A Cambridge Rathayatra Miracle

Every year, Rathayatra serves as a reminder that Lord Jagannath is not a distant deity — He is personal, present, and deeply involved in the lives of His devotees. This year, on the 5th of July 2025, during the third annual Cambridge Rathayatra, I witnessed this truth unfold in a way I will never forget.

As part of the ISKCON Cambridge team, I had been closely involved in organising the festival. Our team worked tirelessly for months — preparing plans, coordinating with authorities, collecting risk assessments, arranging volunteers, kirtan, prasadam, and logistics. Every detail was accounted for, every responsibility prayerfully executed. We had applied for the necessary permissions in March, and on 22nd May, the City Council granted us approval to proceed. Everything was on track — at least on the surface.

Ten days before the festival, I contacted the council requesting the keys to the park gate and the two bollards that needed to be lowered for the chariot to pass. We received the keys six days before the event. Yet, despite everything appearing in order, I couldn’t sleep. For nights, something disturbed me — an uneasiness I couldn’t quite name. As the day approached, my anxiety grew – what if the keys didn’t work? What if the bollards remained locked?

Three days before the festival, I decided to clarify everything. I emailed the council again: Are the bollards part of the same key bunch? Will they be lowered in time for the chariot procession? The response was devastating — no. The council had forgotten to inform the Highway Agency, who alone had the authority to lower the bollards. Panic set in.

I requested contact details for the responsible person. They gave me an email. I immediately reached out, explaining that the festival was just two days away. To my astonishment, the gentleman responded with complete surprise — he had no idea the event was happening. He asked for all the risk assessments and permits again, which I sent him immediately.

Then, late on the night before Rathayatra, his reply came. It was a flat disapproval. He informed me that an entirely separate application was required for permission — something we had not been asked to do in the past two years. He told me to cancel the procession. I sat there, stunned.

There was no time left. No backup plan. No alternate path. Just a blocked route, an official denial, and the weight of so many devotees’ expectations. I didn’t want to alarm the rest of the team, so I quietly informed only the head steward. We agreed to face the situation calmly in the morning and do our best.

Before leaving for the event the next day, I stood before Lord Jagannath — beautifully dressed and ready for His chariot. I looked into His wide, compassionate eyes and asked, ‘Why, my Lord? Why place me in such a predicament when all I wanted was to serve You?’ I fell at His feet and surrendered. There was nothing more I could do. With a final prayer, I grabbed a hammer from the garage — just in case — and placed it in my bag, hoping I wouldn’t have to use it.

We arrived at the park. A few of us walked ahead to inspect the path. And there they were — both bollards up and locked. The way was completely blocked. We asked nearby shopkeepers if they had keys — no one did. We went to the Grafton Centre security office, but they were equally clueless.

As disappointment began to settle, one of the devotees who had gone ahead met a lady at the far end of the shopping centre. She wasn’t even a security official — but she thought she might have keys that matched. She willingly agreed to come and try. She returned with the devotee, and we watched as she tried the keys.

Click.
The first bollard dropped.
She tried the second.
Click.
It dropped too.
It was 10:50 a.m. Our procession was to begin at 12 p.m.
No arguments. No hammer. No damage. No delay.
Just divine timing.

The Lord Makes His Own Arrangements

As I stood there, stunned and relieved, I realised what had just unfolded was not coincidence — it was kripa, the mercy of Lord Jagannath. This wasn’t just about metal bollards. It was about faith, about how the Lord arranges everything for His devotee when that devotee surrenders — completely and without reservation. No hammer required, just unconditional surrender, that’s it.
All the anxiety, the emails, the planning — none of it could have moved those bollards.
But the Lord could. He simply waited for me to let go.

The Reliever of All Anxieties

In the sacred texts, the Lord is described as bhakta-vatsala — the lover and protector of His devotees. And on that day, in the streets of Cambridge, I understood that truth deeply. He truly is Jagannath — the Lord of the Universe — and the Lord of the heart.

When we serve Him with sincerity, and when obstacles block our way, we don’t need to force them down. We only need to fall at His feet and surrender. He will move the bollards. He will make the path. And He will ride in triumph — not just through the streets, but through the surrendered hearts of His devotees.

Jai Jagannath!

by Sarveshwar Nitai Das