a yoga retreat with Bharat Thakur into the heart of Shoonya – Miss Junebug

There are some places that don’t just welcome you, they call to you. And, the holy city of Haridwar is one of them. Cradled between the gentle slopes of the Himalayas and the eternal flow of the Ganga, this sacred city has always held a quiet pull on my spirit. And earlier this month, I answered that call. This April, I was fortunate to be a part of something truly transformative – Shoonya: The Seeds of Stillness, a meditative retreat led by yogi Dr Bharat Thakur. Sometimes, the most profound journeys don’t take you far—but deep within. Shoonya was one of those journeys for me. Hosted at the serene Artistic Yoga Research Center, the retreat wasn’t just about learning yoga or meditation techniques but it was about returning to something I had forgotten in a long time. Here, I reconnected with nature’s stillness, presence, and the deeper rhythm of being.

A Retreat Like No Other

The word Shoonya means “zero” or “nothingness,” and what I experienced at the short retreat was the principles of life. Each day unfolded like a spiritual symphony, composed of sunrise meditations by the Ganga, deep yogic practices, sacred fire rituals, and soulful dialogues that stayed with me long after the sessions ended.

One evening, as the sun dipped low behind the mountains, I joined the group for a walk along the riverbed — barefoot, through cool white sand and smooth pebbles. The Ganga flowed beside us, ageless and alive. When we reached a quiet stretch of the riverbank, I stepped into the icy waters and let the current carry me. That moment of being in cold, raw, and wild river felt like a experience for the lifetime. The kind of experience that doesn’t just wash over your skin, but over your entire being.

Learning Stillness from a Master

Dr. Bharat Thakur’s presence is magnetic—both rooted and expansive. What struck me most was not just what he taught, but how he embodied it. “Stillness is not something you achieve; it’s something you remember. The mind doesn’t need to be silenced—just undisturbed,” he said during one of the sessions.” The words of wisdom resontated with a lot of people, who came from all parts of the world to attend the workshop. Yoga, under his guidance, was no longer a performance or postural achievement. It became an intimate art of listening to breath, to movement, to stillness itself. I didn’t have to do anything. I just had to be.

Sound, Silence, and the Soul

One of the most unforgettable evenings was a musical offering by Padma Shri Dr Soma Ghosh, a legend in Hindustani classical music. Her voice rising and falling with the cadence of ancient devotion seemed to blur the lines between the material and the divine. She sang Shiv Tandav, Thumri, Dadra, and Khayal like they were invocations, each note dissolving into silence. “When music arises from silence, it becomes yoga,” she said. And that night we learned about the power of music and how it heals the soul.

Conversations That Stirred the Soul

The retreat also brought together powerful voices in wellness and cultural preservation. In one conversation, Dr. Thakur spoke with Princess Mohena Kumari Singh, who shared her experience of classical dance as a sacred practice. “Dance is not a performance,” she said. “It’s divine presence in motion.” In another dialogue, Shweta Kumari Rathore of the Jodhpur royal family reflected on the wisdom of stillness. “Healing begins when we return to our roots, to the stories in the soil,” she said. Her words made me think of my own roots, my own inner soil I hadn’t tended to in a long time.

The Takeaway:

Shoonya wasn’t a “retreat” in the conventional sense. There were no spa treatments or structured wellness routines. Instead, it offered something rarer : an insight to my inner being. It took me to a quiet and honest space. Space to unlearn and remember. From silent meals to walking meditations, Ganga dips to temple visits, my recent trip to Haridwar with Goodword Media was laced with intention. I didn’t just observe stillness. I felt it. I lived it. I learned that true rest doesn’t come from escape, it comes from alignment.

As we wrapped up the final day, there were no teary goodbyes. Only a soft, collective knowing that this wasn’t an end—it was a beginning. I came back home carrying something quieter, stronger, and far more grounding than any souvenir: a renewed sense of self, and the gentle memory of stillness.