A Soulful Journey to Kolhapur — Shrestha’s First Darshan

Some journeys in life leave a lasting imprint on your soul — not just because of the destination but because of the little moments, unexpected detours, and emotions along the way. Our trip to the Mahalaxmi Temple in Kolhapur was one such journey. It wasn’t just a road trip across state borders — it was a spiritual milestone for our family, marking the first darshan for our 8-month-old daughter, Shrestha.

Although Shrestha had earlier been to Reddy in Maharashtra, this trip was special. It was her first time visiting a major temple — one steeped in history, devotion, and cultural grandeur. As parents, we were excited and emotional to witness this little chapter in her life unfold.

We began our journey from Margao, Goa, on a serene evening. The sun had just begun its descent when we packed our bags, settled Shrestha comfortably in her baby seat, and hit the road with hearts full of anticipation. The air was thick with that familiar blend of monsoon dampness and dusk — a gentle reminder that nature had its rhythm to guide us. As we ascended Anmod Ghat, nature seemed to put on a show for us. Though the road conditions were far from ideal — riddled with potholes and crowded with vehicles — we found ourselves pausing in awe at a truly mesmerizing sunset that spilled across the sky. The horizon was ablaze with shades of burnt orange, rose gold, and deep lavender. The rolling hills of the Western Ghats, blanketed in lush greenery, shimmered in the golden light. Each turn in the ghat revealed a new perspective — a valley glowing in the distance, trees swaying gently in the breeze, and birds silhouetted against the sky. We rolled down our windows to breathe in the crisp, cool mountain air, and for a few moments, the world stood still. It felt like a divine blessing — as if nature itself was acknowledging the spiritual journey we were about to undertake.

Despite the bumpy roads and occasional traffic snarls, my husband navigated the curves and climbs with calm expertise. His driving was steady and reassuring, especially as dusk gave way to darkness. We made our first stop at a small roadside stall where the aroma of freshly fried vada pav beckoned us. Paired with hot chai served in steel glasses, it was a comforting break. The spicy crunch of the vada, the soft bun, and the tangy chutney seemed to shake off our travel fatigue instantly. Later, hunger called again, and we found ourselves at a rustic dhaba, its neon sign glowing faintly under the starry sky. We ordered roti and the iconic Chicken Kolhapuri — fiery, flavorful, and cooked in a thick, rich masala that tingled every taste bud. The meal, though simple, was bursting with authenticity. It was the perfect introduction to Kolhapur’s bold culinary heritage. As we crossed into Belagavi, the city welcomed us with surprising vibrancy. The streets were alive with activity — families shopping, students chatting outside cafés, and the soft glow of educational institutions casting a sense of promise. The city's mix of modernity and tradition charmed me instantly; it felt like a place where history and youthfulness coexisted in harmony.

By the time we reached Kolhapur, it was late at night. Thankfully, we had booked our accommodation in advance, and the relief of entering a quiet, clean room after hours on the road was immense. We tucked Shrestha in, said our prayers, and drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Morning brought renewed energy. We dressed in traditional attire — a ritual that always makes temple visits feel more meaningful — and set off toward the Mahalaxmi Temple, one of the Shakti Peethas and a revered spiritual center. The temple complex buzzed with devotees from across India: elderly couples with walking sticks, young parents with toddlers, and newlyweds in bright silks, each carrying their hopes and prayers.

The queue was long, winding like a ribbon around the stone pathways. At first, Shrestha was calm and curious about the faces and sounds around her. But after a while, the heat and crowd became overwhelming for her tender senses. She began to cry, her little face scrunched in discomfort. We stepped out of the line, found a shaded corner, and gently rocked her, whispering lullabies and wiping the sweat from her brow.

Soon, a breeze picked up, and her tears turned to calm, drowsy blinks. Once she had settled, we rejoined the queue with gratitude and patience. Then, the moment arrived. We stepped into the sanctum, where Goddess Mahalaxmi stood radiant in her adorned glory. The air was thick with incense, chants echoed softly, and brass bells chimed in a rhythm older than time. Holding Shrestha in our arms, we bowed our heads, our hearts full of emotion. That moment — standing before the Goddess with our daughter — was profound. It was a silent prayer, a shared connection, a blessing that went beyond words.

After the darshan, we offered our prayers and bought sweets as prasad — the divine sweetness extending the blessing from the temple to our home. We then explored a nearby shop selling Kolhapuri chappals, jewelry, and spices — perfect souvenirs to carry the essence of the city back with us. A few kilometers away, we stopped for lunch at a homely restaurant known for its local thali. The vegetarian Kolhapuri thali was a medley of flavors — spicy gravies, tangy pickles, soft bhakris, and a generous serving of creamy shrikhand that soothed our spice-laden palates. We were so impressed that we bought some freshly ground Kolhapuri masala, eager to recreate those bold flavors at home.

Later in the afternoon, we visited Gandhinagar Market, a bustling hive of shops, colors, and aromas. We picked up sarees, traditional blouses, and some tiny outfits for Shrestha. I also managed to catch glimpses of Kolhapur University, a few heritage structures, and old bookshops that seemed frozen in time, adding a touch of academic and cultural flavor to the trip.

As the sun dipped again, we began our journey back to Goa. The return was calmer, though the road to Belagavi was still under construction. After a light dinner in Belagavi, we decided to take the Chorla Ghat route. Known for its smooth roads and breathtaking scenery, it was a stark contrast to our earlier path.

However, driving through Chorla Ghat at night turned into an adventure of its own. The dense forest pressed in on either side, tall trees casting long shadows under the moonlight. The road twisted and turned through silent stretches where not a single soul was in sight. It was eerie — a little thrilling and a little unsettling. We kept our voices low, instinctively respectful of the forest's hush. Now and then, a rustle in the trees or the hoot of an owl would remind us that we were just guests in nature’s domain.

By the time we reached Sanquelim, familiar signs of Goa welcomed us back like an old friend. We drove the last stretch home in silence — tired but content.

This trip was far more than a weekend getaway. It was a spiritual milestone, a taste of India’s rich temple culture, an ode to regional cuisine, and a road trip filled with nature, unpredictability, and joy. Most importantly, it marked Shrestha’s first darshan, a memory that we’ll one day share with her when she’s older — about the time she saw the Goddess, heard the temple bells, and witnessed a sunset in the Ghats before she could even walk.

We returned home with hearts full of blessings, minds brimming with memories, and bags full of Kolhapuri flavor. This journey will always remain etched in our hearts — not just for the places we visited, but for the emotions we felt, the challenges we overcame, and the sacredness we carried back with us.