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Where
Believers Go Marching In! The
four pilgrim centres, the char dhams of the Garhwal Himalayas, have
always been coveted as the ultimate destination
The
term yatra is one of those un-translatable words. It is specific to a
culture. Words like ‘journey’ or even ‘pilgrimage’
don’t measure up to it. While it combines both, its connotation
goes much beyond. It is more like an irreversible onward journey
usually, but not necessarily, in large groups. In earlier times,
devout Hindus in their old age undertook these arduous journeys to
visit and experience the various religious places strewn all over
India. There was a sense of finality in the manner in which the
family members saw the yatris off since there was a lot of
uncertainty about their coming back. It was not only because the
journeys were hazardous but also because in Hinduism old age is the
time to take leave of your worldly engagements and to get completely
immersed in the act of seeking the Divine. The sense of purpose,
therefore, was much more. We decided to go on a yatra. During the
entire journey we were struck by the power of the stories that live
on in people’s minds in their collective memory. Each of these
places revealed a different facet of the Hindu spirituality in our
country.
Badrinath:
Where Buddha became Vishnu
We
were on our way in a rickety old-fashioned bus carrying intrepid
pilgrims on a very narrow and precipitous road that clung to the
barren stone cliffs. Most of these pilgrims were sixty-plus and they
were all bound for Badrinath. Buses and trucks carried huge hoardings
like paintings of Shri Badri Vishal ; large calendar cut-outs adorned
the walls of wayside tea-stalls. Everywhere these inescapable images
assaulted our eyes. One such image travelled astride our bus
providing a mantle of protection to the inmates on this perilous
journey. Almost everyone inside was occupied in singing bhajans
(devotional songs) or reciting religious hymns; some loudly, some by
moving their lips silently. They were all in high spirits in
anticipation of the darshan (worship) of Shri Badri Vishalji at the
end of the day.
Suddenly
they stopped singing and praying and diverted their attention to a
more immediate problem. An army truck had come up from the opposite
side, and where our bus stood now, the road was not broad enough to
allow another vehicle to pass through. Therefore it had to reverse
several yards to be able to find a suitably broad patch, which it
did, but not before a few hair-raising manoeuvres. As I peered out
of my window my eyes rested on a sheer drop and I hastily looking
away. Looking around I found the others quite relaxed. Although they
were following the proceedings keenly I did not sense any fear in
them. While I was trying to pin my hopes on the presumption that the
driver had a lot of experience on these treacherous roads, they had
simply left it to God Almighty. That was the first time I had a
glimpse of the great reservoir of spirituality that Indians draw upon
on such occasions.
Badrinath
is one of the most revered shrines of India. It is situated on the
Nar-Narayan Parvat with the towering Neelkanth Peak in the
background. On the banks of the wild and turbulent river Alakananda
is the temple of Badrinath. Adi Guru Sri Shankaracharya installed an
idol of Vishnu here. The four-handed figure bears an uncanny
resemblance to a seated figure of Buddha. In fact, a whole lot of
controversy surrounds this place. The idol was found in the
Brahmakund, a hot water well nearby. At a time when Hinduism was in a
state of decadence and confusion and Buddhism was gaining ground,
Sri Shankaracharya took up the challenge of reinstating it to its
former glory. He delved into every aspect of the religion, wrote
profusely and travelled through the length and breadth of India
setting up temples and Maths, (monasteries where sanyasis could carry
out their enquiries in seclusion uninterrupted by worldly worries).
Was the idol at Badrinath temple an original Buddha figure
reincarnated as Hindu Vishnu? And even so, was it all that relevant I
wondered. After all, Buddha has been incorporated in the dasavatars
(ten incarnations) as a reincarnation of Lord Vishnu. No such
thoughts seemed to fester the hundreds of devotees all around us.
Their minds were too full of devotion to bother with such questions.
Kedarnath:
The secret Hideout of Shiva
The
heroes of the legend here are the Pandavas. Driven by the guilt of
having killed their own kith and kin in the Kurukshetra war they
sought the blessings of Lord Shiva for redemption. He eluded them
repeatedly and while fleeing he took refuge at Kedarnath in the form
of a bull. On being followed he dived into the ground, leaving his
hump on the surface; Bhima held on to the hump and pulled him out.
We
reached Kedarnath after a nearly level, uneventful trek of 14
kilometres from Gaurikund. The manner in which the temple of
Kedarnath comes into view is dramatic. Because of elevation factors,
it is not seen till you are nearly right in front of it when suddenly
it emerges out of the untidy sprawl of rocks and mountains in all its
glory. It is a magnificent stone edifice dating back to the 8th
century, against a breathtaking backdrop of the Kedarnath range.
Taking a few steps I was at another important shrine here — Sri
Shankaracharya’s samadhi. At the age of 33 he passed away while
still in meditation at this spot. There is a simple stone figure of
this sagacious young philosopher of Hinduism who was from a small
village in Kerala. He preached ‘Adwaitaism’ (the doctrine
that dictates that there is only one God) and whose contribution in
the revival movement for Hinduism is unparalleled. I glanced back at
the imposing Kedarnath temple. The carvings on its surface looked
unreal and strange from this perspective. The top was reminiscent of
a Buddhist pagoda. Once again I lapsed into surmising that this was
once a Buddhist shrine. Suddenly the bells at the Kedarnath temple
started ringing. The reverberations spread through the valley,
breaking the silence, drowning my misgivings and instantly lifting my
senses into another realm far more refined and satisfying.
Gangotri:
Unbelievers in a Land of Magic
Travelling
up the Ganga, the most re-vered river in India, we encountered the
several tributaries and their confluences, each with its own
composition of Gods, Godesses, temples, priests legends and
worshipers. The innumerable tales intertwine to form a confusing
picture for anyone trying to explain things here by looking at it in
a linear two dimensional manner. For example, at Gangotri, the temple
is dedicated to the river Ganga but the river flowing right next to
it is called Bhagirathi. In Hindu mythology, Ganga did not flow here,
till Bhagirath performed severe tapasyas (penance) in order to
absolve his family of an old curse. Fearing that the impact of this
mighty river as it emerged out of the Himalayas would be too much,
Lord Shiva offered to take her fall on his head. The real hero is
Bhagirath who also worshipped in a small shrine dedicated to him next
to the Ganga temple.
We
trekked from Gangotri to Gaumukh, the actual source of the river
Ganga. The Gangotri glacier is nearly 24 kilometres long and 2-4
kilometres wide. The glacier has receded over the centuries but
during the Vedic period it is said to have extended as far as
Gangotri. The 18-odd kilometres took us over loose moraine and huge
boulders. Mighty snow peaks like Shivling, Gangotri, Bhagirathi I and
II overlooked the route. The land was extremely barren with hardly
any vegetation except some pines at Chirbasa and a patch of birch at
Bhujbasa. At Bhujbasa we entered the realm of ‘Lal Baba’
who is a cross between a God, a sadhu and a social worker. A
remarkable ashram where weary travellers like us get shelter. The
accommodation, if it could be termed that, is spartan. We found the
single dormitory-like room already full of travellers who had reached
before us. But no one is denied shelter here. After a hot meal of
khichri (rice cooked with lentils) we set out to complete the final
4 kilometres to the mouth of the glacier. The glacier is so named
because it resembles the mouth of a cow. The comparison eluded me but
what I did get to see was this awesome landscape strangely derelict.
Not a warm and welcoming sight at all. In fact, the temperature was
very low. I knew I would never be pardoned back home if I did not
carry back some Gangajal from the source! A cutting sensation gripped
me as I tried to put my hand in the water. I was stunned to see an
old sadhu (mendicant) plunge into the waters completely ignoring its
chilling effect. I remembered that it was an excellent technique of
purgation.
Back
at Lal Baba’s Ashram we found this group of overweight, aged
women all of whom seemed to be groaning and panting in the rarefied
air. I quickly reached into my rucksack for the medicines we always
carried, capable of handling everything from loose motions, headaches
right down to altitude sickness, in quantities that could treat an
army. An elderly lady of the group placed her hand on me urging me to
stop. “Beti, there is no dearth of medicines here.” She
said. “You see we are all nurses from Howrah Hospital. We are
simply too old for such places.” At this, the other members
joined in and a hot debate ensued about the basic rationale of their
trip. Working on a hunch, I distributed liberal doses of Gangajal
that I had carried back from the source. Within half an hour they had
revived and were marvelling at the magical properties of Gangajal.
You can imagine their embarrassment when I revealed that it had less
to do with the healing properties of Gangajal and more with their
having denied themselves sufficient quantities of water during the
walk — water that is so essential in countering altitude
sickness. A counterpoise to the blind faith of the common man?
Yamunotri:
Where a Lost Soul Shows us the Way
We
encountered here neither the awesome beauty of the Himalayas nor any
spectacular temple architecture. What struck us were these rows and
rows of men and women snailing their way up the steep slopes. Their
frail bodies wrapped in simple cotton worn out thin with use. Looking
at their dusty legs and forlorn expressions, my heart grew heavy with
compassion. They had come all the way from their villages in North
India, miles away, walking through the day and halting for the night
wherever dusk fell. Their travel expenses were modest and they lived
very frugally, carrying grains like rice and lentils in little
bundles and cooking their meals on open fires. They often slept in
the open or in dharamshalas (inns). By way of clothing they were
carrying only what they wore, and a shawl or blanket thrown over
whenever necessitated by the cold. They did their bathing in these
clothes, letting them dry on themselves. Their whole attitude was
totally resigned, never complaining. I will never fully understand
what draws them out of their homes to brave all the hardships on the
roads.
The
trek to Yamunotri is difficult and comparatively uninteresting.
Exhausted by the rigours of the trek we were resting by the wayside
leaning against a rock, when along came this old lady. A diminutive
figure against the mighty Himalayas. Obviously she was part of a big
group but had fallen way behind. But she hardly saw herself in any
kind of trouble and instead thought we were the ones who needed help!
Digging her thin, fragile hand into her small string bag she pulled
out a handful of raisins and misri (sugar candy) and urged us to
refresh our fagging energy levels. Then asking us to take things easy
she carried on up the slope in the most carefree manner and was gone
like an apparition. Just one of those many extraordinary men and
women we had come across on our journey who displayed mettle that we
seldom encounter anywhere else. The tenacity of their faith and inner
goodness never failed to amaze us. It was as though the dehumanizing
effects of modern society had not touched them. I realized they were
neither poor nor did they need our pity. They derived their strength
from the great wealth of spirituality within them.
Information
The
yatra usually begins at Rishikesh. Various operators run bus
services covering all four places including the Garhwal Mandal Vikas
Nigam. Bus services also exist in the individual sectors although
they are often too full.
Cheap-to-moderate
accommodation is available all along the route but during peak season
(May-June), prior booking is advisable.
Yamunotri Gangotri
3,235
metres 3,200 metres
Kedarnath Badrinath
3,581
metres 3,133 metres
Best
season May -October
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