It has been a calling many times in recent years.

Somewhere I knew I had to go there, but it was never planned anytime soon.

When we started our trip to the places we had planned, we had already finished the toughest trek at Gandikota. We went before sunrise, watched the view, completed the trek, refreshed ourselves, and then started towards other temples on our list. But somehow, without much thought, we ended up heading towards Ahobilam.

None of us had watched any vlogs or guides about the place. We had absolutely no clue what awaited us. The plan was simple, reach, have darshan within an hour, spend another hour taking photos, then continue to Mahanandi or Yaganti within a similar timeframe, complete the day, and wind up the trip.

We started towards Ahobilam planning to reach before the temple closed for the afternoon. We aimed for 12:30 and reached Eguva Ahobilam around 12:40. Leaving our footwear in the car, we began walking barefoot.

For about 15 minutes we walked enjoying the panoramic views of the rocky terrain, shrines, and seeing the gopuram, assuming we would soon stand in the queue for darshan. That’s when someone nearby told us, “This is Eguva Ahobilam. First go to Jwala Narasimha Swamy. It takes time.” But no one mentioned how much time.

So we started walking, climbing steep rocks, crossing rocky riverbeds, moving through narrow forest paths. And this went on… for nearly two hours.


Without food or water, we kept moving, stopping for a few minutes here and there. Walking barefoot was painful, sharp stones piercing the feet at every step. Since it was a weekend, many pilgrims were on the route, including devotees from the Hare Krishna movement.

At some points we asked people for water, but most were saving what little they had for themselves. After hours of walking, we finally reached the steps, and after climbing around 250 steps, we reached Jwala Narasimha Swamy temple, the place where, according to the sthala purana, Narasimha Swamy’s anger reached its peak when He tore apart Hiranyakashipu.

Nearby we saw Rakthagundam, believed to be the place where the Lord washed His hands after slaying Hiranyakashipu, just like we’ve seen in Mahavatar Narasimha Movie


By then it was already past 4 PM. We were exhausted, hungry, and barely able to move. And then we noticed a steep climb further up the hill. Many people stopped there, saying it’s not easy for everyone. It was almost an 85-degree climb using ropes, with no proper steps.

That was another surprise waiting for us.

We thought of returning, but one of our friends suddenly climbed ahead without telling us. We shouted for him to come back, but he didn’t listen. We assumed he would return soon, so we continued towards Jwala Narasimha darshan thinking he was behind us, but he wasn’t.

At that steep point, people gave different estimates, some said one hour more, some two, some three. No clarity.

Most people had shoes and supplies. We had none. After arguing among ourselves, we decided we had to wait for our friend anyway, and since there was no network signal in the deep Nallamala forest region, we had no way to contact him. So instead of going down, we decided to climb.

Luckily we didn’t go back. Waiting below would have been worse. Read till the end.

After about 20 minutes of climbing, our bodies began giving up. Throats completely dry, hunger worsening, feet aching terribly on rough terrain. My stomach felt completely empty, craving even a small sweet or snack. I remember imagining bananas, chocolates, anything edible.

One wrong step there, and it felt like the end. That’s how scary it was.

Still thinking the top must be nearby, we continued climbing using the rope. It was tricky, people climbing up and down used the same narrow rope path. Lose grip, and you slip.

Midway, we saw people sliding down slowly, their clothes covered in mud. Later we understood, climbing up is easier than coming down. Descending requires lowering your body slowly, sometimes sliding, especially when there’s nothing strong to hold.

Further ahead, some Hare Krishna devotees gave way for people to pass. One of them looked at my face and asked, “Do you want something to eat?” Without hesitation I said yes, my inner voice almost screaming.

He gave me a banana. I almost had tears of relief, exactly what I had been craving. Then he gave another, and two more for my friends. And sensing we still needed energy, he gave a small packet of murmura too.

It honestly felt like what I prayed for just appeared in front of me saying, “Eat and keep going.” Tears rolled down my eyes.

Still, water was scarce. A little further, someone offered us a sip of water.

Throughout this trek, none of this was planned. We even thought of skipping it earlier. Everyone around us had footwear, food, and water. We had nothing.

It felt like an extreme body workout. Many overtook us, but we kept moving meter by meter. Finally, we met our friend who had reached the top and was coming down. After a heated argument blaming him, someone mentioned buttermilk was available at the top. That gave us new hope.

Encouraged, we climbed further and finally saw flags just ahead. The evening panoramic view was breathtaking. But someone told us this wasn’t the final point. We still had to go down around 50 feet crossing a narrow rock passage.

Our legs were already shaking from hunger and exhaustion. To our disappointment, the buttermilk seller had run out. Somehow we gathered courage and reached Ugra Stambh — the sacred Narasimha Swamy Paadaalu. Standing there at the cliff, doing pradakshina around the chakra and Paadaalu, with strong winds blowing, was both divine and terrifying.


Breathing heavily, muscles cramping, throats dry, we somehow completed the darshan. Nearby sat a woman, wife of the tribal guardian of the place, selling guavas. We bought and ate peacefully. Surprisingly, we even got mobile signal at that height, over 1000 meters above sea level.


Then began the descent.

We walked down with a family who also moved slowly together. Soon it became completely dark before we even reached Jwala Narasimha temple again. Thankfully, our friend who came down earlier had collected water from Rakthagundam and waited for us.

In total darkness, inside forest terrain, we moved with mobile flashlights. Many times we lost the way since there were no signboards, only rocky riverbeds and forest paths. Mobile torchlight barely showed the path.


And then suddenly, the buttermilk seller appeared again and guided us safely back to the starting point. It was already 8 PM.

Reading this may not give the same feeling, but what we experienced felt guided. Something pushed us, protected us, and gave us strength when we needed it.

Some may call it psychological relief after fear. But the calling, the timing, the help we received, none of it felt like coincidence. Had we watched vlogs beforehand, we might have skipped Ahobilam or at least Ugra Stambh, maybe due to time or fear.

Experience that divine energy at least once in your lifetime. You cannot attempt such treks when age or health no longer allows it.

You can't go tirupati unless he calls you. 
You can't go to thiruvannamalai unless he calls
Same way You can't go to Ahobilam (ugra stambham trek) unless he calls you

Infact any power full place. 

we did 4km actual trek to jwala narasimha and then 3km trek from jawala to ugrastambh.
total of 8km trek from the place where we left our chappal
on total of 10km trek.

Stalpuranam article: https://www.ahobilamutt.org/us/information/visitingahobilam.asp 

If you know you know.
U can't feel it unless you experience it.

Om Namo Narayanaya.
Om Namo naarasimhaya namah.
Om Namo bhagavate vasudevaya namah.