In Every Sacred Space, There Is a Story
In every sacred space, there is a story—of how the timeless touches time, how the formless takes form. The story of Bhavani Shakthi Peetam is not one man’s alone, but a divine call that echoed through a life, shaping it, breaking it, and revealing its sacred purpose. It is a tale of unexpected grace, where what seemed like an end became a profound beginning.
My journey began not in search of God, but in search of an exit. From my earliest childhood in a modest farming family in Tamil Nadu, I carried an inexplicable grief—a deep, unspoken sorrow that often felt larger than this life. At a certain point, I realized that something catastrophic must have occurred in a past life. Though I did not consciously recall specific memories, I could sense the echo of that trauma—immense karmic pressure that felt disconnected from my present existence. This helped me understand that the depth of my suffering and the death-like experiences I endured were rooted in karma older than this life.
This sorrow made me feel like a stranger everywhere, even amid family gatherings and village festivals. Laughter around me felt distant, like echoes from another world, and I often retreated into solitude, wondering why I couldn’t bridge the invisible gap between myself and others. This profound sense of alienation became my constant companion, shaping a life of quiet observation and inner distance.
As I grew, I turned to the structured world of logic: engineering studies and a career in software development, where code and systems offered a semblance of control. But the universe follows its own inescapable logic—one that doesn’t yield to human plans.
At 26, that divine code ignited in me. I endured a profound dismantling—a terrifying inner fire, like a Nadi disassembly, where my body, mind, and identity unraveled. Nights blurred into days of intense inner turmoil, my body trembling as if every cell was being rewritten. Physically, I walked the thin line between life and death; emotionally, I was shattered by isolation; socially, I stood alone. The extent of the damage to my body seemed beyond recovery by any normal means—I never imagined I would live this long. Yet, grace intervened, holding me here when all logic said I should not be alive.
Looking back, this life I now live is a profound gift. Death did not come as I expected, and in that mercy, I took a solemn vow: If I am to remain, I will offer my life in service to others. Today, that offering flows entirely to Bhavani, the divine force who sustained me.
With survival came an exhaustive quest for healing. I explored every system the world had to offer—from allopathy and Chinese medicine to ozone treatments, acupuncture, Siddha, Varma, and beyond. Files upon files of medical reports piled up from more than 30 doctors and hospitals, each a testament to my quiet determination. Yet, none could fully restore what had been unraveled. The desire to live faded entirely; all I sought was a smooth, peaceful exit, a way to depart without returning to this cycle.
In that space, I discovered a quiet truth: Living can seem effortless, but dying—true, graceful departure—is far more elusive. I resolved then to choose my own ending, coming close at times, but never succeeding. Until the revelation of the Shakthi Peetam, there was no eagerness in me to cling to life. I simply waited, with no compulsion for action, no interest in achieving or proving anything to anyone. The world moved around me, but I felt like a silent observer, a misfit in every setting—often misunderstood, my depths perceived as shadows rather than the light they concealed.
I never explained my inner world to others, knowing that without the experience of such depths, understanding was impossible. Those who could grasp it needed no words; those who required explanations would never truly hear. When I did speak of myself, it was often seen as negativity, leading to complete misunderstandings. So, I kept it all within, enduring misconceptions and isolation, until now—sharing it here as a bridge to those who might recognize their own quiet struggles. I always told my friends: My life is not one to emulate. I would not wish my path on anyone—the quiet endurance, the hidden pain. That is why I go to such lengths to support others, to ease burdens I know too well, extending a helping hand to those in trouble with an empathy born from my own unseen trials.
An ancient pull eventually drew me on a pilgrimage across Bharat, to the majestic Himalayas, the holy city of Kashi, the twelve Jyotirlingas, and sacred temples in Tamil Nadu. Each visit was a step into silence, where the sacred vibrations of the land began to whisper hints of meaning, easing the isolation I’d carried for so long. Attempts at service, like opening Sanghamitra restaurant for the spiritual community, faltered, teaching me humility and surrender.
In this spiritual crossroads, I was initially planning to set up a retreat center on the farm in partnership with a few Hatha yoga teachers and Sarovaram Ayurvedic hospital from Palakkad. I envisioned it as a sanctuary for those at crossroads, providing solutions for deep-rooted problems through an integration of Yoga, Ayurveda, and Tantra. However, the idea of a temple and the detailed rituals it required felt overwhelming; I doubted my ability to maintain that purity and integrity. This very search for how to honor ritual with authenticity led me to seek the guidance of Swami Ambotti Thampuran, a revered seer from an ancient Naga temple in Palakkad, Kerala. That meeting became the pivotal moment in the unfolding of this journey.
In a timeless moment, he spoke of the land where Bodhi Space stood, revealing it as a “Nagarani Kshetra”—a destined ground for Bhavani Shakthi Peetam.
That revelation collapsed a lifetime of quiet waiting into crystalline clarity. The childhood alienation, the dismantling, the blocked exits, the pilgrimages, Bodhi Space—it was all divine choreography. Tears came not from pain, but from overwhelming recognition: every hardship had been a forging, every silence a preparation. Devi Herself had been shaping Her instrument.
I knew, in that instant: This is what I was born for. This is my life’s purpose and my only mission. For the first time in 16–17 years, I felt truly at home—a deep, heartfelt alignment. Everything before had been a prelude, done without full conviction; now, there was purpose to my existence, meaning woven into every suffering and quiet endurance.
This stirred a deeper soul-memory: In a past life, I had attempted this sacred anchoring of Devi’s energy on this very land. This life is its continuation, timed by the cosmos.
This is not human will—Bhavani orchestrates all. Aspiring to such is beyond us; when She decides to descend, no force can stop Her. She is Sati Devi herself—primordial and absolute, the great silence before the first cosmic sound, the ultimate Womb of Creation.
கிடைக்காதது கிடைக்கும், இல்லாதது உண்டாக்கப்படும்
That which is unattainable will be attained; that which does not exist will be created.
This is Her grace. Therefore, the vision for this Peetam is simply to be a flawless reflection of Her nature.
This Peetam was forged in the fire of my own trials—a complete unraveling that taught me the depths of endurance and the beauty of grace. Our deepest wounds are not endings, but gateways to a strength far greater than we imagine.
Bhavani Shakthi Peetam is a living mission, beginning its journey as a sanctuary for those on difficult paths. Drawing deeply from my experience, it aspires to offer a space where quiet struggles can transform into unshakeable purpose. I walked through the fire to light the way—now, through Her grace, it becomes a portal for all seeking their own sacred homecoming.
