Kamakhya Temple Experience: “She secretly cut my hair while I was shopping”: A chilling experience near Kamakhya Temple and why I felt it was ominous
Some travel memories fade with time, some get replaced by photographs, videos and reels. Then there are moments you remember not because they were beautiful, but because they left behind fear and questions for which you still seek answers. My ‘that’ moment happened outside the Kamakhya Temple in Assam just a few days before the famous annual Ambubachi Mela.For those unfamiliar, the Ambubachi Mela is one of the temple’s biggest annual festivals, marking the symbolic menstruation of the presiding deity. The festival celebrates feminine power and fertility. During the festival, the temple remains closed for three days. The mela is also known for attracting ascetics, sadhus and practitioners of various Tantric traditions from across the country.The incident that left me shocked for years
A few years ago, I travelled to Guwahati to explore the beauty of Northeast India. My best friend lived there. For as long as I could remember, Kamakhya Temple was always on my bucket list. It is one of India’s most powerful Shakti Peethas shrines in the country where Sati’s yoni (reproductive organ) fell. The place is also deeply associated with ancient Tantric traditions and practices. My friend had agreed to take me there and even arranged for us to meet her family priest, who would help us with the rituals and ensure we had a smooth darshan, considering the crowd it attracts.The day of our visit was Amavasya, the new moon day. The day carries an aura of mystique, especially at Kamakhya, where spirituality, folklore, and centuries-old practices coexist in the most fascinating ways.As I entered the temple, the energy shifted; it was unlike anywhere I had been before. I noticed several white pigeons, chants echoed through the stone corridors and the air carried a sweet fragrance of incense. The place was crowded but it was manageable.The market outside
After completing the darshan, we thanked the priest and stepped out into the vibrant market surrounding the temple complex. Like many temple bazaars across India, this one was also overflowing with religious artefacts. There were idols of various goddesses, and packets of the famous vermilion associated with Kamakhya.Back then, I had thick, healthy, below-shoulder-length curly hair, which I wore loose. My friend and I eventually stopped at an open shop selling colourful bangles. The market was packed with devotees to the extent that people brushed past one another constantly. It was then that something very strange happened.A teenage boy sitting with the shopkeeper suddenly shouted angrily in Assamese at the woman standing almost beside/behind me. I couldn’t understand the words, but there was an urgency in his voice.My friend, who could understand Assamese, immediately turned around. Standing incredibly close to me was a woman draped in a colourful saree. She looked unlike anyone else in the crowd. Her exceptionally long hair hung loose, extending well below her waist. I remember looking deep into her eyes because she was quite close. She looked disturbed and detached, and in one hand she held a small razor blade.But what shocked and disturbed us was that in her other hand she held a thick lock of curly hair which was mine! The memory still gives me chills.In the market chaos, she had managed to cut off a small portion of my hair so quietly that I failed to notice.
The boy in the shop had been the only person to notice somehow.Before we could even process, my friend reacted and struck the woman’s hand hard enough that the lock of hair slipped from her grasp and fell onto the ground.The woman didn’t say a single word. Before we could catch her, she ran and disappeared into the crowd. I stood frozen, unable to understand what had just happened.The shopkeeper was an old man. He immediately urged us to tie our hair. Through my friend’s translation, he explained that incidents involving people trying to obtain a portion of hair or personal belongings were not unheard of around crowded pilgrimage sites across India. Whether due to superstition or personal beliefs, he advised us to keep our hair tied at places with such powerful energy.I never found out who the woman was and I don’t even want to know.Perhaps it could have been someone struggling with some kind of mental illness, or simply an isolated incident. There is no evidence to support assumptions about her intentions. But in that moment, the experience felt deeply unsettling.Travel often teaches lessons. Sometimes it’s about respecting local customs. Sometimes it’s about staying alert in crowded places. To this day, whenever I visit busy pilgrimage sites or crowded festivals, I make sure my hair is tied up.While some journeys leave you with souvenirs, this one left me with a lifetime mystery.(Disclaimer: The views, observations and experiences described in this article are solely those of the author and are based on a personal incident. The Times of India does not independently verify or endorse the personal opinions or experiences expressed by the author.)
