Pilgrimage: The Faces of Kumbh Mela

I encountered Damaru Baba in a make-do tent just after sunset, on the bank of the Ganges. He invited me in for chai tea, but was a man of few words and preferred to sit together in silence, as he slowly moved his prayer beads between his fingers. Damaru would spend his mornings and evenings here in deep meditation, away from the crowds of Kumbh Mela.

Kyle Meadows, photographer:

“In February of 2025, I embarked on a photographic pilgrimage of my own – to document the faces and spirit of Kumbh Mela, the world’s largest gathering of people. Occurring once every 12 years, over six hundred million pilgrims descend upon the Ganges for ritual bathing, prayer, and devotion. India’s holy men or ‘sadhus’ are drawn to the spiritual significance of this festival. Devoted to their religion, they renounce worldly possessions and attachment.

“The men are revered by Hindus as representatives of the gods. It was these sadhus that drew my attention. Over two weeks, I explored the back streets of Varanasi in India to photograph these sadhus. I wanted to isolate the individuals from the chaos of Kumbh Mela and their frenzied environments, so I often opted to set up a makeshift
studio on location and wait for passersby who caught my attention. I used one strobe, shot through an octabox, and usually positioned my subjects against studio-like backdrops.

Sai Baba, photographed at Assi Ghat, Varanasi. Sai Baba wears the traditional orange robes, chosen initially mainly because of the dye available at the time, but now meant to symbolise simplicity and detachment of materialism. He wears a skull necklace to help confront mortality as babas seek to transcend social norms and the illusion of dualities like life and death.

“The Naga sadhus, fierce and ancient in appearance, were best photographed at dawn, where they would emerge at the banks of Ganges to smear their naked models with ash and chant mantras. Other sadhus, wrapped in the bright safford-coloured robes, were often found meditating and reciting prayer under the shade of temples.

At the break of dawn, I encountered Naga Baba as he carried out his morning ritual on the banks of the Ganges.
After bathing in the river, he would gather ash from the remnants of last night’s fire to cover the entirety of his body. He moved with deliberate, meditative slowness. Speaking to him, I learned that ash symbolised both death and transcendence, a reminder that the physical body is impermanent.

“Photographing them was not merely an act of portraiture but an exercise in respect, patience, and cultural understanding. In many cases, a respectful nod or a whispered “Namaste” was enough to open the space between us for a portrait. At other times, simply sitting together without the camera, sharing tea or silence, proved to be the most important prelude to any image.”