From Muladhara to Kailasam: A Journey Within the Shiva Lingam

 

Our Visit to the Maheswaram Sri Shiva Parvathi Temple, Chenkal

Some temple visits stay with us because of the deity, some because of the architecture, and some because of the atmosphere.

Our visit to the Maheswaram Sri Shiva Parvathi Temple at Chenkal, near Neyyattinkara in Thiruvananthapuram, stayed with me for a different reason. It brought together, in a remarkable physical form, several ideas that have fascinated me for years - the chakras, meditation, the inner journey and the symbolism of Shiva.

Asha, Pratibha and I travelled to Chenkal by road from Tirunelveli, a journey of about three hours. It was raining heavily for almost the entire drive, and by the time we approached the temple, all three of us were a little tired.

And then, almost as if nature had decided to give us a small window, the rain paused as we reached the temple.

What had particularly attracted me to this temple was its enormous 111-foot Shiva Lingam. But its height was not really what drew me there.

I had heard that one could actually enter the Shiva Lingam, and that inside it was a tower structured around the chakras.

That immediately aroused my curiosity.

Entering the Shiva Lingam

From outside, the Mahalingam is impressive simply because of its scale. But the real experience begins when we step inside.

The interior has been conceived around the ancient idea of Shadadharam - the six principal energy centres leading upward in the inner journey. There are six meditation levels associated with Muladhara, Svadhishthana, Manipura, Anahata, Vishuddha and Ajna, along with a prayer level below and the symbolic Kailasam at the top.

The journey upward is through a spiral, cave-like passage.

And slowly, it begins to feel less like climbing a tower and more like moving through a symbolic representation of the human energy system.

At each level, the atmosphere changes. Large chakra symbols, the characteristic lotus petals, colours and other symbolic elements create an ambience corresponding to that particular energy centre.

For someone who has spent years exploring the chakras, seeing these concepts translated into an architectural and experiential space was fascinating.

But for me, something more personal was happening.

As I ascended from one chakra level to the next, I found myself consciously connecting with the corresponding chakra within me.

Muladhara was no longer merely a symbol on a floor. Svadhishthana, Manipura, Anahata and the other chakras were not simply concepts to be observed. At each level, I paused inwardly and allowed myself to resonate with the quality of that chakra.

The physical climb was gradually becoming an inner journey.

There was another interesting experience. We had arrived feeling somewhat tired after the long, rainy drive. Yet as we climbed, Asha and Pratibha too felt that, rather than becoming more tired with each floor, they seemed to be gaining energy.

Whether it was the movement, the atmosphere, the excitement of discovery or something subtler, I cannot say.

But the experience was unmistakable: we had entered tired, and as we climbed, we felt increasingly energised.

108 Shiva Lingams

Another striking feature is the presence of 108 Shiva Lingams within the structure, distributed across the chakra levels.

The number 108 carries deep significance in Indian spiritual traditions. Here, the Lingams also recall the traditional account of the 108 Shiva temples associated with Parashurama in Kerala.

Along the journey are also representations of 64 forms of Shiva, together with figures and imagery connected with sages, meditation and the spiritual tradition.

There is something to discover almost everywhere one looks.

Yet, for me, the individual sculptures were not the most impressive part.

What impressed me much more was the thought behind the whole creation.

Ancient Knowledge Made Visible

As I moved from one level to another, I kept thinking about the enormous effort that must have gone into this project.

Someone had to go back into the traditions and scriptures, gather the different strands of knowledge, understand their symbolism and then ask:

How can all this be represented in a form that an ordinary visitor can actually experience?

That, for me, was the real beauty of the Chakra Tower.

Concepts such as chakras, energy centres, meditation and the ascent of consciousness can remain abstract. We can read about them, discuss them and meditate upon them.

Here, an attempt has been made to give those ideas space, form, colour and movement.

You don't merely read about an ascent through the chakras.

You physically climb.

You move from one level to another.

You pause.

You observe.

And, if you choose to, you turn your attention inward and experience what each level evokes within you.

Finally, you reach Kailasam at the top.

From Muladhara to Kailasam

There is something beautiful about that symbolism.

The journey begins at the lower energy centres - the dimensions of our existence connected with physical life, security, relationships, emotions and personal identity.

As we move upward, the symbolism gradually takes us towards love, expression, awareness and finally transcendence.

At the highest level is Kailasam, represented by Shiva and Parvathi beneath the Sahasrara symbolism.

For me, having consciously connected with each chakra during the ascent, arriving at Kailasam had a special significance. What began as curiosity about an unusual temple structure had quietly transformed into a meditative experience.

Whether one interprets the chakras literally, energetically, psychologically or simply as a profound spiritual metaphor, the message is powerful:

The journey towards Shiva is also a journey within ourselves.

Perhaps that is why the experience touched me so deeply.

Shiva, Shakti and the Journey Within

In Chakra Dhyanam, we often explore the relationship between Shakti and Shiva - energy and awareness.

Shakti is the movement of life within us: our thoughts, emotions, desires, actions and energies.

Shiva represents the silent awareness in which all these movements are experienced.

Standing inside that enormous Shiva Lingam and moving upward through the chakra levels gave this familiar idea another dimension.

The outer structure was a Shiva Lingam.

But the journey was happening inside it.

And, in a curious way, another journey was happening inside us.

Perhaps that itself carries a message.

We spend much of our lives searching outside for experiences, answers, fulfilment and even spirituality. Yet our ancient traditions repeatedly turn our attention in the opposite direction.

Look within.

The chakras themselves can be viewed as milestones in that exploration—not merely as coloured symbols or energy centres, but as mirrors through which we can understand different dimensions of ourselves.

More Than a Monument

I went to Chenkal curious to see a 111-foot Shiva Lingam and its Chakra Tower.

I came away appreciating something much deeper.

Certainly, the scale of the structure is impressive. The 108 Shiva Lingams distributed across the chakra levels, the different forms of Shiva, the enormous chakra symbols and the ascent to Kailasam all make it a unique experience.

But what delighted me most was the effort to bring together ancient spiritual knowledge and transform it into an experiential journey.

For me, that was the real achievement.

A scripture can explain.

A teacher can interpret.

A meditation can help us experience.

And sometimes, architecture can make an invisible idea visible.

Our visit to Chenkal was one such experience.

We arrived after a long journey through the rain, somewhat tired.

We entered a Shiva Lingam.

We climbed through the chakras.

Somewhere along the way, the tiredness seemed to give way to energy.

And we reached a symbolic Kailasam.

What began as a visit to an extraordinary temple became, for me, a gentle reminder:

The distance from Muladhara to Sahasrara may be measured in floors inside a tower.
The real journey, however, is measured in awareness.

And that journey is within.

Ganesha and the Journey Within

From Grounding to Expanded Awareness

Whenever we begin something new, many of us instinctively remember Ganesha.

A new venture, a journey, a ceremony, a new phase in life.. we seek his blessings before taking the first step. Ganesha is Vighnaharta, the remover of obstacles, and the deity of auspicious beginnings.

But there is another way in which I like to look at Ganesha.

What if the journey on which he accompanies us is not only a journey into the world outside, but also a journey within ourselves?

Why Does the Journey Begin with Ganesha?

In the yogic tradition, Ganesha is associated with Muladhara, the root chakra.. the foundation of our energy system.

I find this association fascinating.

We normally imagine a spiritual journey as an ascent towards something higher - greater awareness, deeper consciousness or transcendence. Yet the journey begins at the root.

Perhaps there is a simple message here: before we rise, we must be grounded.

A tree reaches towards the sky because its roots are firmly anchored in the earth. In the same way, an inner journey need not begin by escaping our ordinary life. It begins by being fully present in it, with our body, responsibilities, relationships and circumstances.

Ganesha, firmly associated with the foundation, seems an appropriate guardian of that beginning.

The Remover of Which Obstacles?

We usually pray to Ganesha when we encounter or anticipate obstacles in the external world.

But meditation gradually introduces us to another kind of obstacle.

Fear, anger, attachment, old hurts, expectations, the need for approval, habitual reactions, and  opinions we cannot let go of.

Some obstacles are obvious. Others remain hidden because they have become so much a part of us that we no longer recognise them as obstacles.

This is where meditation becomes interesting.

When we sit quietly, we begin to notice what is happening within us. We see thoughts appearing without invitation. We notice emotions arising. We become aware of our reactions and recurring patterns.

The obstacle may not immediately disappear.

But we begin to see it.

And perhaps seeing clearly is itself the beginning of removing an obstacle.

Ganesha as a Symbol for the Inner Journey

Even the familiar form of Ganesha offers several opportunities for reflection.

His large ears can remind us to listen.. not merely to the words of others, but also to what is happening quietly within ourselves.

His small, focused eyes suggest attention and the ability to look deeply rather than merely glance at the surface.

His trunk combines remarkable strength with extraordinary sensitivity. It can uproot a tree, yet delicately pick up something tiny. Perhaps our inner strength too need not mean rigidity; true strength can coexist with sensitivity.

And then there is Ganesha's little mouse.

The contrast is striking, an enormous Ganesha with a tiny, restless creature as his vehicle.

One interpretation sees the mouse as representing the restless mind and its endless desires.. constantly moving, searching and nibbling at one thing after another. Yet in the presence of Ganesha, this restless creature is not destroyed. It becomes his vahana - his vehicle.

I find that symbolism particularly meaningful for meditation.

Meditation is not necessarily about destroying or suppressing the mind. It is about developing a different relationship with it.

The mind remains.. but we need not be carried away by every movement of the mind.

From Mind to Awareness

As meditation deepens, a subtle shift can sometimes be noticed.

Initially, we are completely involved in our thoughts:

I am worried.
I am angry.
I am disturbed.

Gradually, another possibility appears:

I can see that worry is arising.
I can notice anger within me.
I am aware that my mind is disturbed.

The situation may not have changed. The thought may still be present. Yet something has changed in our relationship with it.

There is awareness.

And this raises a fascinating question: What is it within us that is aware of the movements of the mind?

We may not need to hurry to find an intellectual answer. Meditation allows us to stay with the question and explore it through experience.

Perhaps this movement, from being completely identified with every thought and emotion to becoming aware of them, is one small doorway towards understanding consciousness.

Returning to Ganesha

This brings me back to why I find the symbolism of Ganesha so appropriate for the inner journey.

He sits at the foundation.. reminding us to remain grounded.

He is the remover of obstacles.. inviting us perhaps to recognise not only the obstacles outside us, but also those within.

His form reminds us to listen, observe, develop sensitivity and learn to live with the restless mind without necessarily becoming its servant.

And meditation gives us a way of exploring all this.  Not merely as ideas, but through our own experience.

Perhaps that is why beginning with Ganesha has a significance that goes beyond ritual.

Before trying to change the world around us, we begin by looking within.

Before removing an obstacle, we learn to see it.

Before seeking expanded consciousness, we establish ourselves firmly at the foundation.

And before beginning the journey, we pause.

We become aware.

We invoke Ganesha.

And then, the journey within begins. 

From Chakra Meditation to a Journey of Self-Discovery

 

I have been practising Chakra Meditation for nearly four decades.

For many years, it remained largely a personal practice. As my own understanding deepened, I began sharing the practice with a few people around me through in-person sessions. Then came COVID. Like many other activities, the sessions moved online and that unexpectedly became the beginning of something much larger.

What started simply as teaching Chakra Meditation gradually evolved into a structured journey of self-discovery and understanding life through understanding ourselves.

Bringing Ancient Wisdom and Modern Science Together

One question has fascinated me throughout this journey:

What actually happens within us when we meditate?

My interest in the science of meditation led me to explore neuroscience and other scientific perspectives alongside what our ancient scriptures and yogic traditions tell us.

This gradually became an important part of the course.

Rather than asking participants simply to practise a technique, I wanted them to understand the body, mind and energy processes associated with meditation, and how sustained practice could potentially influence the way we perceive, become aware and respond to situations in everyday life.

The course therefore evolved into a blend of ancient wisdom, personal experience and contemporary scientific understanding.

A Journey Into the Self

Over successive batches, the programme became more structured and experiential.

Today, the journey explores several interconnected dimensions: the mind and its patterns; the subtle-energy architecture of chakras and nadis; prana or life-force energy; interactions between body, mind and energy; our receptivity to universal life-force energy; gratitude and affirmations as part of inner practice; vibrations and frequencies; and exercises for cleansing and quietening the mind.

But I have consciously tried not to make these merely subjects to be taught.

The intention is to create experiences through which participants can observe what is happening within themselves.

Meditation then becomes more than sitting quietly with closed eyes. It becomes a way of understanding ourselves, and perhaps gradually transforming the way we live.

Can We Measure What We Cannot Easily See?

Another area that has fascinated me for many years is the measurement of subtle energies.

Can something that we experience subjectively during meditation also leave measurable effects on the body or mind?

This led me to explore different approaches to observing the state of mind, physiological changes and patterns associated with what traditions describe as life-force or subtle energy.

I eventually introduced an entire session called “Measuring the Unseen” into the programme.

During the session, we discuss - and in some cases demonstrate - different approaches such as physiological measurements, Kirlian / GDV-type imaging, aura or bio-field scanning, and other emerging approaches such quantum-physics based approaches that attempt to interpret subtle or subconscious patterns.

I am careful to distinguish between what science can measure directly, what can only be inferred from measurable effects, and what still remains exploratory.

For me, that distinction is important. Spiritual experience does not need to be forced into science, nor should scientific terminology be used merely to legitimise spiritual ideas. Both can contribute to our understanding when we remain curious about what each can, and cannot, tell us.

The Life Mirror

This exploration eventually led me in another direction.

I began working on an AI-assisted reflection framework based not on instruments, but on something much closer to everyday life:

How do we respond to situations?

An unexpected expense, criticism, rejection, recognition, disappointment, hurtful words, uncertainty etc.

Our responses to ordinary situations can reveal a great deal about what is happening within us.

The framework therefore looks separately at two dimensions: (1) our expression or response, and (2) our awareness of what is happening within us while we respond.

The purpose is not diagnosis, nor is it to attach a label to a person. It is a self-reflection tool - a mirror that may help participants observe patterns across different dimensions of life and revisit them after continued meditation practice.

I call it the Life Mirror.

Eighteen Batches - and Still Evolving

In the early days, I documented very little. I was more interested in conducting the sessions and observing how people experienced them.

Later, I realised that the programme itself was evolving and needed to be documented systematically.

Since beginning that documentation, I have completed 18 batches, and Batch 19 is now being planned in couple of weeks.

I don't advertise the programme. Participants have come almost entirely through word of mouth from people who have experienced the course themselves.

I deliberately keep each batch small, with a maximum of around 30 participants. We meet twice a week, and the ten-session journey is completed over approximately five weeks.

Participants have joined from different parts of the world, bringing very different life experiences into the same exploration of the self.

The Journey Continues Beyond the Course

The sessions themselves are only one part of the journey.

We also have a vibrant WhatsApp community called Chakra Dhyana Sadhana, where conversations continue around meditation, awareness, mind, energy and everyday life.

Questions, reflections, small experiments and polls often turn into interesting discussions.

It does take a considerable amount of my time.

But I thoroughly enjoy it.

Much of what I share is knowledge that I myself have received, studied, experimented with and gathered over many years. Being able to pass some of it on, and seeing people use it for their own self-development, is deeply fulfilling.

A Different Kind of Guru Dakshina

The course is completely free.

Occasionally, participants ask whether they can offer me a Guru Dakshina.

I tell them that I am happy to receive their gratitude in the form of energy rather than money.

If they still feel they would like to give something, I request them to donate an amount of their choice to an NGO that I am associated with, working in the neurodiversity space.

That, for me, makes the circle complete.

What Began as a Meditation Practice...

When I look back, it is interesting to see how something that began as my personal Chakra Meditation practice nearly four decades ago has taken on a life of its own.

It became a meditation course.

The course became a journey into the mind, energy and awareness.

That journey led to questions.

The questions led to research.

The research led to experiments, measurements and new frameworks for self-reflection.

And every batch teaches me something new.

Perhaps that is what I find most satisfying about this entire journey: I may be conducting the sessions, but the learning is never one-way.

We explore together. We experience together. And, in many ways, we all learn from each other.

The journey continues.