Travel to These 5 Places Where Gods Once Lived
Riya Kumari | Feb 26, 2025, 23:59 IST
You don’t go to Ayodhya, Dwarka, Kedarnath, Mathura, or Rameswaram just to visit. You go to remember. That life is more than what we see. That duty matters. That love is not about possession. That silence can be louder than words. That humility is strength. And maybe, if you truly listen, you’ll return not just with memories, but with something deeper—something that stays with you long after you leave. Because some journeys don’t end when you come back home. Some journeys begin only when you do.
There’s a strange thing about sacred places. They are never just places. You don’t go there the way you visit a tourist spot. You don’t just “see” Ayodhya, or Dwarka, or Kedarnath. You stand there, and something shifts. It’s like walking into a story, but realizing—slowly, unmistakably—that the story is walking into you. Because these are not just locations on a map. They are echoes of something bigger. Of a time when gods walked the earth, not as distant deities in the sky but as kings, warriors, wanderers. Of choices they made, of battles they fought—not just with demons, but with doubt, love, loss, and duty.
And when you go there, you carry back more than just photographs. You carry questions. Maybe even answers. So, if you ever feel like something in life is missing—some unspoken understanding, some unseen connection—go to these places. Walk where gods once walked. And see what it does to you.
Ayodhya is not just a birthplace. It is a lesson. This is where Lord Rama was born. A king who had everything—power, love, family—yet spent most of his life giving it all up. Not because he was forced to, but because he believed duty was bigger than desire. That a promise, once given, must be kept, even if it breaks your heart.
Standing in Ayodhya today, amid the grand temples and the sacred Sarayu river, you don’t just see history. You feel a question pressing against your soul: What have you given up for what is right? And would you do it again, even if no one saw, even if no one praised you? Some places tell stories. Ayodhya asks you to live one.
Lord Krishna’s Dwarka is now underwater. Some say it was a divine act, others say it was nature’s course. Either way, an entire city—once magnificent, once bustling—now lies silent beneath the sea. But is it really gone? Because Dwarka is not just stone and ruins. It is an idea.
Krishna ruled here, not as a warrior alone, but as a strategist, a thinker, a guide. He built a kingdom, and when time called, he let it fall—without clinging, without regret. He knew something most of us struggle with: Nothing lasts forever. And that’s not a tragedy. That’s just life. And when you stand at the temple in modern-day Dwarka, looking out at the endless ocean, the question that lingers is simple but powerful: Do you know when to hold on? And do you know when to let go?
Shiva is not a god of temples and rituals alone. He is a god of mountains, of solitude, of silence. And if there is one place where you can truly feel him, it is Kedarnath. Here, amid the towering Himalayas, surrounded by ice and air so pure it almost stings, something inside you slows down. The noise of the world, the endless chaos of thoughts—it doesn’t disappear. It just… quiets.
Because this is what Shiva teaches—not through words, but through presence: What is truly important cannot be shouted. It can only be known in stillness. So if you ever feel lost, if your life is a storm of voices telling you what to do, what to be—go to Kedarnath. Sit in the cold. Breathe in the silence. And listen, not to the world, but to yourself.
We think of love as a feeling, a fleeting moment, a thing that happens between two people. But Krishna, in Mathura and Vrindavan, lived love as something far greater. Here, love was not possession. It was surrender. It was devotion without demand, without fear, without control. Radha loved Krishna knowing he would leave. The Gopis danced with him, knowing he was never theirs to keep. Because real love does not say, Stay with me. It says, Even if you go, I will love you still.
And when you walk through the narrow lanes of Vrindavan, hearing bhajans that have been sung for centuries, feeling the air thick with faith, one question stays with you: Do you love only when it is easy? Or do you love even when there is nothing to gain?
Rameswaram is where Lord Rama, before his great war, stopped to pray. Where he, a god himself, built a bridge—not just to Lanka, but to something deeper: the idea that no one is above humility. Because even gods bow. Even kings seek blessings. Even the strongest ask for strength.
And maybe that is the greatest lesson Rameswaram offers. That no matter how powerful, how wise, how accomplished we think we are—there is always something bigger than us. Something to kneel before, not out of weakness, but out of understanding. So stand at the shores of Rameswaram, where the ocean whispers forgotten stories. Look at the waters where an army once walked on faith alone. And ask yourself: Do you build bridges in life? Or do you burn them?
And when you go there, you carry back more than just photographs. You carry questions. Maybe even answers. So, if you ever feel like something in life is missing—some unspoken understanding, some unseen connection—go to these places. Walk where gods once walked. And see what it does to you.
1. Ayodhya – The City That Knows Sacrifice
Standing in Ayodhya today, amid the grand temples and the sacred Sarayu river, you don’t just see history. You feel a question pressing against your soul: What have you given up for what is right? And would you do it again, even if no one saw, even if no one praised you? Some places tell stories. Ayodhya asks you to live one.
2. Dwarka – The Kingdom That Sank, But Never Died
Krishna ruled here, not as a warrior alone, but as a strategist, a thinker, a guide. He built a kingdom, and when time called, he let it fall—without clinging, without regret. He knew something most of us struggle with: Nothing lasts forever. And that’s not a tragedy. That’s just life. And when you stand at the temple in modern-day Dwarka, looking out at the endless ocean, the question that lingers is simple but powerful: Do you know when to hold on? And do you know when to let go?
3. Kedarnath – The Silence That Speaks
Because this is what Shiva teaches—not through words, but through presence: What is truly important cannot be shouted. It can only be known in stillness. So if you ever feel lost, if your life is a storm of voices telling you what to do, what to be—go to Kedarnath. Sit in the cold. Breathe in the silence. And listen, not to the world, but to yourself.
4. Mathura-Vrindavan – Where Love is Not Just Romance
And when you walk through the narrow lanes of Vrindavan, hearing bhajans that have been sung for centuries, feeling the air thick with faith, one question stays with you: Do you love only when it is easy? Or do you love even when there is nothing to gain?
5. Rameswaram – The Bridge Between Man and God
And maybe that is the greatest lesson Rameswaram offers. That no matter how powerful, how wise, how accomplished we think we are—there is always something bigger than us. Something to kneel before, not out of weakness, but out of understanding. So stand at the shores of Rameswaram, where the ocean whispers forgotten stories. Look at the waters where an army once walked on faith alone. And ask yourself: Do you build bridges in life? Or do you burn them?