NEPAL Part 2.... MUKTINATH....MANAKAMANA....

Nepal Diaries – Part 2: From the Plains of Chitwan to the Sacred Heights of Muktinath

After exploring Kathmandu, our journey continued towards Chitwan and then onward to Mukti Nath, nestled within the breathtaking Annapurna circuit in the Mustang region of Nepal. As we traveled north, the majestic Himalayan peaks Dhaulagiri and Annapurna accompanied us like silent guardians, while the mighty Kali Gandaki River flowed alongside, guiding our path through the rugged mountain landscape.

Along the Beni–Jomsom Highway, we stopped at the spectacular Rupse Falls. The sight of the cascading water plunging down the rocky cliffs, combined with the cool mist that filled the air, offered a refreshing break and a memorable glimpse of Nepal's natural beauty.

By evening, we reached Jomsom, a charming mountain town known for its hiking lodges and modest hotels that cater to trekkers and pilgrims alike. We spent the night there under the watchful gaze of the Annapurna range, whose snow-capped peaks glowed softly against the evening sky.

The next morning, excitement filled the air as we prepared for our journey to Muktinath. The Nepal government has developed a good road connecting Jomsom and Muktinath, making travel easier for pilgrims and visitors. As we ascended through the rugged terrain, anticipation grew with every turn of the road.

Muktinath holds a special place in the hearts of Hindus. It is one of the 108 Divya Desams (Vishnu temples recognized by the Alwars – the 12 divine Vaishnava saints), the sacred shrines revered in the Vaishnav tradition. Growing up, our parents often spoke about Muktinath with great devotion, but they never had the opportunity to visit. As my sister Nirmala and I approached this holy destination, we felt deeply moved, knowing that we were fulfilling a dream they had cherished for many years.

The sacred site is equally important to Buddhists and devotees of Shakti traditions, making it a unique spiritual destination where different faiths meet in harmony. Situated at an elevation of about 3,800 meters (12,500 feet) above sea level, Muktinath stands amidst an awe-inspiring landscape of mountains and open skies.

We offered our prayers and worshipped the deities with gratitude and reverence. It was a bright, sunny day, and the distant mountain peaks shimmered against the clear blue sky. The atmosphere was filled with devotion as pilgrims from various places gathered to seek blessings. Standing there, we felt grateful to the divine power that had guided us thus far, and to the sages, gurus, and ancestors whose wisdom continues to illuminate our paths. For a few moments, we simply absorbed the peace of the mountains and the serenity of our surroundings.

Our next destination was the revered Manakamana Devi Temple in Nepal's Gorkha District. Perched atop Kafakdada Hill at an elevation of about 1,300 meters (4,300 feet), the temple is dedicated to the Mother Goddess believed to grant the heartfelt wishes of her devotees.

To reach the temple, we boarded the famous Manakamana Cable Car for a thrilling ride of nearly two kilometers from the valley floor to the hilltop. As the cable car glided above forests, rivers, and villages, we enjoyed sweeping views of the surrounding landscape.

At the top, we climbed a series of stone steps leading to the temple square. Small shops lined the pathway, displaying colorful baskets filled with flowers, fruits, and offerings for worshippers. The vibrant atmosphere added to the spiritual charm of the place.

We offered our prayers to Mother Goddess Manakamana Devi and spent time observing the temple traditions. Groups of devotees sang devotional songs praising the Goddess, creating a joyful and uplifting atmosphere. The temple preserves the ancient Gorkha traditions of worship, where offerings may include flowers, sweets, and, in accordance with longstanding customs, animal sacrifices by some devotees.

After completing our visit, we made our way back toward the cable car station. Along the path, we treated ourselves to hot vegetarian momos and a comforting cup of chiya, Nepal's delicious, spiced tea. The simple meal tasted especially wonderful in the cool mountain air.

As we descended the hill by cable car, we looked back at the temple and the beautiful landscape around us. Our hearts were filled with gratitude, peace, and renewed energy. The journey had brought us through magnificent mountains, sacred temples, and moments of deep reflection. As we continued our travels, we silently thanked the cosmic forces that had guided and blessed our path through this remarkable land.

 

                                                     PEACE ON EARTH

All content copyright © by Sobana Iyengar.

NEPAL Part 1.... KATHMANDU....HIMALAYAS....

Nepal Diaries – Part 1 - Sacred Evenings by the Bagmati River

There are some journeys that remain in memory not because of grand adventures, but because of the quiet spiritual moments that unexpectedly touch the soul. Our trip to Kathmandu was one such experience — a beautiful blend of devotion, mythology, history, and serenity.

Nepal guarded by the mighty Himalayas is a land locked country where nature rules.

 We stayed at Hotel Mahadev, nestled on the banks of the serene Bagmati River. The gentle sound of the flowing river and the peaceful temple atmosphere immediately slowed life down. Kathmandu felt ancient and alive at the same time — every narrow street, every prayer bell, and every incense-filled courtyard carried centuries of faith.

 As evening approached, we visited the sacred Guhyeshwari Temple, one of the revered Shakti Peethas. The temple radiated divine energy, and devotees moved quietly in prayer and reverence. From there, we walked nearly a kilometer toward the magnificent Pashupatinath Temple.

 

The evening Aarathi at Pashupatinath was unlike anything I had experienced before. In Varanasi and Haridwar, the Ganga Aarathi unfolds gracefully on the riverbanks. But here in Kathmandu, the ceremony takes place within the vast temple courtyard itself, creating a completely different atmosphere.

 

The rhythmic chants echoed through the temple grounds. Priests moved in synchronized devotion holding glowing oil lamps that illuminated the dusk. The fragrance of incense filled the cool evening air while devotees stood silently absorbed in prayer. For a few moments, time itself seemed to disappear. The chants, the lamps, and the collective devotion transported me into another world entirely.

 

The next morning, we returned to Pashupatinath Temple for darshan. The temple complex is deeply layered with history, legends, and sacred symbolism. One of the memorable experiences was worshipping the thousand lingas — each one representing centuries of unwavering faith.

 

Photography is not permitted inside the temple complex, and strangely, that restriction became a blessing. Without the distraction of cameras and phones, there was more time to truly observe — the ancient sculptures tucked into quiet alcoves, the intricate carvings weathered by time, the rituals performed with devotion, and the expressions of pilgrims lost in prayer. It became an experience of introspection rather than documentation.

 

Later that afternoon, we visited the beautiful Budhanilkantha Temple, also known as the Jal Narayan Temple. The massive reclining Vishnu statue floating in a pond was mesmerizing in its calmness and grandeur.

 

Local legends surrounding the statue are fascinating. One version says the royal family of Nepal avoided visiting the deity because unfortunate events were believed to follow the royals there. Another interpretation suggests that the ancient statue is actually Avalokiteshwara, worshipped by Buddhists.

 

What touched me most was how naturally Hinduism and Buddhism coexist in Nepal. Though Nepal is predominantly Hindu, Buddhism is equally nourished and respected. Temples, traditions, art, and beliefs beautifully intertwine, creating a spiritual harmony rarely seen elsewhere. Throughout Kathmandu, one can witness this remarkable amalgamation of two great religions born in the Indian subcontinent.

 Nepal did not feel like merely a destination. It felt like stepping into a living spiritual tapestry woven with legends, devotion, and timeless faith. Our next destination is Mukthinath.....

                                                    PEACE ON EARTH

All content copyright © by Sobana Iyengar.

Easter Island Part 2...Rano Kau...Ahu Vinapu...

The morning began with excitement to see the volcanic crater

We drove upward toward Rano Kau, the extinct volcano rising dramatically above the southwestern edge of the island. As we ascended, the landscape opened wide—rolling green slopes, rugged coastline, and the vast, endless Pacific pressing against black volcanic cliffs.

 At the summit, the view took my breath away.

 

The crater of Rano Kau is immense, its circular walls sheltering a freshwater lake carpeted with floating reeds. It felt ancient and untouched, like a hidden world within a world. From this vantage point, the island’s geological story became visible, formed by volcanic eruptions hundreds of thousands of years ago, shaped by wind, sea, and time. Rapa Nui is small, yet from here it feels monumental.

 

Nearby lies Orongo, the ceremonial village perched dramatically along the crater’s edge. Stone houses with low entrances sit close to the earth, built to withstand fierce ocean winds. This was the center of the Tangata Manu, or Birdman competition—an annual ritual that replaced the moai-building era after social upheaval and environmental decline.

 

In this ceremony, warriors from different clans would descend the cliffs, swim through shark-infested waters to the nearby islet of Motu Nui, and wait for the first egg of the sooty tern bird. The first to return with an intact egg secured sacred power for his clan’s leader for a year. It was a test of endurance, courage, and divine favor.

 

Petroglyphs carved into the stones still remain—birdmen, deities, symbols of fertility and strength. Standing there, overlooking the three offshore islets, I felt the intensity of a culture that adapted when its world changed. Rapa Nui did not disappear when the moai era ended; it transformed.

 

We continued to Ahu Vinapu, where the stonework is strikingly precise. The fitted basalt slabs resemble Incan masonry, sparking ongoing debate among archaeologists about possible connections or parallel ingenuity. The island still guards its mysteries carefully.

 

At Ahu Akivi, seven moai stand proudly in the center of the island. Unlike most statues that face inland, these look outward toward the ocean. According to legend, they represent the seven explorers sent ahead by King Hotu Matu’a before settlement. Symbolically, they gaze toward the horizon—as if still watching for arrivals. Their placement feels intentional, almost contemplative.

 

From there, we visited Puna Pau, the small quarry where the red scoria stone was carved into pukao—the distinctive topknots or headdresses placed atop many moai. The deep red color contrasts beautifully against the green hills. These pukao likely represented hair tied in a traditional topknot, signifying status and mana (spiritual power).

 

Later, we returned to Tahai, a ceremonial complex of three restored ahu, remnants of ancient boathouses, and a boat ramp once used for fishing canoes. Here stands the only moai with restored coral eyes—white coral and obsidian pupils giving it a strikingly human presence. The eyes were believed to activate the statue’s mana, transforming it from stone into a living spiritual guardian.

As the sun began to lower, the moai stood silhouetted against the glowing sky. The Pacific shimmered in soft gold. It was not dramatic—it was reverent.

 The next morning, I walked quietly along the beach, breathing in the tropical scents carried by the breeze—salt, flowers, warm earth. The island felt gentler now, familiar.  And then came a moment I did not expect.

 On February 1st, my tour group surprised me with a birthday celebration. Beneath the island sky, surrounded by new friendships and ancient stones, they gathered and sang. Our guide taught everyone to sing “Happy Birthday” in Spanish—Feliz cumpleaños a ti… Their voices rose together, warm and joyful.  It was simple. It was unforgettable.

 To celebrate a birthday in one of the most remote places on Earth felt symbolic—another quiet reminder of how small we are, yet how deeply connected.

 Final Reflection

 Rapa Nui is often described through its mystery—the moai, the isolation, the unanswered questions. But what stayed with me most was not the mystery. It was the resilience.

This island has known flourishing and collapse, devotion and conflict, colonization and survival. Its people endured slave raids, disease, displacement, and cultural suppression—yet today, the Rapa Nui language, festivals, and ancestral pride continue.

From Santiago’s watchful mountains to Valparaíso’s painted hills, and finally to this volcanic outpost in the Pacific, Chile revealed itself as a land of endurance. Landscapes here are dramatic, but it is the human spirit that feels most powerful. Standing before the moai, I did not see relics of a vanished world. I saw witnesses. In their stillness, I felt both history and hope.

 Rapa Nui does not shout its lessons. It lets the wind carry them slowly to you.

                                           

                                                         PEACE ON EARTH

All content copyright © by Sobana Iyengar.

Easter Island Part 1....Rapa Nui....Moai....

We were filled with a quiet thrill as we boarded our flight to Rapa Nui, a place that has lived in imagination long before it is seen. Suspended in the vastness of the Pacific Ocean, nearly 3,700 kilometers from mainland Chile, Easter Island is one of the most remote inhabited places on Earth. 

 Before landing, we were reminded of the island’s fragility. Strict regulations prohibit bringing outside plants, fruits, or organic materials, protecting the delicate ecosystem and native flora that have endured centuries of change. It was a gentle introduction to the island’s deeper truth: survival here has always depended on balance.

At the airport, our guide welcomed us with fragrant frangipani garlands, their sweetness carried by the ocean breeze. It was a gesture that felt ancient and generous. We settled into Taha Tai Hotel, a serene resort resting quietly along the Pacific shore. The ocean stretched endlessly before us, rhythmic and eternal. The island was preparing for its annual Tapati Rapa Nui festival, a celebration of ancestral traditions—music, dance, body painting, and storytelling. The air carried anticipation. Culture here is not archived; it is lived.

 

That evening, we walked to a nearby vantage point to see our first moai at Tahai. One stood with coral eyes restored—gazing inland, watchful. Seeing the eyes gave the statue presence. It no longer felt like stone; it felt alive.

 The moai were carved between the 13th and 16th centuries by the island’s Polynesian ancestors, believed to have arrived around 800–1200 AD after long ocean voyages guided only by stars and currents. These settlers formed clans, and each clan erected moai to honor their ancestors. The statues were not idols, but embodiments of lineage and spiritual authority. Facing inland, they symbolically protected their people.

 Standing before them, I felt the weight of devotion and craftsmanship. Some statues rise over 30 feet tall and weigh more than 70 tons—yet they were carved with stone tools and transported without wheels. Even today, the exact methods remain partly a mystery, though theories suggest they were “walked” upright using ropes.

 

The next day unfolded like stepping through chapters of history.  We visited the ancient ceremonial platforms known as ahu—stone structures built to support the moai. At Ahu Vaihu, near the bay of Hanga Te’e, fallen statues lay scattered, as if time itself had paused mid-collapse. Many moai were toppled during periods of internal conflict in the 17th and 18th centuries, when clan rivalries replaced cooperation.

 

At Akahanga, tradition holds that King Hotu Matu’a, the legendary founding ancestor of Rapa Nui, is buried. According to oral history, he led the first settlers from a mythical homeland called Hiva. Whether legend or memory, his story anchors the island’s identity. Then we arrived at Rano Raraku, the quarry that feels like the island’s beating heart. Nearly 900 moai were carved here from volcanic tuff, and around 397 still remain—half-buried in the slopes of the extinct volcano. Some stand upright, others lie unfinished, as though the carvers simply stepped away. Walking among them felt surreal. Faces emerging from earth. Time suspended.

 

 

From there, we stood before Ahu Tongariki, the largest restored ceremonial platform on the island. Fifteen towering moai rise in a line against the vast Pacific, re-erected after being toppled and later destroyed by a 1960 tsunami triggered by a Chilean earthquake. The restoration, completed in the 1990s, stands as a testament not only to archaeology, but to cultural resilience.

 Ahu Te Pito Kura - Navel of the earth

On the east coast, we visited Ahu Te Pito Kura, home to a rounded magnetic stone known as the “Navel of the World.” Legend says it was brought by Hotu Matu’a himself. Whether myth or geology, the stone radiates symbolism—Rapa Nui as both isolated and central, small yet cosmically connected.

 

Our final stop that day was Anakena Beach. Soft white sand curved along turquoise water—a striking contrast to the island’s rugged volcanic terrain. Here stands Ahu Nau Nau, with beautifully preserved moai, and nearby Ature Huke, the first statue to be re-erected in modern times (1950s), marking the beginning of restoration efforts.

 

Anakena is also believed to be the landing place of the first Polynesian settlers. Standing there, feeling the warm Pacific waters against my feet, I imagined their arrival—after weeks at sea, guided only by stars. Courage, faith, and endurance carried them here.

 

Rapa Nui’s history is layered with brilliance and tragedy. Once home to a thriving society, the island later faced deforestation, resource depletion, internal conflict, European contact in 1722 (Easter Sunday, giving the island its colonial name), slave raids in the 1860s, and devastating population decline. Yet the Rapa Nui people remain. Their language, traditions, and pride endure.

 As the sun lowered over Anakena, I felt humbled. These stones are not relics of a lost civilization. They are witnesses—to ambition, faith, collapse, survival, and revival.  Rapa Nui does not simply show you history. It asks you to reflect on humanity itself.  

                                      PEACE ON EARTH

All content copyright © by Sobana Iyengar.