Why Do We Still Climb the Hill? The Psychology Behind Goa’s Three Kings Feast

Arishma Gomes
14 minutes ago
3 min read

Every year, on the 6th of January, something remarkable happens in South Goa. Long before the sun rises, people begin walking, some slowly, some with purpose, some with devotion, towards a hill crowned by a small white chapel.

At first glance, the Three Kings Feast appears to be a simple village celebration. However, upon closer examination, it becomes clear that this tradition taps into something far deeper within us—our longing for community, identity, belonging, and the stories we tell ourselves about who we are.

This is why the feast continues to survive.

This is why the climb continues.

This is why the hill still calls.

A Tradition That Lives in the Mind Before It Lives in the Village

The Three Kings Feast is tied to the biblical story of the Magi: three wise men who travelled miles to witness something extraordinary. But in Goa, the narrative takes on a unique cultural shape.

Three boys from Cansaulim, Arossim, and Cuelim are chosen to become the symbolic kings. They wear crowns, ride decorated horses, and lead a procession up the hill to the Three Kings Chapel.

Yet the power of this ritual isn’t in the spectacle, it’s in what it represents.

Psychologically, rituals help people:

Feel connected to their roots
Find meaning in collective traditions
Experience identity through shared stories
Anchor themselves in moments larger than their individual lives

The Three Kings feast is essentially Goa’s annual reminder that we are part of a story that began long before us and will continue long after.

The Hill: A Place of Legends, Layers, and Quiet Gravity

The Three Kings Chapel stands atop one of the most intriguing hills in Goa. Some say it’s blessed. Some say it’s haunted. Some say it’s magnetic.

But ask the villagers, and they’ll tell you something simpler:

This hill remembers.

It remembers the kings who once argued for power.
It remembers the faith of generations who climbed it every January.
It remembers the stories whispered into its winds.

From a psychological lens, places like this tap into our instinctive fascination with the mystical and the unknown. They blur the line between belief and imagination—one of the oldest and most powerful forms of human storytelling.

This is why thousands gather here every year.
This is why the hilltop feels different.
This is why standing at the chapel always feels like standing at the edge of something timeless.