All my bags were packed, and finally I was ready to roll. Talking about a Sunday in Jan 2010; heading for Maha Kumbh Mela 2010 in Haridwar, Uttaranchal in the Himalayan foothills of Northern India. This would be my first travel in a concept series stretching in to next several years, broadly titled "festival and religious tourism" to explore the soul of India. I was a mixed bag of excitement, apprehension, caution, adventurism, spirituality- all rolled in to one. I thought I planned well and was in good shape, till I almost missed the train as I did not read the departure time printed on the ticket and presumed a time which was few hours behind the actual! I was 90 minutes away from the station and 150 mins away from my home (where my luggage was) when the devastating revealation dawned in. A mad scramble by my family members and well-wishers, one group carrying my luggage and another carrying me in a car, converging from different directions in the rail compartment few minutes before departure, saved a huge public relations disaster for me. So much for my fine planning!
Like a true timorous traveler, I began with a packing list that soon expanded to look like Barfi's list of magic in the film Gupi Gayen Bagha Bayen by Satyajit Ray! The list contained essentials like woolens, camera, dry food, reading materials, chargers, flashlight, medicine, swiss knife, ATM card; modern-day lifestyle disorders like hand-sanitizer and portable water filtration bottle; sundry ones like reading material and extra bag; unneccesary ones like extra clothing. Tickets and hotel bookings were done well in advance, and confirmation/PNR numbers noted down separately in purse, as you would expect if you knew me.
I had an interesting array of co-passengers on most legs of my journey. I always believed that experiencing the soul of India starts with rail travel. My conviction got reinforced all the way during this trip, even from within the sanitized confines of air-conditioned coaches. For the onward journey, my co-passengers included a young Punjabi gentleman who kept unusually glued in to his I-pod throughout and was one of my quietest co-passengers ever. There was also a young mother with her 2-year old child who had an incredible "yeah kya hai" and "papa/nana/nani... kahan hai" syndrome. The mother and the accompanying maid tirelessly and affectionately answered the unending queries relating to mundane objects such as seats, bags and window frames; twice for each question as every answer they gave was followed by a questioning "huh?" by the child. The inquisitiveness of the 2-year old sounded nice initially, till the question-answer session started circling in my head like a swarm of bees. Only comic distraction was provided by an elderly couple occupying the coupe. The man, dressed elegantly in a dark blazer and polished shoes, started burping loudly and confidently, completely out of context (not after any meals or whatever). This continued till late in the night, when I overheard the dutiful wife advising the gentleman to drink some water!! The book titled "Amrita Kumbher Sondhane" by Kalkut written a few decades back about his experience of visiting Kumbh Mela served as the perfect apetizer for the coming few days of experience ahead. During my return journey again, I shared the coupe with some wonderful co-passengers, including a young North Indian couple with a bright 2-year old kid and an elderly doctor from Bihar traveling with his wife, daugther and a charming 3-year old grandson. As soon as i boarded the coach, the 3-year kid asked "tumhara naam kya hai?" i said- tomato. He burst in to the cutest giggle which stayed between us all through the journey. Doctor saab was the most mild-mannered, cordial, jovial and witty person that I met in a long time. We talked about the improving healthcare situation in Bihar and the constraints under which government doctors have to function. When the train was getting frustratingly standstill for hours not too far from his destination, he started cracking jokes such as "rail should only schedule departure timing, arrival should be printed as per railway's convenience and passengers own risk" and "aise chalega to ojha-log aake puja path karne lagenge". When sub-standard food was served, he narrated a joke- "a customer called for the manager to report about an insect that was found in his food. The waiter said manager has gone out to have his lunch (in a more hygienic place)". His demeanour eased the frustration and made the tiring journey more tolerable.
The core part of my travel to Haridwar was a mixed experience. As a first-time traveler to the place, it was love at first sight. It has all the vibes of a holy Hindu pilgrimage town. Ganga Ji (reverentially addressing the holy river as per local custom), emerging from the Himalayan mountain range in to the plains here with fast-flowing, emerald-green water is the center of existence of this town. Geographically, Haridwar (Altitude:292.7 meters; Latitude :29.58 degree north; Longitude: 78.13 degree east) lies at the foot of the Shivalik range of the Himalayan mountain range. Legend goes that when lord Shiva sent Ganga to quench the thirst of the people, she extricated herself from His matted locks and descended to the plains at Haridwar. It is one of the seven holiest places according to Hindu mythology. Ganga river, about 2,510 km (1,560 mi) long, rises in the Gangotri Glacier, situated among three Himalayan mountains all more than 6,706 m (22,000 ft) high. After descending 2,827 m (9,276 ft), or an average of about 11 m per km (60 ft per mi), Ganga flows to the plains at Haridwar, 253 km (157 mi) from its source and 312 m (1,024 ft) above sea level. From Haridwar it continues south and then south-east in its journey towards the sea at Bay of Bengal.
The traditional Hindu society seemed to come alive in the place. Faith, following, simplicity, sharing and tradition ("parampara") seemed to be some of the key values associated with Haridwar. Even the businesses that thrived on the tourism seemed to conduct their business with a certain amount of service and devotional mentality. The florist making the leaf floats for the ritual offerings seemed as if he was readying the offerings for himself. I saw food stalls distributing food free to poor at certain times of the day. The shops in the Bazar seem to be quoting fair price with maximum 10-20% margin for bargain. I did not see any coersion for donations or offerings. There seemed to be an intrinsic faith in human goodness that threaded the interactions between people. Hindu religion expects pilgrims to donate the maximum as per their ability- a traditional societal mechanism to re-distribute wealth. Here everyone seemed happy to contribute- to the Trust that undertakes the upkeep of the Har Ki Pauri bathing ghat and the temples therein and to the poor.
The aarti that happens at Har Ki Pauri and is a major tourist attraction is very nice, but I expected it to be a bit more ritualistic. It turned out to be somewhat choreographic, with a recorded background song playing and quite short. I had somehow imagined that it had a bit more flourish. But is a wonderful sight seeing the floral offerings and camphor lamps floating on the river after the aarti.
Food is certainly a highlight of my trip. Forceful vegetarianism has never been more pleasurable. I enjoyed every meal that I had, whether it is at Vaishnav Bhojonalay or Chotiwalas. Mohan Ji Puri Wale at Har Ki Pauri stood out as "first among equals" and was a standard stopover thrice a day- either for hot kachori plate (Rs. 28/-) or a desi ghee ka halwa (Rs. 15- for a 120 gram plate) or for sweets such as Chandrakala (Rs. 10 per piece).
I also brought back "pedas" from Asli Mathura Ji Ki Dukaan in the bazaar, and they were simply awesome! Ten hot jelebis for a princely price of Rs. 10 (250 gms; this is minimum that you can buy!) from Raju Bhai Jalebi Wale was simply heavenly. Tea at stalls is always with plenty of milk, and prepared on order. When I asked a tea stall owner whether he had tea ready, he asked back in return- "are you from Kolkata"?
Accomodations on Upper Road (I stayed on one) and also on the bazaar lane till up to Vishnu Ghat seemed perfect. It is a short and interesting walk up to the Har Ki Pauri. the few ones with river view are more expensive. The paddle rickshaws are plenty, convenient and cheap. Haridwar being a small town, this mode of transport seemed just perfect. On my way in, one stretch of the road was closed and my rickshaw-walla unhesitatingly picked up my luggage on his shoulder, parked his vehicle and walked me up to the hotel. I was touched and gave him some more money which he did not ask or expect but accepted smilingly. This paradigm shift from negotiation to trust formed the core of my experiential learning in Haridwar.
I met a few interesting people at the Ghat- "hamsafars" in quest of divinity or experience. There was this Greek boy traveling alone whom I met in a tea stall; a French documentary filmmaker staying in Rishikesh for a month and the travel coordinator of a Bengali family- completely dissatisfied with the lack of crowd around the holy bath day- whom I met, predictably, at Mohan Ji Pooriwale's shop! The only thing I missed is the crowd of saints- none of the "akharas" were in place by the second bathing day on which I went. the crowd, although large, was nothing compared to a Kumbh Mela crowd I am told. It was just pure coincidence that I met with one Maharaj who turned out to be a wonderful person to talk to.
His name is "Sri Sri 1008 Sri Shanta Ashram Dandi Swami Ji Maharaj". He was very well read, well traveled and well versed with modern socio-political developments in the country and we discussed about various issues over a very frugal meal. He blessed me at the time of his departure and very kindly invited me back next month at Haridwar when his camp would be set up and also to Prayag where is is based for a fair part of the year. Meeting with him and talking to him was one of the highlights of my trip.
Photography was a challenge- managed to get some from official and semi-official locations and timings :-) It is allowed in the evenings but not during the day. I completely agree with the principle. However, there were a horde of people with media passes and they were allowed to shoot- that seemed double standard. To see the faith, devotion and submission of the thousands devotees was an touching experience for me. This is what I traveled to see- what attracts millions of people to the river and to the ritual. I returned with my question but with a yearning to go back again. And probably again. To be part of (did I say part of?) the "biggest act of faith in the universe".
The rest of the journey was otherwise uneventful, except for constant movement of short-distance passengers which you should expect in a train that has multiple stops through states like Uttar Pradesh and Bihar. The only other interesting episode happened when the train reached Mughal Sarai the next morning. The train stops here for about half an hour. A few minutes before arrival, I was intrigued to see our coach attendant moving around wearing only a gamcha (Indian hand-woven towel). As soon as the train stopped, he quickly hopped out of the train from the non-platform side of the train, pulled out a hose that is used to refill water in the train toilets, and started bathing like an elephant, right under my window. It was certainly a regular affair, as he perfectly timed his shower, and even used a soap and worked out profuse amount of lather. When the train was about to roll again, he was back in the compartment, dressed and fresh as a daisy.
