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Our destination was
Netwar in the Tons Valley where we arrived from Dehra Dun after a
grueling nine hours journey by bus, first along the river Yamuna and
then along the Tons. In the morning when we opened our eyes, we were
delighted to be in the midst of pine-clad mountains.
Unlike in Garhwal,
Kinnaur and the Kulu Valley, where the Pandavas (the heroes of the
epic Mahabharatha) are considered the righteous ones and are shown
reverence, in the Tons Valley people are over-awed by the Kauravas
the wrong doers, and worship them as gods. In Jakhol, 13 kilometres
from sankri is the biggest temple dedicated to Duryodhan, the eldest
of the kauravas and many more exit in Osla, Gangar, and Datmir. The
temple of Karna, the first born of Kunti from the Sun God whom she
had abandoned at birth and who had become an ally of the Kauravas, is
in Netwar, 30 minutes walk away from the road. There are two other
gods whom tahe people in this valley worship. One of them is Mahasu
whose temple is in Anol and another is Pokhu, whose temple is in the
old village of Netwar at the confluence of the Rupin and supin
revers, which meet at Netwar to form the Tons.
The people of this valley
had allied themselves with the Kauravas in the battle of
Mahabharatha, and in due course they accepted them as gods and raised
imposing temples of Duryodhana and Karna. Lataer on it seems they
began to respect the Pandavas and started to worship then in the
temples. Durind Shandaracharya’s times, Shiv puja came to this
valley and shivlings were installed in these temples.
The temple of Karna is
situated in the village, Deora. It is a rectangular wood structure
with pent roofs lined with slates. On the roof is a wooden umbrella
topped with brass finial. The wood beams and columns in front are
decorated with carvings of exquisite charm while the temple doors are
decorated with relief metal plates which depict birds, animals,
reptiles and scenes from the Ramayana. The villagers have nailed on
coins wherever space permitted in thanksgiving for their wishes
having been fulfilled. In the compound on the right stand six
miniature temples which represent Karna and the five Pandavas. After
all they were Karna’s brothers. There is also a shivling, a
sculpture of Parvati and one of Nandi Bull in the compound. Although
no one objected to my taking photographs, I was warned of impending
misfortune.
As we came out of the
temple, we saw a potter shaping pitchers. He was not using a wheel.
Instead he spread kneaded earth first on the upper half and then on
the lower half of a brass pitcher and finally joined them together.
Outside the temple
compound are the grounds where a ‘festival of ball’ takes
place annually on Makar Sankranti. The two teams are named Kauravas
and Pandavas. The hide of a dead cow is stuffed with stones and earth
so that it shapes into a big ball weighing about 8 to 10
kilograimmes. The ball represents Ghatotkach, the warrior son of Bhim
and Hidimba, (whom he had married after killing her demon brother
Hidimb in an encounter in Doongri woods near Manali in the Kulu
Valley). Ghatotkach had been killed by Karna in the battle of
Mahagharatha and the object in naming the ball Ghatotkach and playing
with it in the temple of karna seems to be to humiliate the
vanquished. In the evening the ball is worshipped and thrown in the
middle of the ground and the players rush to grab it. If the ball
falls into the hands of a member of the Kaurava team it is said that
the year will be bad, but if it falls into the hands of a member of
the Pandavda team, it is taken as a sign of prosperity for the entire
valley. Meanwhile the village orchestra of drums, cymabals and pipes
plays louder and louder and the entire population of the nearby
villages assembles to winess the game. The two teams try to take the
ball to their side of the ground. The holder does not relent. In that
case he is physically pushed from side to side.
The villages which fall
under the jurisdiction of Raja Karna are administered by him through
his priest. Karna goes about the villages, a beautiful mask draped in
colourful clothes and seated in a palanquin, once every year with the
residents of Deora accompanying him.
God Mahasu is said to
have been invited to this valley from Kashmir to kill the demon
Kirbir and to rid the people of his terror. Pokhu Devta’s temple
is very similar to the temple of Karna in shape, but the inside of
the temple bears a depressing look. The sacrificial altar has
splashes of dried bllod on it. In the inner chamber a shivling is
installed. Pokhul’s chamber is behind the shivling. Pokhu is a
deputy of Karna and an attendant of Lord Shiva. He is terrible and
unrelenting in punishing his erring followers. Therefore the
incidence of theft in this valley is ungeard of. The god is not shown
to anyone as his image will create horror. It is for this reason that
even the priest, while worshipping him, stands with his back towards
him.
From Netwar, Har-Ki-Doon
is about 50 kilometres. Sankri, I stopped to have tea at a wayside
shop and learnt that Duryodhana Devta was up in Kotgaon, 20 minutes
walk away from the road. He had come there to meet Kush Devta, on his
way back to Jakhol after a pilgrimage to Kedamath and Badrinath. I
immediately decided to visit Kotgaon and reached the place where the
worship was being conducted. God Duryodhana and Kush were seated side
by side under a shamiana and were being worshipped by the priests.
The entire village had assembled there in a festive mood. Girls and
women had come in their colourful best. They wore lots of silver
jewellaery and sang tuneful songs to a loud orchestra. In the
background beautiful snow-clad peaks stood majestically. After about
an hour I traced my steps back to the road and reached Sankri. From
Sandri another nine kilometres walk took me to Taluka.
Eight years ago, I had
come straight to Taluka from Uttarkashi in a jonga as a guest of the
Nehru institute of Mountaineering. Then we had stayed in the Forest
Rest House. The stay at Taluka and journey to Osla evoked nostalgia.
We walked through a beautiful jungle of chestnuts, oaks,
rhododendrons and deodars along the Supin where a dozen streams of
ice cold water rolled down the mountains. The path went up, it passed
by the route which leads to Datmir. Gangar is half way between Taluka
and Osla on the right bank of the Supin and both of them are imposing
villages. We spent the night at Seema opposite Osla on the left bank
of the river.
The next day we climbed
steadily all the way on the right bank of the river across the
bridge. The increasing altitude compelled us to take frequent breaks.
In the distance we saw the Swargarohini peak over which the Pandavas
and Draupadi had climbed to heaven. We passed through a flat area
where there were fields and a few houses and then through dense woods
of conifer where glaciers rolled down on to the track. In front we
saw the big rock mass of Har-Ki-peak. An eight hour leisurely walk
took us to Her-Ki-Doon, the Valley of Gods, amidst snow clad
mountains. The Supin river sang melodies and the mountain peak
provided a beautiful backdrop. Across the river, over a rock bridge
the Swargarohini peaks stood magnificently. Here a beautiful rest
house constructed by the Garhwal mandal Vikas Nigam faces the three
Swargarohini peaks. The vlley has been declared a wildlife sanctuary.
It was nearing sunset.
The snow on the top of the peaks blushed pink while they seemed to
stand still in an ocean of silver grey. Soon it became dark and very
cold. Another spectacle awaited us at night. The peaks shone silver
bright as the full moon appeared in the sky.
In the morning a
brilliant sunrise greeted us. We walked along the base of the
Swargarohini peaks, through flower studded meadows. We drank cold
clear water from small streams and many pools along the way. Jamdar
Glacier is not far away. And yet another colourful sunset and moonlit
night awaited us at the end of the day.
When on the second
morning we bade goodbye to this heaven-on-earth, our hearts felt the
pangs of separation. On my way back in the evening I went to Osla
villave. I had photographs and portrait sketches of the people I had
met eight years ago and my son had met on his visit last year. The
villagers received these with excitement, reciniscing aqbout our last
visit. It was a wrench leaving these simple villavers but our weekend
trip was over and the return to Delhi inevitable.
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