… in gay abandon !

11^th June. 2004. Just a week into the vacation. The seven suns had tanned me. All was said and done. Just had a siesta and was nibbling away at my moiety of sandwiches, the bulk being with my brother. Nothing new. My mother’s beneficence always seemed to fall upon on him. Even my laconic revolts resulted in unexpected furore. My voice of concern for my physique seemed nugatory. “You are getting plumper by the day!”. A quick look at my topless torso reaffirmed their concerns. The “wiches” were very soporific. Bed-time. Again.

“It’s getting hotter by the minute”. My trunks soaked and sweat dripping off my forehead. The resultant struggle ensured I was on the floor. Regained my lost senses. Oh! No, not again. Umpteenth power cut of the day. The suave winds were, maybe, too tricky to handle for the electricity department. A phone call to them. And as ever, they were ready with their inscrutable reasons. Some of the choicest curses and abuses to them. Now what? The cool breeze lured me to the terrace. Ah! What a relief from the capacious suffocation. “Bon soir”, wished the sky. But the twilight was besieged by sinister darkness. Ebony clouds had got hold of the debonair Sun. The “asopalav’s” seemed to be dancing with the wind. While the obsequious birds had already surrendered themselves to the realms of nature, with the sun continuing its bootless struggle.

Winds had, by now, crossed every limit of graciousness. They were on a rampage. The aunties were worried about the clothes flying away; it was time for them to tie in the gauntlets in the interiors. Even they, the clothes, were trying to catch up with the gust. The four-legged’s running for cover. The resulting din faded away with the first onslaught of lightning. It was blitzkrieg. The Emperor had arrived. And was He not alone ! One more uproar. The world seemed to be breaking apart under His greatness.

The clouds had won their battle

But the war was yet to begin

The scene was perfectly set

Me being the pauper caught in between

The Sun was woebegone

Grass merrying away in the lawn

The cliffhanger was going to be taut

Or was it going to be just a naught?

The first raindrops touched my face and I remembered something. Why was I wearing the vest? Flung it away. For Him the celebration of exuberance had just begun. And there I was, ready to indulge in the melee. Nature’s diktat got the better side of me. They, the pearl shaped drops, were getting HARSHER. BOLDER. BIGGER. I thought it being for the BETTER!

Ferocious soldiers of the Rain God had engulfed the whole place. Each drop felt distinct. They had completely drenched me, with their mesmerizing pace. I was awed and shocked. Awed by the enormity of natures forces and shocked by the haplessness of us. For still, as far as I could see, not a single soul, except me, was ready to be a witness to the magnificence being displayed. Why such stubbornness, I thought. Many a people, whom I saw, were reluctant to come out in the open and enjoy this closeness exhibited by philanthropic nature. Maybe they thought they were too old to do this. Sheer boorishness! Take it from me; the bliss so received is holier than any of those you might be raving about. Just shed off your inhibitions for once, even your clothes if you want to, for this is the only chance to find out the real “YOU”. Or is it so that you don’t even remember who you really are? Ok, I can tell you that – be human – just follow your instinct. Nothing more. Nothing less.

O! Man, pity on thou

For you can’t be you

For thou is not what you think are you

Thee is what HE made of you

Nature wish’d to kiss thee

SHE wish’d you be with Me !

And the whole of the place was inundated. Streams, full of gusto and mud, ravaged through the streets. Astute children pushing their little boats to wade through chirpy waters, as if cajoling them to make it the farthest. Geriatric grandpa’s and grandma’s coming out of their confinements, finally forsaking their solitariness. Choked silencers and splashing four-wheelers, all seemed in harmony. Except for a hundred- two hundred potholes littered here and there, almost everywhere, everything was picturesque. Oh! So romantic…need I say anything more! Too good to be true. And a rush to the nearest bhajia ki larri with friends got our tastes flowing.

And the night brought with it sleek winds, which were like an icing on the cake. The temerity of the evening had descended. The sky was studded with stars, sparkling and twinkling with luminance. It got reinstated on its own that I too was a part of nature. So make a promise to yourself, from peons to professors, from pupils to principals, that the next time you get a chance to be with nature, then just do it. For nature itself is God. And watch the gamut of emotions you radiate. And here I am, waiting eagerly, once more, to surrender myself to Her … in gay abandon! … Hey, the lights went off again… and now you know what…!!!

Jai Mata Ki

They say that a visit to a religious place can never be planned before hand. So true. I was just whiling away my time, sifting through channels and some morning jog. My Delhiite cousins called me up and I got jitters just by listening to the itinerary. And what more, I was a part of it. To make it more complicated the ticket couldn’t make it to the “confirmed list” and a last minute hassle ensured I could be on my way without sleeping between shoes and cockroaches. My father’s intimacy with the railway officials helped me. Some good fellow passengers guaranteed I wouldn’t feel lonely and would have a good time with them, though their discussions were the most boring I ever had involved myself in. “Delhi Jn.” read the board and it was time to hop off the coach. Hugs and kisses and embraces with my other siblings, can it get more melodramatic than that? Though the emotions were realistic. Three days full of uninhibited shopping, discotheques, malls, and masti. A ride in the “Metro” was worth remembering and deserves a mention. The youngsters were very much confident of themselves, and some off the rack jobs, which could fill their pockets, were a rage there, unlike here. Call center jobs were the most sought after, even my cousins were in the BPO industry, but they presented a grim picture. Though the coveted accent is of the utmost priority, it makes you dumb, sitting and answering calls doesn’t use up your grey cells. Its blunting the youth with all night shifts and snoring day times. And you are still raving about that friend of yours whose working in a call center! Move on.

Then came the day of our departure for the mountains, and if you are still guessing, we were going for darshan of Vaishno Devi. Eight people, excluding the chauffeur, packed in a Qualis, not because of their respective proportions but because of the bulk of the baggage. Four young guys, including me of course, crammed at the end. The voyage was the most lovely I had ever had, the cramps notwithstanding, antakshari with half baked songs, leg pulling, not in literal sense, cold drinks splashed over at each others faces and that too at over hundred miles per hour! You had to be there to feel that. “We had a blast”. Though some pangs of guilt did visit me, as it didn’t seem as if we were going on a religious trip. Delhi-Haryana-Punjab-Jammu was the order. The dhabas in sadda Punjab were the most impressive, very clean and impeccably neat. The check posts, as we entered Jammu, were at every other kilometer. The weather wasn’t shivering but still quite chilly. And slowly we were in innards of the Himalayan ranges. The curvaceous roads were no less than a conundrum, and their treacherousness was very well heard of. With steep falls on the both the sides of the narrow roads, we were left gasping for more. The scenic beauty is beyond words. The turns made us jostle for little more space and it was all the more pleasurable with cousins.

Katara. That’s the place everyone stops at and takes rest, before starting the journey upwards. So did we. An hour long quest for the perfect hotel was very irritating, as we were very much willing to have some sleep. The eclectic view from the room was very much inspiring. But the ambitious buzurgs of the family thought otherwise, and with just two hours of sleep and at three in the afternoon we were at the feet of the great rise. Didn’t seem very tough. And we embarked on the holy yatra. We had to forfeit our mobiles and other leather items, as they are not allowed there. Literally every nook and corner had a shop, whether be it a cassette shop featuring songs of bhakti by Late Gulshan Kumar, or various items used in puja, and others offering you food, cold drinks, pictures of Devi, and what not. The faces of the people coming down were very pale and unimpressive. They were jaded and worn out. Their legs shivering with pain. I thought, “they couldn’t even do this much!” Numerous small rests dotted our cruise. Geriatrics were using the services of “pitthu’s”. Actually they are porters who take you to the top and bring you down, on a chair-like bed, or maybe a bed-like chair, and charge you for that. Our whole group of eight got divided into three small groups on its own, each one taking its own time and course. One of my cousins decided it must be done bare footedly. What a courageous guy! Pilgrims chanted throughout the travel. The meaning was not to be interpreted, as it wasn’t meant for those who use logic even in religious matters, not that religion is illogical…maybe the argument is endless, and atheists may even revel in it, nevertheless here it is…though it doesn’t make much sense…

Aage waale
Jai mata ki!
Piche waale
Jai mata ki!
Upar waale
Jai mata ki!
Niche waale
Jai mata ki!
Zor se bolo
Jai mata ki!
Zor se bolo
Jai mata ki!
Jai mata ki
Jai mata ki!

Roughly three hours after the start, we reached Ardhkumari. And the clouds were already at our feet. That’s the place where the Garbhjoon cave is, along with a temple. People were vying to get into the queue for the cave. The rush was maddening. But unfortunately we decided not to enter the cave, as it would have taken another seven-eight hours just to get to the entrance, though we did visit the temple. Some light snacks got us energized. Now, after Ardhkumari, the path was steeper and cleaner, as the shops were less. I hadn’t dared to climb the stairs, as the alternative route was long but not very tiring. It was time to do the adventurous. The stairs were taxing, but also took less time. The view was getting broader and more fabulous as we scaled newer heights. The camera was used five…ten…fifteen times, maybe I lost the count. The small place Katara, looked exceptionally beautiful in the night, with only the lights gleaming in the dark, as if sparkling diamonds were splattered on a black satin cloth. We were getting more exhausted with each step. The final destination was so near, yet so far. As we got closer, should I say higher, around 0.75 kilometers from the top, that’s what the sign read, the clouds encircled us, and wow! What an experience to reckon, as we couldn’t even see ten feet ahead, and we were walking in the clouds, with the clouds! And then rain, torrential rain, poured on us. It was icy. Still we marched ahead with the final goal very clear in our minds.

Half past one in the morning, and we reached the mandir. A bath there and new clothes had to be worn before darshan. But the water froze us. Shivering with cold, after getting ready, we got for what we had come. Vaishno Devi bestowed upon us heavenly blessings. And we all were enlightened. Some rest followed it. But something indeed peculiar was on its way. After a very short stint of three hours with sleep, I found to my horror that my shoes were not there! A frantic search didn’t yield anything. So there I was joining my elder cousin in the barefoot league. Maybe it was Devi’s wish I undertake the journey that way. The descend was very charming, as it was done in the morning, with beauteous, lush green mountains everywhere. And an entertaining, yet warm company of snails, crossing our paths here and there. Now it was time to undertake it through the steps. And they are no less than two thousand, yeah you read it right. From bottom to top, its twelve kilometers, and that’s just half the side. We wished to go to even Bhaironvji, but due to some grave mistakes by our elders, like not taking adequate rests in between, had crippled us, and the journey beyond, which is around three kilometers upwards from Vaishno Devi’s mandir, wasn’t imaginable. It’s said that without darshan of Bhaironvji, no yatra is complete. But there we were. Still, no regrets, we would do it next time.

And finally we reached the bottom, I remembered the faces of people I had encountered while on the way up, I was so wrong in judging them. Barefoot cousin’s legs were all swollen up, mine were on the verge of being so. The journey probably had made us older by some years, but spiritually, we were invigorated. True to the spirit of Mata, bolo Jai Mata Ki! JAI MATA KI!