Kedarnath closing ceremony: A Journey Through Faith and Tears
Some journeys don’t just stay on the map; they make a place in your heart forever. My trek to the Kedarnath Closing Ceremony was one such journey. It wasn’t just about reaching Kedarnath; it was about saying goodbye, about faith, and about feeling something so deeply that I was almost short of words.
Trust me, this is not just another travel story. This is about the Kedarnath Closing Ceremony. It was a day filled with prayers, silence, tears, and the kind of peace that you can only get here.
I Wasn’t Ready
We all know, saying goodbye isn’t easy. But that morning, when I stood at Gaurikund with my backpack and trekking stick, I suddenly realized that I was about to say goodbye to the supreme; someone far greater than I could ever imagine.
I whispered to myself, “Saying goodbye isn’t easy… aur aaj toh main swayam Mahadev ko hi goodbye kehne aaya hoon.”
The chill in the air was sharp. It was the kind that seeped through my bones. But I wasn’t shivering because of the cold, but it was because of the thought – in just a few hours, Baba Kedarnath would be locked away for six long months! The doors of the temple would close, and His divine presence would move to Ukhimath.
Every step I took after that moment, I was scared. The trek ahead wasn’t just a climb. I was having a conversation with the divine.
Our trek begins
We started well before dawn. The tiny street lights were slicing through the mountain mist. The sound of the Mandakini River, flowing along, echoed like a prayer. I saw everyone walking with purpose. Some were barefoot, some on ponies, and some, like me, were taking slow, deliberate steps.
The trail was lined with a lot of small stalls selling chai, pakoras, and memories. But most of them were already getting closed for the season. The shopkeepers greeted us with folded hands and warm smiles, saying, “Jai Baba Kedar! Aakhri din hai, bhaiya!”
Those words hit hard. The last day. The final darshan.
After 3 hours of trekking, we reached Rambada, the halfway point. I took a deep breath and recorded a quick video clip for my vlog:
“Chalte chalte hum pahunch gaye hain Rambada. We are almost halfway through aur yahan aane ke liye hume lage hai 3 ghante. Yahan se Kedarnath hai around 9 km aur hum 1 baje tak pahunch jayenge Baba ke darbar mein.”
It wasn’t exhaustion I felt, it was emotion. With every step that I marched higher, I felt like I was moving closer to something eternal.
Memories in the Mist
The mountains test you in their own way. At one moment, the trail is wide and sunlit, and at the very next, we were swallowed by fog and silence.
As we climbed further, I saw an old man walking barefoot, his face glowing with devotion. I offered him water. He smiled and said, “Paani nahi beta, bas baba ka darshan mil jaye, wahi kaafi hai.” (“Not water, son. Just one glimpse of Baba is enough.”)
That sentence stayed with me. Faith like that doesn’t need logic. It only needs love.
By noon, the wind had grown colder, and the landscape turned starker. I could almost feel that the temple wasn’t too far now.
When I had the first Glimpse of Kedarnath
No photograph or video can ever prepare you for that first sight. When I finally got a glimpse of the Kedarnath Temple, standing tall against the snow-capped peaks of the Garhwal Himalayas, the time literally came to a standstill.
The temple looked timeless, powerful, and silent. The mountain behind it, called the Kedarnath Dome, stood like a guardian, wrapped in mist.
People around me were crying, smiling, and bowing. I bowed too. You don’t plan emotions in places like these; they just happen.
I kept walking toward the temple slowly, each step heavy with gratitude. It surely wasn’t a tourist spot. It was a feeling, a heartbeat.
The Final Aarti
After some rest in our hotel, we went over to the temple for darshan. It was late afternoon. The courtyard was filled with devotees. Everyone had crowded to get the final darshan of Baba Kedarnath. Today’s aarti would also be the last, before the temple closed for the winter. Baba blessed us with his darshan. As we came out, the priests began the rituals. The bells started ringing. The conch shells echoed through the valley.
The aarti wasn’t just a sound. It was energy – so vibrant that it vibrated through our chest, skin, soul.
Tears rolled down my face as I folded my hands and said, “Thank you for calling me here today, Baba.”
The sun set, turning the sky into gold. The temple glowed in that divine light. The smoke from the lamps mixed with the mountain air. I felt a scene that felt more like heaven than earth.
And, camera couldn’t capture that moment. Only the heart could.
A Night Under the Stars
That night, I just couldn’t sleep. The temperature had dropped below zero, but I kept stepping outside our room just to look at the temple.
Under the stars, the temple of Kedarnath looked unreal. I was bathed in moonlight. It was silent, yet alive. The wind carried the faint sound of the ringing bells.
I was thinking of all the stories about this place. The story of the Pandavas, who tried to catch the bull, which was Shiva himself. The story of Adi Shankaracharya, who travelled all the way from South India to preach Sanatan and build this temple. The havoc created by the floods of 2013. And now, my own tiny story woven into the fabric of Kedarnath’s long history.
Some journeys are said to change the way you see the world. This one had changed the way I saw myself.
When the Doors Closed
The next morning, we gathered around the temple, and the rituals were coming to an end. The priests carried the idol of Baba Kedarnath out of the main sanctum in a palanquin. It would now be taken to Ukhimath. Here, the prayers would continue during the harsh winter months.
As the sound of bells faded, a strange silence took over.
The temple doors finally closed. A collective sigh spread through the crowd. People folded their hands, some touched the cold stone walls, and others simply stood there, lost in thought.
I, too, stood there, watching the doors close. I realized it was the end of the season. It felt like saying goodbye to a good old friend; one you know will return, but the wait will surely hurt.
The Journey Back
As we began our descent, the trail looked different. The entire valley was echoing with the sound of “Har Har Mahadev” and “Bam Bam Bhole.” We were walking with a huge crowd and, of course, with Baba Kedarnath Himself.
I managed to get close glimpses of the palanquin and Baba’s idol. It felt like He was blessing me and promising to be with me all the time.
While the trail yesterday looked never-ending, today it felt like it was over in a jiffy. The 5-hour walk along Baba’s palanquin seemed to have been completed in 15 minutes. We reached Gaurikund, and as I got one last glimpse of Baba, I whispered, “See you again, Baba. Next time, maybe I’ll stay a little longer.”
The mountains didn’t reply, but the wind brushed past my face softly, almost like a blessing.
What Kedarnath Closing Ceremony Taught Me
People often ask me, Why do I go through such long treks and harsh weather just for a few minutes of darshan. But only those who’ve been here would know. The trek and the hardships are not about seeing God. It’s about feeling Him.
This trek to the Kedarnath Closing Ceremony taught me to surrender. It stripped away everything unnecessary. The noise, the ego, and the fear; everything had gone. And all I was left with was just faith.
Standing before that ancient stone temple, I realized that I am not just a visitor. I am part of something eternal.
And that’s what made the Kedarnath Closing Ceremony so unforgettable. It was a reminder that everything would end. The seasons, the journeys, and even lifetimes would be no more. But faith never does. It lives on, just like the mountains.
Tips for Those Planning Their Own Journey
If you’re planning to visit Kedarnath, do it, not as a traveler, but as a devotee. Walk slowly. Listen to the chants, feel the wind, drink chai with the locals, and let the mountains talk to you.
And if you ever get a chance to be a part of the Kedarnath Closing Ceremony, grab it. You’ll witness something words can’t fully describe.
I left Kedarnath with tired legs but a full heart. And every time I close my eyes, I still see that temple glowing in the golden light, the chants echoing in the valley, and a quiet voice saying, “Main yahan hoon. Hamesha.”
Watch My Journey
This blog is a small reflection of what I experienced, but to truly feel it, watch my full video:
🎥 Kedarnath’s Last Day – A Journey I’ll Never Forget 💔
(on my YouTube channel Life is an Endless Vacation)
You’ll see the trek, the aarti, the closing ceremony, and the raw emotions of everyone who was there on that unforgettable day.
