Ten years ago, I experienced a spiritual awakening that awakened my world. Over time I have stepped into many versions of myself. Layer by layer becoming softer, wiser, and more rooted in who I truly am. The path of unbecoming isn’t easy. My journey inward was mirrored by a complex and difficult relationship with my family, especially my mother. Our relationship is mostly in the shadows, distant, navigating unspoken expectations and generational wounds.
Our trip to India, The Motherland was more than just a holiday. This pilgrimage of healing, alongside my mother, across our ancestral land and somewhere between the city noise and quiet mountain mornings, something shifted. Old pain began to dissolve, replaced by deep understanding, forgiveness, and love. What began as a physical journey across India became a spiritual homecoming for both of us.
Coming Home: Through The Heart and Soul.
Journeys of the soul call you back, not just to a place, but to your roots and heritage. My recent five week trip to India was exactly that, a homecoming. I reconnected with my ancestral land, felt rich with heritage, evoking memories, and processing lost emotions. From Mumbai ‘The city of dreams’, the simple life in Punjab, and fresh mountain air in the Himalayan foothills in Shimla and Dharamshala, this journey was a celebration of family and deep spiritual rebirth.
Mumbai: Where Modern India Meets the Sea
My soulful trip began in the pulsating heart of India, Mumbai. As soon as I arrived, I could feel the heart beat of India beneath my feet. I was swept up in the beautiful chaos that is divinely interwoven, all moving with ease and grace. Mumbai madness, busy roads overspilling with traffic, honking horns, bustling streets filled with colourful garments and street food vendors. A city that enhances all the senses and awakens the spirit.
I stayed at India’s first luxury hotel, The Taj Mahal Palace Hotel, known to be the city’s most iconic place to stay. A sanctuary for stillness and service. My room faced the Gateway of India, every morning I would watch the world go by. The Arabian Sea glimmering in the distance and the slow hum of Mumbai mornings awakening.
Mumbai, has a dynamic blend of old and new, with all the typical tourist attractions and must see sights. Yet I yearned to discover a more intimate side of the city.
My most enjoyable days were wandering hand in hand with my mama through the neighborhoods of Bandra, Ranwar Village, and Matunga. Bandra is effortlessly cool and chic, with coffee shops and unique boutiques on every corner. Colourful Portuguese style cottages and walls covered in street art, celebrating India’s culture and artistry. Ranwar is one of the original villages, it gives you a glimpse into the city’s forgotten heritage, this place has a quiet charm untouched by time. Matunga delighted my senses with a market that spread far and wide, locals purchasing their fruits and vegetables and the scent of fresh jasmine flowing through the air.
My time in Mumbai I moved to a different rhythm, more intimate, slow and intentionally making memorable moments with my Mother, by just being together with no plan or itinerary letting the energy of the day take us on an adventure.
Punjab: Walking the Footsteps of My Ancestors
From Mumbai, We flew north to Punjab. This land is a place I hold so dear to my heart. The earth here holds the memories of where my family began. We stayed at my Massi’s ( mother’s sister) home in Jalandhar. I have been here many times before but with each visit I learn something new about myself and the dynamic relationships with my family. I spent the long hot evenings on the outdoor swing with my own thoughts and feelings, allowing all to come to the surface so I could acknowledge the deep pain within the family ties. Everyday the home is filled with stories and laughter. And as Punjabis, we love our food. Sisters together constantly in the kitchen feeding you love. Every meal is a celebration and each one nourishes the soul.
Punjab is my ancestral homeland. It is where my mother and father were born, where our family name was first spoken. We travelled to their native villages, nestled among wheat fields, with dusty paths still holding the footprints of my mothers childhood. I walked those same paths in awe, imagining the way she lived while watching her inner child bloom. In my mother’s village, I visited the old family home and factories we once owned, now aged and weathered, but still standing. We prayed together in the family temple and she shared stories with the locals, even some who had worked for her father. I felt honoured to be with her and blessed by the land and the people who still live there.
In my father’s village, we sat with elders in the family who remembered my Grandfather. There was a deep sadness as my fingers traced the walls of the original home my grandfather once built, now sold off piece by piece. A small piece gently breaks into my hand, a little piece of memory I can take home. I hoped to absorb the stories etched into the brick and stone. Barefoot grounded in the land of my heritage, my home. These were moments of silent transmission, where history wasn’t read, it was felt.
My time in Punjab deepened my connection to my roots. It reminded me of who I truly am and where I came from. I am not just the product of a modern life, I have the energy of this land running through my veins.
Shimla: Winding roads and Misty Hills
From the fields of Punjab, we began our road trip to the Himalayas. First stop was Shimla. The drive was a delightful journey through pine forests and rising mist, as we ascended into the mountains. Shimla, carries the charm of its colonial past. But the reason for our visit was to breathe life into the memories of my mother’s grandfather, who used to holiday in the summer here and bring her apples when he would come home.
Time slows down. Mornings were spent in silence, the only company was birdsong, monkeys and the distant hum of temple bells. In the day we would stroll down Mall Road, taking in the Victorian era architecture, shop for local handicrafts and stopping for chai in one of the hillside cafes. At the Ridge, we watched the clouds part to reveal beautiful snow tipped peaks of the mountains in the distance. In the evening our hotel provided us with a private bbq on the balcony. We added a Himachal touch to our outfits and enjoyed each other, the food and the views. Watching the sunset and the day unwind, until the fire pit no longer gave us light.
Whilst in Himachal Pradesh we visited many temples, Jakhu Temple, perched atop the highest peak of Shimla. It is dedicated to Lord Hanuman. This is a home to playful monkeys and panoramic views.
Tara Devi Temple is one of the most visited sacred sites in Shimla. It is dedicated to Goddess Tara who is known as the “Star Goddess” she blesses her devotees with success in all endeavors.
Kali Mata Temple, situated in the heart of Shimla. This temple is dedicated to the reincarnation of Goddess Kali, known as Shyamala, locals believe that the city is named after her.
Each temple lives high in the hills. A journey to reach, but worth every moment. The sacred silence at the summits felt incredible. I felt closer to the Divine. Embracing the rituals, by offering flowers, lighting the diya, chanting mantras and ringing the temple bells, my heart felt whole and prayers felt answered. My family felt whole.
Dharamshala: A Sacred Stillness
We continued further into the mountains towards Dharamshala, a spiritual sanctuary for the soul. This is the home of the Dalai Lama and a central hub of Tibetan culture. Peace and clarity flows through the air, you naturally feel uplifted and enlightened by the soft mountain air. Breathing in new life, and releasing all that no longer serves you.
Our guest house in Mcleodganj was situated in the hillside with a never ending staircase that descended downwards. We were greeted by our cheerful host and a beautiful large yellow building hanging on the side of the mountain, that would be our home for the next few days. The view was impeccable, clusters of colourful homes dotted about in cedar trees as far as the eyes could see and snow-tipped mountains in the distance.
The streets of Dharamshala are enticing and quaint, showcasing patriotic artwork, shops overflowing with a wonderful mix of spiritual tools, singing bowls, crystals and beautiful Tibetan trinkets. I found the people to be kind, with soft smiles and open to conversation, a real sense of community and care.
We spent our days diving deep within the Buddhist faith, spending time at Namgyal Monastery and watched monks in maroon robes go about their daily duties and recite Tibetan chants. Prayer wheels slowly spin, each one filled with “Om Mani Padme Hum”. Each spin invokes the power of the mantra. The wheel itself represents the interconnectedness of all things. The Kora walk is a circular walk around the grounds of The Dalai Lama Temple, a pilgrimage, a place to perform a walking meditation, where you can connect to the sacredness of the land. We walked in deep gratitude, surrounded by the green lush forest, a soft breeze that flutters the thousands of prayer flags each one carrying the prayers along the land and into the hearts of others.
We hiked through forested paths to waterfalls and stumbled along yoga studios hidden in the woods. Our eyes gazed upon the mountain tops at Nadda view point, the trail leading us with inspiring quotes towards Sahaja Yoga Meditation Centre where we took part in a self realisation practice. Picked tea leaves in the Kangra Valley and watched the sunset light up the sky. Our mind, body and soul filled with life force energy that radiated throughout our whole being. Each moment connects us to our inner self and a higher power, bringing us closer to nature and God.
Healing and Wholeness: Coming Full Circle
As our five week journey ended, something inside me had shifted. The landscapes had changed, but what changed most profoundly was the space between me and my mother.
Our relationship layered. Like many South Asian daughters, I grew up in a space between tradition and individuality, between obedience and self-expression. Our bond has always been loving, but also included moments of silent tension. There are woven expectations, unspoken hurts, and the weight of generational trauma. There were chapters of our lives, where we didn’t understand each other, how to express or see each other clearly.
Transformation can really happen when you take time to truly listen, this journey together, walking side by side. I heard the truth for the first time. I watched her inner child play. Her eyes lit up with happiness and heard her prayers when she did not speak. I saw my mother, the girl she used to be and the woman she had to become. I watched her breathe deeper, taking sacred pauses for herself. Allowing herself just to be, in this moment of healing. We saw each other as women, not mother and daughter and we reclaimed our connection through compassion, love and understanding.
The land held our healing, our stories in the soil. I felt the pulse of something bigger than me. A lineage. A love. A remembering.
Returning home, I am not the same. My DNA has been activated, timeline shifted and my being holds a deep knowing that healing is possible when we allow ourselves to truly express and return. This trip was not just about a holiday in India, it was about exploring the depths of darkness that have haunted myself and relationships. India brought colour, shining light in the cracks of my soul. Awakened my senses with a new vibration of hope and resilience. It was about coming home to my roots, to my mother, and eventually to myself.