A Pilgrimage to Our Roots: Seeking Blessings at Mungipa Baba, Tosham Hills

 

A Family Pilgrimage to Mungipa Baba at Tosham Hills | Faith, Heritage & Family Memories

A heartwarming memoir of our family's visit to Mungipa Baba at Tosham Hills when our granddaughter turned one. A journey celebrating faith, ancestral roots, and unforgettable family moments.

Flashback to October 2015

These photographs were taken eleven years ago, yet every image still brings back the warmth of that beautiful family day. We had gone to seek the blessings of Mungipa Baba when our granddaughter celebrated her first birthday.

Three generations united by faith, visiting Mungipa Baba at Tosham Hills in October 2015.

A Journey Close to My Heart

Some journeys remain etched in our hearts forever—not because of the distance we travel, but because they reconnect us with our roots.

These photographs were taken in 2015, when my granddaughter had just celebrated her first birthday. To seek blessings for her healthy and happy life, our family—my son, daughter-in-law, little granddaughter, my niece, and I—visited the sacred shrine of Mungipa Baba on the beautiful Tosham Hills in Haryana.

For us, it was much more than a family outing. It was a pilgrimage filled with faith, gratitude, and memories that continue to warm our hearts.

Every journey becomes memorable when shared with loved ones.

Our Ancestral Connection with Tosham

Tosham is not just another town for our family.

According to the stories lovingly preserved by our elders, our ancestors originally belonged to Tosham. In later generations, they moved to nearby agricultural lands, and over time those settlements gradually developed into villages with new names.

Every year, the traditional family genealogists (known locally as Jagas) who maintain ancestral family records in Haridwar would visit our village and share details of our family lineage. Listening to them was like opening a living history book.

Our elders also believed that our family traces its lineage to Prithviraj Chauhan, and that over the centuries the family gradually became part of the Jat community. Such oral traditions have been passed down through generations and remain an important part of our family's heritage.

Whether preserved in written records or through family memories, these stories remind us that knowing where we come from gives deeper meaning to where we are today.

Seeking blessings amidst the sacred surroundings of Tosham Hills.

A Day Filled with Smiles

The photographs capture simple but beautiful moments.

My niece and daughter-in-law laughing together on the stone steps…

My little granddaughter, barely one year old, looking around with innocent curiosity…

Our family pausing before the sacred statues…

The peaceful surroundings of Tosham Hills…

Every picture carries the warmth of togetherness.

Years have passed since then, but these smiles still feel fresh.

The happiest memories are often the simplest ones.

Discovering the beauty of Tosham Hills together.

Faith and Nature Together

One of the most beautiful aspects of Tosham Hills is the peaceful harmony between spirituality and nature.

Ancient rocks, green trees, gentle pathways, and sacred shrines create an atmosphere where one naturally slows down and reflects.

Standing there, it felt as though time itself had paused for a while

Moments of peace surrounded by nature.

Joy needs no words.

Looking Back with Gratitude

Today, whenever I revisit these photographs, I realize that they preserve much more than a family picnic.

They preserve blessings.

They preserve traditions.

They preserve relationships.

Most importantly, they preserve our connection with the land where our family's story once began.

And perhaps that is the greatest gift photographs can give us—they allow memories to remain alive long after the moment has passed.

Laughter makes every pilgrimage unforgettable.

Candid moments often become our favourite memories.

Family traditions are not only preserved in history books—they live on through journeys, prayers, conversations, and photographs.

This visit to Mungipa Baba, Tosham Hills, reminds me that every generation should know its roots, cherish its heritage, and pass these stories on with love.

As time moves forward, these memories become priceless treasures for the generations that follow.

Note:

These photographs were taken during our family visit to Mungipa Baba, Tosham Hills, in October 2015. I am sharing them today from my personal photo archives because some memories become more meaningful with time.

A Small Request to My Readers

Thank you for spending a few moments with my family's memories.

If this post reminded you of your own hometown, your ancestors, or a special family journey, I'd love to hear about it.

Have you ever visited Tosham Hills or Mungipa Baba?

What place in your life holds the deepest memories?

Please share your thoughts in the comments below. Your words encourage me to continue sharing more stories from my memory archives.

Thank you for visiting my blog. See you again with another cherished memory!

XO

Inheriting Art, Remembering Love

Today, an old post from my blog unexpectedly surfaced, pulling me back through the corridors of time. It was 2013, a difficult and quiet time in the ICU while my mother was undergoing treatment. Looking at these photos, I can still feel the weight of those moments. While Mom fought for her health, I sat by her side, my hands busy with pink thread, working on a 'Pineapple Square'. It wasn’t just a pattern; it was a labor of love, a silent prayer for her recovery, and a way to feel connected to her in that sterile room.

In memory of MOM

XO

Now Mom was a master of crochet. She tried to teach me so many times, but I just couldn't grasp it then. After losing her, I felt a deep determination to learn this craft in her honor. Today, I can finally crochet 'Granny Squares', and I love it. Every time I pick up the hook, I feel her presence guiding my fingers. Moving from that unfinished pineapple square in the ICU to the squares I create today has been a healing journey. These threads are more than just yarn; they are the unbreakable bond between a mother and daughter. I didn't just learn a technique; I inherited a piece of her heart. Mom, I miss you every day. This craft is my tribute to you. xoxo

A Journey Through Time: From 1990 to Today

There is a unique joy in revisiting old photographs; they are like windows to our soul.

Today, as I curated this collage from the archives of my old blog post, I felt as if time had stood still. This photograph takes me back to 1990, a pivotal chapter of my life when I was pursuing my M.Sc. in Family Resource Management at the prestigious CCS HAU, Hisar. Those were days of simplicity, big dreams, and academic rigor. The foundation laid in those corridors of HAU has been the guiding force of my life. Even after retirement, my journey hasn't paused; instead, it has found a new purpose. Today, serving as the President/Secretary of an NGO, I am dedicated to the cause of Women Empowerment—a mission whose seeds were likely sown during my university days. It feels like only yesterday when we were learning the nuances of resource management. Today, sharing those experiences to make women self-reliant and aware brings an unparalleled sense of fulfillment. Our recent workshop on 'Consumer Awareness' in February was a reminder that education never truly ends; it simply evolves to serve society. This collage is more than just a collection of frames; it is a reflection of my evolving identity—from a dedicated student and professional to a social advocate today. The memories may be old, but the inspiration they provide is timeless. XOXO

A Journey into Nostalgia: Finding Old Memories on the Road from Hisar to Jind

Life often presents us with unexpected moments that take us back in time. On a recent trip from Hisar to Jind, we decided to break our journey near a verdant field. There, under the bright sun, a mother and her son were diligently weeding the soil.

A simple pause on the road from Hisar to Jind took me straight back to my roots. 

Seeing a mother and son working together in the fields brought back fond memories of my own days weeding bajra. 

Their dedication to the task was heartwarming. The mother, draped in a traditional suit and dupatta, bent rhythmically, her experienced hands carefully working the soil around the young saplings. Beside her, her son, a young boy in shorts and a light shirt, followed her lead, already mastering the ancient art of cultivation. The shared rhythm of their labor was a beautiful testament to their bond and their deep connection to the land.

Sometimes together.

Sometimes ahead, sometimes behind.

Compition with each other.

Its me-In the middle of the field, holding the essence of nature—Amaranthus.

As we stood there, chatting with them, the sight of their hard work instantly transported me back to my own childhood. I remember being in our family field, performing the exact same task – weeding Kapas/cotton. Those were long days filled with the smell of the earth and the satisfaction of seeing the crops thrive under our care.

Rooted in sweet memories. A quiet moment in the fields between Hisar and Jind that bridged past and present. 

The fields we were standing in looked lush, much like the one in this picture, with young plants just starting to flourish. It reminded me that while years may pass, the fundamental connection between people and nature, and the timeless tradition of farming, remains unchanged. This unexpected stop on our journey turned into a beautiful journey into nostalgia, reminding me of my roots and the enduring spirit of rural life.

xo