Travelling by Indian Railways, I reiterate, never fails to fascinate and excite me. There were times when I had to take care of the food needs for the long hours of travel- approaching the preparations with careful planning specially when my kids with their extra energy and the usual(or unusual?) whims were my fellow travellers. All that toil and running around apart, The prospect of travel used to energise me with vigour! Every trip is something new and unique and every move brings a new perspective about this great land and think of the types of people one can see!
The seasoned travellers by IR will give me a disgusting look. I know what with the chaos and noise of the stations, travellers who make a nuisance of themselves with their heavy luggage, those crook of passengers who try to unseat you from your rightful reserved space..(You can add the scare of theft, bombing etc, etc.) But, here I am still going strong with my romance with the IR-The offending noises, dirty fellow passengers, smelly toilets and stiff joints not withstanding!
Such a hardcore fan of the IR as myself even had to admit to the stress and discomfort of train travel in the second phase of my tour.That was when we had to travel through Bihar and UP and that part of the travel would only lead us to fulfill our religious obligations to our ancestors. I had done my bit of travel in these regions earlier. Still, I could understand the sense of shock and surprise that hits any one from the south of Vindhyas. Rules don't count here. (Reservations - 'voh kyah cheez hai?') Stronger and pushy persons survive the travails of train journey in these parts, being able to talk in the local lingo or the standard version of the national language is an added advantage. All said and done, we had our moments of tension when we did not have reservations together and had to to do some juggling.
Gaya is a typical sleepy town of Bihar showcasing the backwardness and poverty that is Bihar except when it comes alive with the visiting pilgrims. But in what way! - the 'pujaris', 'pandits, persons claiming to be guides besides the usual quota of beggars would almost pounce on you to extract money from you. If you are not alert you would be dancing to their tunes.( Even otherwise you would have to perform a wriggling act to escape them!) These and the sight of garbage-strewn narrow roads drag our attention from the religious rituals and questions gnaw at your heart for which you have no answer.
The next stretch saw us traversing the length and breath of the state of U.P by road. A small village at the beginning of the Kumaun mountains but for the 'Alvars' (Bhakti saints who sang hymns in praise of Vishnu in Tamizh) would not have been in the travel list is 'Nemisaranyam'. Nemi is the 'chakra' in the hand of Vishnu which came down to this peaceful woods. That is to indicate an ideal place to meditate, do 'thapas'. It is genuinely a serene place encouraging you to probe inward. Despite the usual running in and out of temples and boarding places, I was feeling the pull of the place, the divine beauty of the surrounding. When my fellow travellers were trying to add to their 'Punya' by visiting the temples and worshiping as per their understanding, I could not get that kind of 'Bhakti'. The consciousness or the awareness within me ( Give whatever name you want) wanted to link with the bhakti spirit centuries back and soak in their emotion of selfless love for God and the utmost faith and absolute surrender, to at least glimpse that bliss. Unfortunately, the mundane practicalities of the present pulled me down and I have to 'fall in line'(!?). I had not been able to share such feelings with any one for the simple reason that these were thoughts swirling deep in my mind and I was not able to verbalise them. This is one place where we have to come without the time constrictions and spend the time in solitude. ( Can I make such a trip?). Another wonderful experience which I like to reminisce about was the cold dip we had in the river Gomati/Gomukhi early morning with the Sun reaching his tender rays towards the water.
In and out, in and out of temples was what we were doing in Ayodhya and to a certain extent it remained a mechanical exercise without any sincere emotion of Bhakti(It is about my feelings and I wouldn't know of others.) The security at the 'Ramajanma bhoomi sthal' made many of us uneasy wondering about the demolition and the communal divide. A place active with daily worship and pulsating with the love and devotion of the people for their 'Ram Lalla' is now looking sinister and evokes only disturbed thoughts! The lanes leading to the temples in this place were providing a glimpse into the actual demolition and the police firing by continuous playing of CD. Intolerance and violence in the land of Rama?
While the waters of Gomati was pristine, the Sarayu in Ayodhya was heavy with its load as it was the plains. Whatever be the river, bathing in it has special significance to all of us born in this land. If you look around you can see many kinds of people- some scared, some awestruck by the volume of water ( may be, like us who are from water- thirsty Chennai!), some sobered down by the religious significance. No doubt that all would enjoy the dip but none would take it as a pleasure or fun. Deep down in our heart is this firmly rooted belief- We are shaped by the soil in which we are born and the water that sustains our life. We consider the rivers of this land holy. so, what is new, friend? Nothing is, as we continue to be our hypocritical selves and pollute the great rivers which untiringly sustain us. Thus wherever we had our 'theertha Snan', I experienced a mixed emotion with the reverence due to the river and frustration and anger towards my own people.
Be it a holy dip in the great rivers of our land, a visit to a famous temple to offer prayers to the reigning deity of the place, performing the religious rites- the attitude and the approach of my fellow travellers were so varied and provided interesting insight into the human psyche. There were those who looked up to every single religious tradition with utmost reverence even when they did not understand the significance or need of many of them. They listened to any one who claimed to have knowledge in these matters. Then there were those ever curious 'doubting Thomas' type raising pertinent as well as irrelevant and meaningless questions. Yet another type remained observers and did not have a strong urge to do the religious duties. Besides these types, came the aggressive and ever pushing to reach anywhere first. Among them all, I could not but admire the couple from Kanchipuram for their warm friendly nature, sincere efforts to maintain the pious mood and polite kind words to every one. There was this person from Thiruchi who showed a depth of knowledge about the nature of soils along the rivers. He kept himself fit and agile during his mid life years by following some natural therapy.
I am certainly not concluding this without sharing my impressions about that oldest city, with a mystic aura around it. Why, it is none other than Varanasi/Kashi/Benares. Day after day, for many years the stories my 'Patti' used to narrate about her journey to this place had fascinated me. A great story teller that she was, it felt like watching the entire episode like a film.( Not that I lacked imagination to vividly picturise the whole thing!) Excitement mounted to a peak and the slight confusion about accommodation added to the excitement. After a little drama, we checked in late in the night. Anyhow, it was to be a hectic day ( the next day) with Gangasnan and performing the rites for our ancestors.
The first thing that caught my attention was the vibrant mood with such life even as we were waiting to get into our boarding during night. Once again, it was with a mixed feeling of elation and sadness that I faced the great river that had been the guiding force behind many a ruler, poet, philosopher and saint. I was overwhelmed thinking that generations of pilgrims, travellers, seekers of truth had stood on the very shores drawing inspiration from the 'grand old dame' (or should I say the young and ever beautiful lady?) Though I normally am not moved much by the rites, that day moving by boat on the waters of Ganga, performing the last rites for my ancestors, my dear ones who were dead brought a sense of comfort as though they all were near me accepting my offerings and passing on some new energy to me. However,the dip in Manikarnika Ghat only upset me rather than evoking reverence for 'Ganga Maiya' with the muddy, dirty water there. Ganga Maiya is supposed to wash away our sins alright, but not to be dumped with the city waste.
Thanks to the communal intolerance and bombings in places of worship, I could not have a peaceful Darshan of Lord Vishwanath. How much I looked forward to that rare moment of harmony with all around me! But what I got was the mechanical frisking by the security personnel, push and nudge by the crowd and again the insistent voice of the security guys to hurry up.
I definitely would like to cherish our early morning trip to Ganga. It was drizzling and the water wa dark still and appeared to stretch endlessly. ( One should not forget the chill as well.) She, I mean Ganga Maiya, seemed to be relaxing but with a hint of welcome and approachable aura around her like a mother has a welcoming smile for her child when the child rushes to her, even in her sleep. The cold water slowly reaching upto our neck felt like the cool soothing touch of the mother. It was a bliss with the silence around and only the murmur of the water like the loving words of the mother, a rare moment of harmony with the creation watching the slowly lightening Eastern sky and listening to those one or two sincere devotees singing Her praise and bathing.
I do not want to give the list of places visited and the time. It is the feeling that elated me and lifted me out of my earthly bonds that I want to describe here. It is so profound that I am afraid defining it in words will not be effective. Yet, I wanted to annonce it from rooftop, laughing out loud and annonce to all and sundry, "Hey, my fellow beings, come with an open mind to this city soaked in history and religion, come to this mad quirky city to be drawn into its madness, come to this city of Shiva, the Destroyer to feel that death is nothing but another beginning, liberation from the physical restraints, come as a seeker of the Truth to learn the wisdom of the saints." I am not exagerating my impressions here. Even after a month or two, when I sit back to recollect the moments spent there for only two days, wave after wave of a strong emotion grips me and God! how I want to go there and experience the madness, chaos and yet following a pattern and rhythm!
There were so many more observations that I originally thought of mentioning here. But, the flow of thought took me to describing Varanasi after which I want to go into silence to once again relive the time spent there.
Such a hardcore fan of the IR as myself even had to admit to the stress and discomfort of train travel in the second phase of my tour.That was when we had to travel through Bihar and UP and that part of the travel would only lead us to fulfill our religious obligations to our ancestors. I had done my bit of travel in these regions earlier. Still, I could understand the sense of shock and surprise that hits any one from the south of Vindhyas. Rules don't count here. (Reservations - 'voh kyah cheez hai?') Stronger and pushy persons survive the travails of train journey in these parts, being able to talk in the local lingo or the standard version of the national language is an added advantage. All said and done, we had our moments of tension when we did not have reservations together and had to to do some juggling.
Gaya is a typical sleepy town of Bihar showcasing the backwardness and poverty that is Bihar except when it comes alive with the visiting pilgrims. But in what way! - the 'pujaris', 'pandits, persons claiming to be guides besides the usual quota of beggars would almost pounce on you to extract money from you. If you are not alert you would be dancing to their tunes.( Even otherwise you would have to perform a wriggling act to escape them!) These and the sight of garbage-strewn narrow roads drag our attention from the religious rituals and questions gnaw at your heart for which you have no answer.
The next stretch saw us traversing the length and breath of the state of U.P by road. A small village at the beginning of the Kumaun mountains but for the 'Alvars' (Bhakti saints who sang hymns in praise of Vishnu in Tamizh) would not have been in the travel list is 'Nemisaranyam'. Nemi is the 'chakra' in the hand of Vishnu which came down to this peaceful woods. That is to indicate an ideal place to meditate, do 'thapas'. It is genuinely a serene place encouraging you to probe inward. Despite the usual running in and out of temples and boarding places, I was feeling the pull of the place, the divine beauty of the surrounding. When my fellow travellers were trying to add to their 'Punya' by visiting the temples and worshiping as per their understanding, I could not get that kind of 'Bhakti'. The consciousness or the awareness within me ( Give whatever name you want) wanted to link with the bhakti spirit centuries back and soak in their emotion of selfless love for God and the utmost faith and absolute surrender, to at least glimpse that bliss. Unfortunately, the mundane practicalities of the present pulled me down and I have to 'fall in line'(!?). I had not been able to share such feelings with any one for the simple reason that these were thoughts swirling deep in my mind and I was not able to verbalise them. This is one place where we have to come without the time constrictions and spend the time in solitude. ( Can I make such a trip?). Another wonderful experience which I like to reminisce about was the cold dip we had in the river Gomati/Gomukhi early morning with the Sun reaching his tender rays towards the water.
In and out, in and out of temples was what we were doing in Ayodhya and to a certain extent it remained a mechanical exercise without any sincere emotion of Bhakti(It is about my feelings and I wouldn't know of others.) The security at the 'Ramajanma bhoomi sthal' made many of us uneasy wondering about the demolition and the communal divide. A place active with daily worship and pulsating with the love and devotion of the people for their 'Ram Lalla' is now looking sinister and evokes only disturbed thoughts! The lanes leading to the temples in this place were providing a glimpse into the actual demolition and the police firing by continuous playing of CD. Intolerance and violence in the land of Rama?
While the waters of Gomati was pristine, the Sarayu in Ayodhya was heavy with its load as it was the plains. Whatever be the river, bathing in it has special significance to all of us born in this land. If you look around you can see many kinds of people- some scared, some awestruck by the volume of water ( may be, like us who are from water- thirsty Chennai!), some sobered down by the religious significance. No doubt that all would enjoy the dip but none would take it as a pleasure or fun. Deep down in our heart is this firmly rooted belief- We are shaped by the soil in which we are born and the water that sustains our life. We consider the rivers of this land holy. so, what is new, friend? Nothing is, as we continue to be our hypocritical selves and pollute the great rivers which untiringly sustain us. Thus wherever we had our 'theertha Snan', I experienced a mixed emotion with the reverence due to the river and frustration and anger towards my own people.
Be it a holy dip in the great rivers of our land, a visit to a famous temple to offer prayers to the reigning deity of the place, performing the religious rites- the attitude and the approach of my fellow travellers were so varied and provided interesting insight into the human psyche. There were those who looked up to every single religious tradition with utmost reverence even when they did not understand the significance or need of many of them. They listened to any one who claimed to have knowledge in these matters. Then there were those ever curious 'doubting Thomas' type raising pertinent as well as irrelevant and meaningless questions. Yet another type remained observers and did not have a strong urge to do the religious duties. Besides these types, came the aggressive and ever pushing to reach anywhere first. Among them all, I could not but admire the couple from Kanchipuram for their warm friendly nature, sincere efforts to maintain the pious mood and polite kind words to every one. There was this person from Thiruchi who showed a depth of knowledge about the nature of soils along the rivers. He kept himself fit and agile during his mid life years by following some natural therapy.
I am certainly not concluding this without sharing my impressions about that oldest city, with a mystic aura around it. Why, it is none other than Varanasi/Kashi/Benares. Day after day, for many years the stories my 'Patti' used to narrate about her journey to this place had fascinated me. A great story teller that she was, it felt like watching the entire episode like a film.( Not that I lacked imagination to vividly picturise the whole thing!) Excitement mounted to a peak and the slight confusion about accommodation added to the excitement. After a little drama, we checked in late in the night. Anyhow, it was to be a hectic day ( the next day) with Gangasnan and performing the rites for our ancestors.
The first thing that caught my attention was the vibrant mood with such life even as we were waiting to get into our boarding during night. Once again, it was with a mixed feeling of elation and sadness that I faced the great river that had been the guiding force behind many a ruler, poet, philosopher and saint. I was overwhelmed thinking that generations of pilgrims, travellers, seekers of truth had stood on the very shores drawing inspiration from the 'grand old dame' (or should I say the young and ever beautiful lady?) Though I normally am not moved much by the rites, that day moving by boat on the waters of Ganga, performing the last rites for my ancestors, my dear ones who were dead brought a sense of comfort as though they all were near me accepting my offerings and passing on some new energy to me. However,the dip in Manikarnika Ghat only upset me rather than evoking reverence for 'Ganga Maiya' with the muddy, dirty water there. Ganga Maiya is supposed to wash away our sins alright, but not to be dumped with the city waste.
Thanks to the communal intolerance and bombings in places of worship, I could not have a peaceful Darshan of Lord Vishwanath. How much I looked forward to that rare moment of harmony with all around me! But what I got was the mechanical frisking by the security personnel, push and nudge by the crowd and again the insistent voice of the security guys to hurry up.
I definitely would like to cherish our early morning trip to Ganga. It was drizzling and the water wa dark still and appeared to stretch endlessly. ( One should not forget the chill as well.) She, I mean Ganga Maiya, seemed to be relaxing but with a hint of welcome and approachable aura around her like a mother has a welcoming smile for her child when the child rushes to her, even in her sleep. The cold water slowly reaching upto our neck felt like the cool soothing touch of the mother. It was a bliss with the silence around and only the murmur of the water like the loving words of the mother, a rare moment of harmony with the creation watching the slowly lightening Eastern sky and listening to those one or two sincere devotees singing Her praise and bathing.
I do not want to give the list of places visited and the time. It is the feeling that elated me and lifted me out of my earthly bonds that I want to describe here. It is so profound that I am afraid defining it in words will not be effective. Yet, I wanted to annonce it from rooftop, laughing out loud and annonce to all and sundry, "Hey, my fellow beings, come with an open mind to this city soaked in history and religion, come to this mad quirky city to be drawn into its madness, come to this city of Shiva, the Destroyer to feel that death is nothing but another beginning, liberation from the physical restraints, come as a seeker of the Truth to learn the wisdom of the saints." I am not exagerating my impressions here. Even after a month or two, when I sit back to recollect the moments spent there for only two days, wave after wave of a strong emotion grips me and God! how I want to go there and experience the madness, chaos and yet following a pattern and rhythm!
There were so many more observations that I originally thought of mentioning here. But, the flow of thought took me to describing Varanasi after which I want to go into silence to once again relive the time spent there.
