Mountains calling.
(This piece is dedicated to Sri Dhruba Charan Khuntia and Smt Prabhata Nalinee Khuntia who facilitated this journey)
Dear Nita Patra and Saban Parwin. Both of you are enjoying in the Great Himalayas, one in a pilgrimage and the other eternally blessed to stay there is preparing for the Eid with family.
It is interesting that the places you are present at present is also seen by me; Badrinath in 1984 when I was 16 and Kathgodam in 2015 at 47.
The later is chronicled in my novella, "Biography of Love". I beg to write my teen age experience in Badrinath.
In the great summer vacation of post HSC examination, unexpectedly I was forced into a large team of pilgrimage that visited all the Holly places in North India including Swarna Mandir. I was the young guardian of an old couple, my elder sisters parents in law. I called them Bapa and Maa. We stayed back at Jammu while team mates went to Srinagar to preserve our fitness for the other important visit to the mountain shrine of Badrinath. It was early June and India was Marching forward in 1983 World Cup of Cricket under Kapil Dev, radio was the means to listen the commentary.
We reached in early morning at Haridwar. Going in a team organised by experienced tour professionals had the advantage of traveling in the night and sight seeing in the day. We visited different temples and Mutts in Haridwar. Some went to Mansadevi temple. We gathered at Harikipedi at right time to see the spectacular Gangaarati and retired early with the instruction of getting ready, early in the morning to move towards Badrinath.
I was young and energetic but what about these old people who ran almost every day with accommodation in the train compartment that remained stationary at railway stations providing us very secure lodging and reasonably good food. There zest for divine duty kept them active and confident. And they got ready before time.
In the three tire non AC compartment our lodging cum touring apparatus, we three occupied in one side, in our front were a couple and their kid and on the side two seats were a senior citizen couple. In those days officers had no problem in travelling ordinary for the sake of well organized comprehensive tour. I hope now also some people travel like that. We moved as a family with mutual help. I felt very secured with them and they ordered me for small works like fetching water as if I am their child.
Yes we took our seats in a group in the luxury bus in time. The mission was to go directly to Badrinath crossing Joshimutt before the one way traffic restricts the forward journey. For that we kept Rishikesh to see in our return journey.
Probably they hired the best buses with best drivers that made this journey thrilling. A boy from coastal planes was traveling in mountain road typically constructed on the side of river Alakananda. Anytime you see, a wall of tall mountain on one side and the river flowing on the other side at a dangerously low level. The road so curved and narrow added to the adventure. I imagine a boy with a spon half pant a half shirt moving to the land of ice. Forgotten, what protection we had with us against the chilling temperature. Probably the bus had a provision of warming.
In the eighties of last century smoking in public was common. I objected this in the bus with loud and clear voice being encouraged by others in our group. My manner was not very good but purpose was correct and it brought result. There was a doctor in the bus who squeezed my cheek with affection for that.
Bapa has done a serious error. He did not pick up his bag that carried his grains of opium he was addicted to. His sticks for brushing the teeth also was in that bag. Anywhere the bus stopped he ordered me to go and collect twigs from trees for making tooth stick. This was not possible and others chided me. "Rabi, go and collect tooth stick".
Wherever a new stream fell down into the Alakananda they called it a Prayag and there were several such. I remember two; Rudraprayag and Debaprayag. There was arrangement of snacks in the bus.
We had our lunch plan after crossing that one-way traffic in time at Joshimutt, which we did successfully thanking the excellent driver who never became unsafe in his race against time. Sometimes the road was flooded with water from the melting ice from the mountain side.
I had never had such thrilling experience. In a circus or magic show we experience momentary thrills but in a travel on mountains the thrill never ends and as one scales heights one gets more and more adventurous sceneries. If I keep all my other good enjoyments from travels and other activities in one hand and this single journey in the other hand, I feel it would be heavier and more alluring. My age made my enjoyment very special. (Of course my joy in my trekking with friends Santos and Rohit was equally enjoyable at the age of approaching fifty.) Mountain is magnet. Mountain attracted the soul searching people and mountains too attracted ordinary people like us.
The lunch at Joshimutt is still fresh in my memory. A road side eatery provided the best quality thin rice of raw variety (not par boiled). The dal with the not de-husked lentils had very special taste and so was the curry. In general a chance meal in a small hotel in our areas is always painful but there it was so nice. Then too I clearly had an opinion for everything.
We reached at Badrinath at the beautiful Sunset very different. Immediately they guided us to a small room allotted to we three. We hired nine blankets at the rate of three rupees each.
Suddenly bapa suffered from cold, sneezes and shivering. I had no clue to what to do. I was not a doctor then to guess morphine withdrawal. Gradually Maa and I went on covering him with all the blankets, saving one for each of us. We did not sleep the entire night. Acclimatized to the coldest night of my life, in the morning I felt better. With a half pant and shirt I roamed outside in the morning to find out a place to attend the calls of nature. The time was like that I hope the situation now is different with good lodging facility.
Nature has provided warm water in such a place. I always exclaimed, if the hot water flowing here made this place so important that from Vyasadev to Shankaracharya, we can't say how many holy souls worked here or Lord Vishnu blessed this warm water for the devotees.
We went for taking bath.
Being in a hurry I wrongly entered to the women's bathing site. It became more embarrassing for a 16 year old adolescent than to the ladies who of course took me as a child. Soon I went to the right place and remained inside the cistern of water so soothingly warm. All the suffering of the previous night vanished, I was once again rejuvenated with energy. Bapa too became fine after bathing there.
It was time to go for the Darshan. The temple did not look as big as the temple of Lord Jagannath at Puri but the discipline was so nice unlike the chaos we see here. The method of worship so simple. Your offering is thrown in to the collection on a large dish and something is collected from that dish and given to you. You vanish to zero and come back with the blessings and during that process you finish the Darshan the ultimate purpose of going that far. I have never experienced such a simple and equal to all worship in any other place. No one tried to cheat in the name of devotion. The fried dry rice and other dry Prasadam was good to store until you reach back in your home anywhere in India.
I had no interest to ask anyone if it was a truth that the AKHANDADEEP keeps burning for six months when the shrine remained closed. My concern was how to go back safe with the Bapa's health.
When we returned we walked on the LACHHMANJHULA at Rishikesh. After visiting Badrinath one would be less interested to do a quick visit in Rishikesh. I remember the seven storied building temple and nothing else is there in my memory.
More than the shrines and their Lords, the unique journey was a much more fulfilling experience that will be carried forward to my journey to the next birth.
I do not know for what reason I was unexpectedly rewarded this pilgrimage at such a young age. However I am sure this should have been an unfinished but deserving wish in my previous birth.
Once again I want to repeat, from beaches, to woods in the plane land to the magnificent cities to the rivers to any other wonderful place; nothing is stronger than the call of the mountains. Sometimes I feel, that is our original home and the human race migrated to other areas for livelihood.
Age is catching up, responsibilities not permitting, no scope of taking leave and the knees are getting compromised but for sure I hear the call of the mountains; the attraction of the hilly roads invariably on the trail of a river flowing, the woods of Oaks, Pines, Rhodendon, and Goldmohurs of different colors and the peaks covered with white clothes reflecting the sunshine as burning diamonds and all of them calling in silence and calling aloud.
Dear Nita I have heard the place has become a busy market place as good as any other pilgrimage site but as I know, you must have connected your soul to the soul of the Himalayans at Badrinath and nearby Vyasa's cave.
Wish you do a comparative study of progress and regress from 1984 as depicted by me.
And of course Saban I hear the call of your place and we shall be there at the earliest opportunity.
(This piece is dedicated to Sri Dhruba Charan Khuntia and Smt Prabhata Nalinee Khuntia who facilitated this journey)
Dear Nita Patra and Saban Parwin. Both of you are enjoying in the Great Himalayas, one in a pilgrimage and the other eternally blessed to stay there is preparing for the Eid with family.
It is interesting that the places you are present at present is also seen by me; Badrinath in 1984 when I was 16 and Kathgodam in 2015 at 47.
The later is chronicled in my novella, "Biography of Love". I beg to write my teen age experience in Badrinath.
In the great summer vacation of post HSC examination, unexpectedly I was forced into a large team of pilgrimage that visited all the Holly places in North India including Swarna Mandir. I was the young guardian of an old couple, my elder sisters parents in law. I called them Bapa and Maa. We stayed back at Jammu while team mates went to Srinagar to preserve our fitness for the other important visit to the mountain shrine of Badrinath. It was early June and India was Marching forward in 1983 World Cup of Cricket under Kapil Dev, radio was the means to listen the commentary.
We reached in early morning at Haridwar. Going in a team organised by experienced tour professionals had the advantage of traveling in the night and sight seeing in the day. We visited different temples and Mutts in Haridwar. Some went to Mansadevi temple. We gathered at Harikipedi at right time to see the spectacular Gangaarati and retired early with the instruction of getting ready, early in the morning to move towards Badrinath.
I was young and energetic but what about these old people who ran almost every day with accommodation in the train compartment that remained stationary at railway stations providing us very secure lodging and reasonably good food. There zest for divine duty kept them active and confident. And they got ready before time.
In the three tire non AC compartment our lodging cum touring apparatus, we three occupied in one side, in our front were a couple and their kid and on the side two seats were a senior citizen couple. In those days officers had no problem in travelling ordinary for the sake of well organized comprehensive tour. I hope now also some people travel like that. We moved as a family with mutual help. I felt very secured with them and they ordered me for small works like fetching water as if I am their child.
Yes we took our seats in a group in the luxury bus in time. The mission was to go directly to Badrinath crossing Joshimutt before the one way traffic restricts the forward journey. For that we kept Rishikesh to see in our return journey.
Probably they hired the best buses with best drivers that made this journey thrilling. A boy from coastal planes was traveling in mountain road typically constructed on the side of river Alakananda. Anytime you see, a wall of tall mountain on one side and the river flowing on the other side at a dangerously low level. The road so curved and narrow added to the adventure. I imagine a boy with a spon half pant a half shirt moving to the land of ice. Forgotten, what protection we had with us against the chilling temperature. Probably the bus had a provision of warming.
In the eighties of last century smoking in public was common. I objected this in the bus with loud and clear voice being encouraged by others in our group. My manner was not very good but purpose was correct and it brought result. There was a doctor in the bus who squeezed my cheek with affection for that.
Bapa has done a serious error. He did not pick up his bag that carried his grains of opium he was addicted to. His sticks for brushing the teeth also was in that bag. Anywhere the bus stopped he ordered me to go and collect twigs from trees for making tooth stick. This was not possible and others chided me. "Rabi, go and collect tooth stick".
Wherever a new stream fell down into the Alakananda they called it a Prayag and there were several such. I remember two; Rudraprayag and Debaprayag. There was arrangement of snacks in the bus.
We had our lunch plan after crossing that one-way traffic in time at Joshimutt, which we did successfully thanking the excellent driver who never became unsafe in his race against time. Sometimes the road was flooded with water from the melting ice from the mountain side.
I had never had such thrilling experience. In a circus or magic show we experience momentary thrills but in a travel on mountains the thrill never ends and as one scales heights one gets more and more adventurous sceneries. If I keep all my other good enjoyments from travels and other activities in one hand and this single journey in the other hand, I feel it would be heavier and more alluring. My age made my enjoyment very special. (Of course my joy in my trekking with friends Santos and Rohit was equally enjoyable at the age of approaching fifty.) Mountain is magnet. Mountain attracted the soul searching people and mountains too attracted ordinary people like us.
The lunch at Joshimutt is still fresh in my memory. A road side eatery provided the best quality thin rice of raw variety (not par boiled). The dal with the not de-husked lentils had very special taste and so was the curry. In general a chance meal in a small hotel in our areas is always painful but there it was so nice. Then too I clearly had an opinion for everything.
We reached at Badrinath at the beautiful Sunset very different. Immediately they guided us to a small room allotted to we three. We hired nine blankets at the rate of three rupees each.
Suddenly bapa suffered from cold, sneezes and shivering. I had no clue to what to do. I was not a doctor then to guess morphine withdrawal. Gradually Maa and I went on covering him with all the blankets, saving one for each of us. We did not sleep the entire night. Acclimatized to the coldest night of my life, in the morning I felt better. With a half pant and shirt I roamed outside in the morning to find out a place to attend the calls of nature. The time was like that I hope the situation now is different with good lodging facility.
Nature has provided warm water in such a place. I always exclaimed, if the hot water flowing here made this place so important that from Vyasadev to Shankaracharya, we can't say how many holy souls worked here or Lord Vishnu blessed this warm water for the devotees.
We went for taking bath.
Being in a hurry I wrongly entered to the women's bathing site. It became more embarrassing for a 16 year old adolescent than to the ladies who of course took me as a child. Soon I went to the right place and remained inside the cistern of water so soothingly warm. All the suffering of the previous night vanished, I was once again rejuvenated with energy. Bapa too became fine after bathing there.
It was time to go for the Darshan. The temple did not look as big as the temple of Lord Jagannath at Puri but the discipline was so nice unlike the chaos we see here. The method of worship so simple. Your offering is thrown in to the collection on a large dish and something is collected from that dish and given to you. You vanish to zero and come back with the blessings and during that process you finish the Darshan the ultimate purpose of going that far. I have never experienced such a simple and equal to all worship in any other place. No one tried to cheat in the name of devotion. The fried dry rice and other dry Prasadam was good to store until you reach back in your home anywhere in India.
I had no interest to ask anyone if it was a truth that the AKHANDADEEP keeps burning for six months when the shrine remained closed. My concern was how to go back safe with the Bapa's health.
When we returned we walked on the LACHHMANJHULA at Rishikesh. After visiting Badrinath one would be less interested to do a quick visit in Rishikesh. I remember the seven storied building temple and nothing else is there in my memory.
More than the shrines and their Lords, the unique journey was a much more fulfilling experience that will be carried forward to my journey to the next birth.
I do not know for what reason I was unexpectedly rewarded this pilgrimage at such a young age. However I am sure this should have been an unfinished but deserving wish in my previous birth.
Once again I want to repeat, from beaches, to woods in the plane land to the magnificent cities to the rivers to any other wonderful place; nothing is stronger than the call of the mountains. Sometimes I feel, that is our original home and the human race migrated to other areas for livelihood.
Age is catching up, responsibilities not permitting, no scope of taking leave and the knees are getting compromised but for sure I hear the call of the mountains; the attraction of the hilly roads invariably on the trail of a river flowing, the woods of Oaks, Pines, Rhodendon, and Goldmohurs of different colors and the peaks covered with white clothes reflecting the sunshine as burning diamonds and all of them calling in silence and calling aloud.
Dear Nita I have heard the place has become a busy market place as good as any other pilgrimage site but as I know, you must have connected your soul to the soul of the Himalayans at Badrinath and nearby Vyasa's cave.
Wish you do a comparative study of progress and regress from 1984 as depicted by me.
And of course Saban I hear the call of your place and we shall be there at the earliest opportunity.
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