Shivaratri: A Day of Alignment

Published: 15th February 2026

Category: Others

As a child, Shivaratri was one of my most disliked occasions. The reason was simple: despite being a festival, it came wrapped in restrictions.

Wake up before dawn. Go to the temple. Fast. Practice abstinence. Stay awake through the night because, I was told, "this is the one night Lord Shiva sleeps, and we must keep vigil while he rests. On other days, we sleep and he guards us."

It felt like a poor bargain. No sweets. No fireworks. Holiday from school being the only redeeming feature.

Years later, that perception changed, quietly but completely.

A chance visit to the Vadakkumnathan Temple in Thrissur became an unexpected turning point. I arrived late, as city habits tend to die hard. While waiting near the nada (gates) for darshan to resume, I struck up a conversation with an ambalavasi, one of the temple caretakers.

He quickly recognized the "tourist" in me, and perhaps the ignorance as well. As we waited, he spoke, with lived familiarity about Shiva and the stories and practices surrounding the deity.

It was then that I began to see that Shivaratri is unlike most Hindu festivals. In fact, I am no longer certain it should be called a festival at all. It is closer to a day of "alignment".

Most festivals are outward-facing. They are social occasions of interaction, exchange and (noisy) celebration. Diwali fills the sky with light; Holi fills the air with color. The template is familiar:

• Pooja
• Feasting
• Celebration, often loud
• Visiting family and friends
• Social interaction and, usually, excess

In short, festivals temporarily suspend discipline. They are "sanctioned deviations" from routine; cheat codes in the rhythm of daily life. They act like passes for indulgence: rich food, sweets, rest, spectacle.

Shivaratri reverses that template entirely.

Its practices are austere:

• Fasting or minimal food
• Wakefulness through the night
• Maintaining an upright posture
• Focused chanting or meditation

Those who observe it deeply often choose solitude over festivity. Even in temple gatherings, the core act remains interior. The celebration is not communal excitement but personal concentration.

The instruction, if one listens carefully, is simple: sit upright, stay awake, become aware of your axis, and align yourself with something larger than habit and impulse.

At first glance, this can appear joyless, somber, even severe. But the joy here is not stimulation but clarity. It is the relief that comes from subtraction rather than accumulation. Think about the feeling you get when you go on a trek where you are forced to be minimalist.

Shivaratri is not about adding anything to life. It is about shedding excess until what remains is steady.

Its timing reinforces this. It falls on the darkest night of the lunar cycle unlike other festivals which peak in daylight or brightness. Remaining awake through the night is both symbolic and functional. Darkness represents unconsciousness; wakefulness represents deliberate awareness.

There are no fireworks, no colors, no exchange of gifts, no feasting or noise for that matter.

Only restraint and stillness with an invitation to align with an inner axis that does not depend on circumstance.

Shivaratri is not a celebration of abundance but is a reminder of what is the bare minimal core. And in a world that constantly asks us to consume, react, and perform, perhaps the rarest form of celebration is the one that asks us simply to sit upright, remain awake, and return to cosmic order.

The vigil is not for the deity's sleep; it is for our own awakening.

Happy Mahashivratri!!