When Lord Narasimha Became Our Strength

Experiencing Lord Narasimha’s Mercy in Ahobilam

We witnessed Lord Narasimha’s mercy in a way we will never forget.

This April, we traveled to the sacred kshetra of Ahobilam, underestimating the intensity of the summer heat. Our goal was to visit all nine Nava Narasimha temples, especially the remote Pavana Narasimha shrine. By the Lord’s grace, the first eight temples were completed without difficulty. The real test began the next morning.

Reaching Pavana Narasimha requires a demanding 7.5-kilometer forest trek, including a climb of more than 800 steps. Along with my wife, Sneha, and my close friend, Ramesh, I reached the temple by mid-morning. The darshan was peaceful and deeply satisfying. After refilling our water bottles, we began the return journey.

The jungle was silent. The summer sun was relentless.

Stranded in the Wilderness

We had completed nearly 80% of the return trek when disaster struck. Sneha suddenly slowed down. Within moments, she collapsed.

“I can’t walk anymore,” she whispered.

Panic set in. We were deep in the forest with no pilgrims nearby, no phone signal, and very little water left. Desperate, I ran back down the mountain, descended the 800 steps, bought water and juice from a small stall, and rushed back.

The fluids helped—but only briefly. Fifteen minutes later, Sneha collapsed again, this time in even worse condition. I felt completely helpless.

Ramesh looked at me gravely. “Go back and find a doli team- palanquin -to carry elders. She cannot continue.”

Once again, I ran. Down the mountain. Through the blazing midday heat. By the time I reached the base and found a team of doli bearers, I was close to exhaustion myself.

Seeing my condition, they reassured me. “Sir, stay here. We will find your family and bring them down safely.”

The next hour felt endless. Then I saw the doli emerge through the trees. Sneha was safe. Relief flooded my heart.

The Shelter of Devotees

We immediately arranged a taxi to seek medical help. As we neared town, I remembered Lakshmi Mataji, a local ISKCON friend. Feeling somewhat embarrassed that we had come to Ahobilam without informing her, I called.

Her response was full of compassion: “I know exactly what has happened. This is the worst season to trek to Pavana Narasimha. Come straight to the ISKCON guest house. We will take care of everything.”

And they did. A doctor was already waiting when we arrived. Sneha was diagnosed with severe dehydration and sunstroke. After receiving IV fluids and proper treatment, she gradually regained her strength. She was safe.

The Hidden Hand of Narasimha

Throughout the ordeal, my prayers had been silent cries for help. At one point, I wondered: “How can the Lord help us here, stranded in the middle of nowhere?”

The answer came only later. Lord Narasimha had helped—not through a dramatic intervention, but through a quiet infusion of grace.

After already trekking nearly 15 kilometers, I somehow found the strength to sprint additional miles, repeatedly climbing and descending hundreds of stone steps under a scorching sun. That strength was not mine. When every human solution seemed exhausted, the Lord manifested as strength itself. He empowered me to become the instrument of my wife’s rescue.

Looking back, His hand was everywhere:

* An Extraordinary Energy: The sudden reserve of strength that kept me running.

* Timely Assistance: The swift and compassionate response of the doli bearers.

* Vaisnava Care: The maternal kindness and shelter provided by Lakshmi Mataji. Silent moral support from Ramesh throughout. He kept on giving courage to Sneha when he was down.

* Swift Recovery: The immediate medical attention that restored Sneha’s health.

Our journey to Ahobilam remains etched in our hearts. It taught us that Lord Narasimha’s protection does not always remove the storm. Sometimes, He carries us through it—and only when we reach safety do we fully recognize His hand.