The Lost Flame: Rediscovering Fire’s Sacred Power
I’ve been attending Maha Yagnams since 2014—yes, back when Instagram filters were still in their awkward teenage years. Every year, I sit at the sacred fire: mornings for homas, evenings for pujas, with a break in between. But this year? This year was different.
Saturday’s fire ceremony was five hours long. And let me tell you: it was the most intense day I’ve ever had at the fire. I’m not talking about “ugh, it’s hot and I’m a little sweaty” intense. I’m talking raw, burning, life-altering intense. It was the first time I ever had to step away from my fire—because I thought I was going to explode.
The Fire: Humanity’s First Best Friend (and Toughest Teacher)
Long before we had electric stoves and binge-worthy streaming, fire was humanity’s best friend. It cooked our food, kept us safe, and brought us together in community. But it was never just a utility—fire was revered as a living force. Agni, Hestia, Atar—every culture saw fire as a sacred being, a bridge between us and the divine.
Today? Most people wouldn’t know how to light a fire if their phone battery depended on it.
From Hearth to Hashtag: How We Lost Our Flame
Then came modernity. We invented thermostats, microwaves, and “smart” everything. Fire got domesticated, hidden, or replaced by a flickering screen. The hearth—the heart of the home—was replaced by LED lights and gas fireplaces that don’t even require matches.
We traded the raw, living fire for something that doesn’t ask anything of us. And in that trade, we forgot that fire demandspresence, patience, and respect. You can’t just click a button on a sacred flame; you have to tend it. And sometimes, it burns back.
When Fire Bites Back
That Saturday, as I sat at the yagna, I reached a point where I simply couldn’t take it anymore. My whole being felt like it was going to explode. I had to leave my fire—something I’d never done before. I ran to the Durga mandir, and the second I stepped inside, I burst into tears. It was like the flame cracked me open, and all that I’d been holding just poured out.
And here’s where the sass comes in: there were moments during that five hours when I’d feel the slightest breeze on the back of my neck, and I’d whisper to HER, “Ahh, I feel your breath on me. Thank you.” And then there’d be long stretches of still, oppressive heat—and I’d grumble, “Hey, where’s that breath? Why aren’t you blowing on the back of my neck, huh?” Yeah. Real talk with the Goddess. She’s a tough teacher, but she’s got a wicked sense of humor.
Spiritual Burnout and the Lost Flame
Losing our relationship with fire didn’t just change how we warm our homes. It dimmed the flame in our own hearts. Fire is the energy of transformation, the spark that says, “Let’s burn away what no longer serves and rise anew.”
Without that connection, we’re left cold, tired, and uninspired. We scroll and binge, but deep down, we’re hungry for the real thing: the living, breathing fire that transforms us.
Rekindling the Flame
Look, I know not everyone can sit at a yagna fire for five hours (and sometimes even I can’t!). But we can all start somewhere:
Light a candle with intention. Let it remind you that transformation is a slow burn.
Sit with a real fire—campfire, bonfire, or fireplace—and let it teach you presence and surrender.
Honor fire in your rituals, big or small. Give thanks for the flame that refines and purifies.
Final Spark
Fire isn’t just a background prop—it’s a living force that demands our presence and transforms us in the process. Let’s stop treating it like a decorative accent and start tending it like the sacred being it is.
Because after nine days of chanting, sweating, and even running away from the flame, I know one thing for sure: the world needs more people who know how to keep the fire alive—and know when to step away, too. 🔥💥
