gate. By the time I realized it, I was far from the main entrance. The road was rough, stones pricked my bare feet, and at places, the ground was burning hot. I ran when it burned, walked when I could, but all the while, I kept my trust in Guru, Ganesh, and the Mother Goddess. Eventually, I bought a new pair of slippers and boarded the bus back to Pune. It felt like Khandoba himself had given me a taste of surrender and humility — reminding me that a yatra is not always about comfort, but about walking with faith. After this visit, I decided to continue visiting Khinditla Ganapati and the Chatturshrungi temple on and off during Pitru Pakasha, without any doubts.
Mandardevi: The Final Call
I thought that was the end of my temple run. To amuse myself, I even said, “Now I’ll just have a fun Mahabaleshwar trip with my friends.” We went, spent the night at a hotel, and I believed the sacred chapter had closed.
But once again, the Goddess had other plans. The next day, a friend casually asked, “Have you seen the Mandardevi temple?” I had been there as a child but remembered little. He suggested visiting, and everyone agreed. Though she is not among my kuldevis, I felt an instant pull — she is still Jagdamba, another form of the Mother.
When we reached, the temple was quiet, free of crowds because many avoid such visits during Pitru Paksha. The darshan was calm, intimate, and full of peace. I bowed before her, filled with gratitude. It felt as though Guru, Ganesh, and the Mother Goddess were telling me: You thought the journey was over, but we wanted to give you just one more blessing.
Reflections: A Yatra Not My Own
Looking back, I see clearly that this was not my pilgrimage — it was theirs. I may have thought of dates, places, and plans, but the true journey was directed by divine hands.
- Lord Ganesha removed the obstacles in my journey and fulfilled my spiritual desires.
- I stood before the Guru at Narayanpur for 45 uninterrupted minutes, gazing and chanting in silence.
- I received Mahaprasad again and again, without seeking it.
- I had darshan of Tulja Bhavani in two moods — adorned and unadorned, both majestic and raw.
- I was guided to my clan deities — Yamai, Bolai, Mhasoba, Bhairava, Tulja Bhavani, and Khandoba — as if ticking off an inner list I didn’t even know I carried.
- Even when I thought it had ended, Mandardevi called me once more.
The whole yatra was a lesson in surrender: that when the Guru, Ganesh, and the Mother Goddess take charge, all one can do is follow, receive, and be grateful.
And so I conclude this journey not as a record of places visited, but as a testimony of grace — an unplanned yatra, woven not by me, but by the Divine.
Jai Guru Datta. Jai Shri Ganesh. Jai Jagdamba. Jai Malhari Martand.