Only Hindus can do this magic. It was magical moments at the Kumbh Mela: Everybody was busy doing his or her own work at this congregation place of a sea of humanity. There was a fear in my mind about the biggest gathering and its crowd. Nevertheless, it was also a motivation that forces me to this have this spiritual journey to the Kumbh Mela.
Braving the filth and garbage on the lanes and the degenerated buildings in the old Prayagraj, I was afraid of the sea of humanity crushing me down at the main mela site, rather than blessed with a spiritual experience. My eighty-five years old mother felt more energetic after touching the soil of Prayagraj.
After hard bargaining, we got a small makeshift guest room, at the rent of Rs.6000/= per day, at Allapur colony, a ghetto type colony, consisted of Muslims, Dalits and poor people, but all busy in making quick bucks.
We all four reach Gau Ghat and bargain for a boat journey to the mammoth Sangam area. The boatman charged Rs.1500/= per hour. The Sangam, for which Prayagraj is known, is the amalgamation of the Ganga, the Yamuna and the Saraswati, which is believed to be secretive-underground now. The boats are dilapidated but soon we all lost in the beauty of the Kumbh Mela. We forgot about all the troubles.
The cold wind was blowing that cleared the fog and the bright sun appeared. There was a new incarnation of the river Yamuna – it is not the frothing, stinking and slothful cadaver of water, one is adapted used to in Delhi. The Shyamal Yamuna is very aptly named. It is dim, deep and sweet smelling; it's sapphire waters hitting against the boat’s sides. Thousands of migratory birds, gliding inquisitively around our boat, over the holy waters and occasionally dipping into it. This was the difference between the Prayagraj of a Yogi and Delhi of Kejriwal.
The gentle winds tousle their wings and our hair. I widen out on the boat, watching the huge New Yamuna Bridge cruise diagonally the blue sky. The birds ascend like a rainbow cloud and start wheeling and rotating above our boats and heads, in search of eatable titbits.
I wanted this blissful never to end but within an hour we reach the main Sangam spot. The amalgamation of the Ganga and the Yamuna in a double coloured pattern was clearly visible but less clear than the merging of the Alakananda and the Bhagirathi in Dev Prayag, Uttarakhand. However, the waters are not so clean, here it is almost soil brown.
The boatman astutely drove the boat through the jam of boats, reminding of traffic jams of Delhi and leaving them behind to arrive at the sacred spot where we could take our holy bath. We plunge into the blessed water, holding tightly the ropes tied around the boat.
A small strip all along the Yamuna has been prepared and barricaded off and in that strip, which is mainly slow-moving water. Men, women and children, in different levels of undress, are frolicking in the water and taking the exemplary bath or dubki. Old women with hardly covered breasts and bottoms shuffle into it and carefully dip their heads into the water.
It was a unique scene. There was no distinction of gender, class or caste. Even no roving eve was there to look at the scantily dressed young girls.
The ground is wet … dry straw has been positioned on the sand to keep it as dry as useable. Signboards dot the area guiding the pilgrims and giving some holy message. There were very simple changing rooms for women, who crowd in there, removing their wet clothes in front of unfamiliar people, but nobody was concerned about other’s nudity. This is the wonder that is called Hinduism.
After the Yamuna, we stroll down to the bank of the Ganga. The river is flowing freely; thousands of birds of different hues are gliding on its speedily flowing waters, which was surprisingly very clean. The river meets the Yamuna after taking a curvy turn. This is the real Triveni or Sangam.
Just then, the lights were lit. It is a thrilling experience. The setting sun was like a big red plate. The bathers were shining the bathers are shining tired in the orange radiance. The full bright moon shines through holy water, the assembling nightfall and the thousands of floating lamps give the waters the facade of lotus floating on it.
We all had a long-cherished wish to attend the evening aarti on the banks of Sangam, which we observe at the ghats of Varanasi. Here all were rushing for that moment. People were rushing into different directions, like pendulums. All were following each other. All were confident about reaching the right point. This is Bharat and everybody here has confidence in his or her knowledge, which is a beauty. This includes the police on horseback, who helped us on yet another pious chase. We have to remove our sleepers. Poor sweepers were guarding the footwear. The charges were Rs.100/= per pair.
Mesmerized and tired, we choose to go back to our hotel. But walking back is a scary expedition. Three kilometres is a gigantic job when your feet are begging for rest. A poor rikshawalla offers us to take us to our hotel for Rs. 800/=! Everybody is minting money. A true Indian character.
But big thanks to Yogi, big thanks to UP administration, big thanks to UP police and big thanks to priests and all others who help us for this mesmerizing pilgrimage and helped and blessed us to fulfil this blissful journey. My 85 years old mother has no words to express her divine joy. Only she blesses all with tears gliding on her wrinkled cheeks.
No comments:
Post a Comment