delve into the mystical

(Author: Dr. Sameena Ali. Dr Sameena is a dental surgeon and believer)

There are moments in life when the impossible bends before faith — when divine will makes way even through human obstacles. This is the story of how a simple prayer turned into a miraculous journey to Karbala, the sacred land of sacrifice and devotion.

This year, I felt an unusually strong pull to visit during Ashura. My visa was approved, tickets were booked and nearly 200 of us were scheduled to travel. But just days before the journey, a sudden escalation between Iran and Israel created a war-like situation in the region. Though Iraq wasn’t directly involved, its airspace was immediately shut. Flights were cancelled. My cousins, who were already in Iraq, became stranded. Friends living there sent me urgent messages: “Don’t come. It’s very bad here.” As a mother of two, fear settled deep inside me.

Our group was given three choices: take a full refund, postpone the trip or insist on going despite the escalating danger. I chose to defer the journey. Every day I prayed for peace, for safety and for the suffering to end. During one of my namaaz prayers, my son suddenly ran in, breathless: “Mamma! There’s a ceasefire!” The timing felt extraordinary — almost like a divine signal — but flights still hadn’t resumed.

I completely submitted myself to the Will of God, letting go of All Worries and Trusting His Decision.   I surrendered to faith, telling myself that if God wanted me in Karbala, He would open the way.

And He did — in the most unexpected way. On June 30, my travel agent called out of nowhere: flights to Iraq were reopening and if I wanted to go, I would have to leave the very next night. Planning a ten-day trip in under 24 hours seemed impossible. I was running a clinic, responsible for my children and elderly parents, and nothing was ready. But miracles unfold quietly. A close friend  offered to manage the clinic. My family supported me. My clinic consultants adjusted their schedules as I updated them from the car on my way to the airport. Everything fell perfectly into place.
When I finally stood before the shrine of Imam Husain (A.S.), my heart overflowed. The chaos, the uncertainty, the sudden opening of air routes — it all made sense now.

Even when the world seemed closed off — when political unrest, travel bans, and safety fears blocked every path — the hand of destiny had cleared the skies, quite literally.

When I reached Karbala, the atmosphere felt different — calmer, purer, almost ethereal. With fewer crowds after weeks of tension, the tranquility felt heavenly. Standing before the shrine of Imam Husain (A.S.), I felt protected and chosen. All fear dissolved, replaced by complete surrender.

I returned home with a heart full of peace and the unshakeable belief that when God Wills and Calls you , the path opens — even in the middle of a war. I still dream of the holy land, waiting for the next time destiny calls me again.

This wasn’t just a trip. It was a divine calling.

Author- Dr Hyma Moorty (Dr Hyma is a renowned educator and writer) 

I am still in awe of what happened, and I am not sure what to call it—a miracle, destiny or divine intervention. But I firmly believe that there ‘s a higher power to play, beyond human control. 

My journey began four decades ago when I embarked on my Ph.D. in English at Choudhary Charan Singh University, Meerut. As a working mother with two young daughters and a husband serving in Defense Research Development, juggling my research was no easy feat. My local guide from Garhwal University, Dehradun, supervised my work, while my external guide was based in Meerut, nearly 200 kilometers away.

Those were challenging times. Without access to modern technology like photocopying or digital files, I relied on public libraries, painstakingly copying notes by hand. Dehradun’s limited library resources meant I had to travel to other cities in search of books and resources. After five-years of perseverance and family support, I finally submitted my thesis. But that’s when my real test began.

The university sent my thesis to three esteemed professors for evaluation, but none responded.

According to the rules, if the reviewers don’t approve your work with in two years, it’s rendered invalid, and all your efforts go to waste. The thought of losing five years of hard work, family sacrifices, and dedication was haunting. Yet, I believe that a high power watching over me. I remained determined, knowing I’d worked hard and deserved a fair outcome. Justice may be delayed, but not denied. I decided to take matters into my own hands and visit the university office in Meerut, hoping to find a solution. I vividly remember my first attempt on a Friday, during winter break. 

My husband dropped me off at the Dehradun bus stand at 4.30 am in the month of December, in freezing cold, on a two-wheeler, so I could reach the university office by 11am, but the trip was fruitless. Despite my efforts, the staff seemed unhelpful, directing me in circles. I returned home at 10 pm, exhausted, hungry (having fasted that day for Santoshi Mata), and disheartened.

Undeterred, I continued making trips every fortnight, with no tangible results. As the deadline loomed closer- just two months remained – I grew more anxious. One Thursday night, I prayed to Shirdi Sai Baba, promising to visit Shirdi if my efforts bore fruit. 

The next day, I stood outside the staff department hoping for help. After what felt like eternity (may be 30 minutes or more), an elderly man with a kind face and gentle demeanor approached me. His grey hair was thinning, but his smile was warm and reassuring. He addressed me affectionately, ‘beta’, and before he could say more, I broke down in tears. 

He listened attentively as I shared my struggles, revealing that he’d been observing me for days, sensing my distress. His warm smile and gentle approach filled me with strength and reassurance. I felt as though Shirdi Baba Himself was extending His Abhay Hastam- His Hand of guarantee. Despite making numerous visits, I had never seen this kind benevolent stranger before. I poured out my heart to him, sharing the struggles I’d faced over the past few months and the looming deadline for my thesis approval. Tears streamed down my face as I recounted my ordeal. He listened patiently, offering words of comfort, and then suggested that I write an appeal to the Vice-Chancellor requesting a change of examiners, as the previous ones had failed to respond. I was told it was impossible, that such a change was unheard of but I trusted my mysterious helper. Nothing wrong in trying. With renewed hope I approached the VC’S office, my heart racing with anxiety. Despite the cold morning, I was sweating profusely. Yet, deep within, I felt Shirdi Baba’s presence, guiding me. To my surprise, the VC agreed to see me.

Though he seemed rough and unfriendly at first, he glanced at the appeal, looked at me, and then signed the request. ‘Go out at once,’ he said gruffly, ‘the rest will be taken care of’. I almost ran out, feeling a mix of relief and elation.

My grandmother’s words echoed in my mind: ‘God always comes to your rescue in the form of a human being’. Within two months, I received the letter confirming my Viva Voce date. Overjoyed, I knew it was Shirdi Baba who had intervened on my behalf. After my Viva, I tried to thank the mysterious stranger, but it seemed he had vanished into thin air. Despite asking around, no one knew which department he belonged to or where he had been posted next. It was as though he had returned to Shirdi, leaving behind a trail of divine intervention. The experience was a rare miracle, an inexplicable act of God.

The destiny of human beings is always shaped by the outcomes of miracles or divine interventions.

Triveni Sangam, Prayagraj, Mahakumbh India, 2025

Amidst crores of people scurrying to get ahead on the Kachap Dwar route, Vishwa Iyer found himself on the floor with few others, gasping for breath. 

It all happened in a blink. 

People were falling here and there trying to maintain their gait amidst the swelling crowds. "Someone or the other kept falling and getting back on their feet as stampede like situations kept popping up through midnight till the massive tragedy struck," recalls Vishwa. 

Having done a recce of the Triveni Sangam which had charmed the entire world drawing scores to the revered waters, just a day back, Vishwa had an idea about the kind of rush that could be seen on the Mauni Amavasya (January 29). 

It was a prominent day during the Mahakumbh 2025- which brought in mystics, spiritually enlightened and seekers from all walks of life- to the largest spiritual gathering anywhere in the world. Most people gathered at the sangam aimed to take the holy dip around 3.30 am -3.45 am- a time known as Brahma Muhurat. Brahma Muhurat is understood to have especially high energies. 

For the last couple of years, Vishwa had been waking up at the brahma muhurat and kept himself busy in his spiritual pursuits early in the day. One of it involved gazing at the sky each day and for Vishwa, it was as if the sky spoke to him each day. 

Delving deeper into spiritualism with each passing day, Vishwa had planned his Mahakumbh visit, months back. Here he was on one of the most powerful days- Mauni Amavasya which saw a unique planetary alignment of the Sun, the moon, Jupiter and planet Saturn- having evaded the stampede once and caught in another one.

“I started walking at 11.30 pm and by 1.30 am, I was still caught in the 700-800 stretch where the entire crowd converge before getting into the water. The crowd kept swelling and the police personnel could be heard saying they are unable to control the crowd. I saw ambulance after ambulance running on a parallel route and thought something is wrong,” said Vishwa. 

He managed to get up after a few people had walked over him and somehow climbed  a barricade to evade the unfolding chaos. After a little pushing through the crowd he got past another barricade and got into the water finally. By then he was hit by the cops stick a couple of times but he was happy that he had managed to get to the Sangam through all the pushing and shoving.

He finally took the first dip in the freezing waters in January cold that sweeps the northern India plunging it to near Zero degrees. He then took another dip and then one more. it was then that he looked up at the sky mid prayer when the sky spoke to him. 

“It was the first time since I start Sky Gazing, that I felt scared looking at the sky. The sky looked angry and upset. There were dark clouds moving very  fast in the night sky, giving it an otherworldly look. I felt as if I was peeping into a different world - like the sky has cracked open an intersection between the lokas. Unnerved by the vision and his understanding that something terrifying is unfolding," he said. 

Vishwa quickly completed his prayers and came out. 

"It was shortly after that I learnt that in one of the stampedes that unfolded simultaneously many had lost their lives. During sky gazing I have got different visions and insights. It is an ancient practice followed by many cultures and usually it has never been a scary message before that day,” said Vishwa. 

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the secluded Pointe Indienne beach in the Republic of Congo, Chandru Bhawnani an Indian professional on assignment, prepared to leave with three of his colleagues. 

The plan was simple- explore the beach before sunset and head back before darkness crept in. Pointe Indienne, while stunning, was no place to linger after dark—its reputation for danger preceded it. 

But the sun had not yet disappeared when something unexpected—and terrifying—unfolded.

“We were still soaking in the silence of the beach,” recalls Chandru, “After a good 30 minutes or so to ourselves when we unwinded after a long day, we saw them- the infamous tribesmen of the island. Dozens of armed local tribesmen, running straight toward us. Their eyes were wild, their faces full of rage. It felt like they had come for blood.”

The stillness shattered in an instant.

“I didn’t even register what was happening. My body just reacted. I ran. We all did. Phones, footwear, bags—none of it mattered. We just ran, stumbling across sand, hearts pounding, lungs on fire. It wasn’t just fear. It was the certainty of death chasing us.”

The group managed to duck into a small, abandoned hut a few hundred meters away. They bolted the door from inside and collapsed in silence- every creak of the wood tightening the grip of dread around them.

“In that moment, it felt like the world had stopped,” says Chandru.

 “None of us spoke. We didn’t even dare look at the time. We truly believed it was the end.”

And then, the unthinkable happened.

After what felt like an eternity, they cracked open a window to check the beach. What they saw left them speechless.

The same group of men who had just been chasing them—swords raised, fury in their stride—were now fleeing in the opposite direction. Terrified. Shouting. Looking back over their shoulders. As if they were being pursued by something—or someone.

But there was no one there.

The beach was empty. 

The ocean still. 

The sky darkening, but calm.

“We watched them run like they were escaping death,” Chandru says. “Only, there was no one chasing them. Nothing. Not even an animal. Just the crashing waves.”

In the two years since, Chandru and his companions have replayed that night countless times in their minds.

“None of us saw anything. Not a shadow. Not a sound,” he says. “And yet, whatever they saw—it was real to them. Real enough to turn hunters into the hunted.”

What changed that night? What unseen force turned the tide?

“There’s only one explanation I’ve come to accept,” says Chandru quietly. "Divine intervention."

To this day, the mystery remains unsolved. But for five Indians who walked the line between life and death on a forgotten beach in Congo, it was the night the unknown came to their rescue—and reminded them of forces far beyond understanding.

(Chandru and the others belong to the Sindhi Diaspora in Africa, engaged in business. The Sindhi community form a chunk of the working community in Africa).