Nearly a Million Climb to 13,000 Feet to Worship in Siva’s Ice Cave
Hindus in ever-increasing numbers make
the strenuous yearly trek high into the mountains of Kashmir
EACH SPRING WHEN THE
SNOW ABOVE AMARNATH CAVE begins to melt, some of it finds its way into the
chamber beneath. There it refreezes in a huge ice stalagmite as tall as 14
feet. To Hindus, this is an auspicious Swayambhu Sivalingam, a naturally
created murti, as worshipful as the most sacred Deity in any of India’s great
temples. It is a cherished pilgrimage destination.
In 2012 some 700,000 pilgrims worshiped at
the remote cave, almost 13,000 feet above sea level. The majority took the
short route from Baltal, many by helicopter, but nearly half hiked 27
kilometers through the rugged mountains from Nunwan Base Camp outside
Chandanwari.
Documenting this pilgrimage in a devotional
and insightful manner has been a longtime goal of Hinduism Today. Last year we
assigned our Delhi correspondent, Rajiv Malik, and photographer Sudharak Olwe
of Mumbai to personally undertake the long, hard trek from Nunwan. They
interviewed dozens of participants, from Hindu pilgrims and government
officials to Muslim shopkeepers and pony wallahs without whom the pilgrimage
would be impossible. It was a grueling ordeal for the city-based team, who
suffered greatly from the altitude and exposure to the sun, wind and cold. Here
is their report of this extraordinary adventure.
BY RAJIV MALIK, NEW
DELHI
PLANS FOR OUR
PILGRIMAGE TO AMARNATH Cave are in their infancy when a raging controversy
erupts over the dates. Several prominent Hindu organizations want the start
date moved to the beginning of June. They want to allow more days for the
hundreds of thousands of pilgrims to reach the holy cave and worship at the
natural ice Sivalingam which manifests there each year. Citing pilgrims’
safety, the Shri Amarnath Shrine Board and the Jammu and Kashmir State
Government prevail. The high-altitude trek is scheduled to start in late June
after the weather has improved.
Photographer Sudharak Olwe and I
have been instructed to opt for the full pilgrimage experience on foot,
trekking 27 kilometers from Chandanwari. For the return, we will take the short
route, 14 km to Baltal and back to Srinagar. Many pilgrims these days go to
Baltal and take a helicopter to within a short distance of the cave, but we
want to join the throng walking the long route. Then we would stay several days
in Srinagar for interviews, especially with Chari Mubarak Mahant, whose lineage
is long associated with the pilgrimage.
Preparations
Our first hurdle is
obtaining official permission to cover the pilgrimage as journalists—and to
photograph the ice Sivalingam, which is normally prohibited. There is no formal
system for getting accreditation, but finally our friend Tarun Vijay helps
connect us with Sri Navin Choudhary, private secretary of the governor of Jammu
and Kashmir and CEO of the Shri Amarnath Shrine Board, who assures us of all
needed assistance. This executive help, and some divine intervention, will
enable us to fulfill our mission, even getting pictures at the holy cave.
The yatra’s official website, amarnathyatra.org, contains all the information
needed, including how to register, how to prepare, what to wear and carry—even
how to optimize the spiritual benefit of the pilgrimage: keep a pious mind and
chant “Om Namah Shivaya” all the way.
As recommended, I improve my
physical condition by walking a hour daily for more than a month in advance.
After speaking with a dozen people who have made the journey before, I make a
detailed list of the items we need—mostly basic trekking supplies such as
shoes, woolens and hats. These can be obtained dearly at the adventure-tourist
stores, or reasonably at the shops in Delhi’s military cantonment area.
By the first week of May, the yatra
dates are finalized: the 39 days from June 25 to August 2. Now we can book
tickets and proceed with registration through the Jammu and Kashmir Bank, which
is authorized by the Shrine Board to issue permits for a nominal fee of 15
rupees. One can also register online or at designated post offices.
We engage a travel agency, Enjoy
Unlimited in Jammu, to arrange ticketing and local transport from Srinagar to
Pahalgam and then back from Batal to Srinagar. A guide will accompany us on the
yatra. Lodging, meals, pony transport, etc., cannot be arranged in advance but
must be handled on the spot. The guides’ help was invaluable, especially after
both Sudharak and I began to suffer from altitude sickness.
Arrival
in Kashmir
I land in Srinagar
on June 28. The city is tense following the unsolved burning of a famous
ancient Muslim dargah which enshrined a Sufi saint. Worried that violence could
break out the next day, Friday, when the issue is bound to come up at the
collective prayers, I leave early for Pahalgam and cover the 94 km in a few
hours’ time.
Big posters, billboards and banners
welcome pilgrims to the holy Amarnath pilgrimage. These are put up by the
Indian Army and paramilitary forces and by the organizations running the huge
bhandaras or langars, the free feeding establishments located all along the
yatra route. I check into the Hotel Senator Pine and Peak, appreciating the
lush natural surroundings of the area, then savor lunch at the vegetarian
restaurant Dana Pani. Its manager, Narinder Singh, tells me his business
actually suffers during the yatra: most pilgrims opt for the free bhandaras,
and tourists stay away from this popular hill resort to avoid the deluge of
pilgrims.
That afternoon I go to the huge
Nunwan Base Camp run by the Shrine Board just outside town. It is the launch
point for pilgrims taking the long foot route to the cave. Heavily fenced with
barbed wire, the camp resembles a military compound. (Muslim insurgents have
attacked the pilgrimage in the past.) Hundreds of public and private vehicles
are parked outside the gates. Entering, I pass through metal detectors where my
belongings are searched by security forces. The scene is like the major Kumbha
Melas, just on a smaller scale.
The day is bright and sunny, and the
entire camp bustles with activity. Pilgrims stream in from all corners of
India—youth with bags hanging on their backs, and elderly folk balancing
luggage on their heads. Some 7,000 pilgrims a day pass through here. Most spend
the night in tents for a nominal fee; some opt for a hotel in town. Pilgrims
who have not yet registered can do so here and get medical checkups as needed.
The biggest rush is for mobile phone connection cards, but all who buy one are
disappointed: the cards never worked during the pilgrimage, not even in
Pahalgam. And the connection is valid for just seven days, making it a complete
waste of money.
A huge market comprising hundreds of
tent-shops offers everything a pilgrim might need for the tough journey ahead.
Shoes, caps, sticks, raincoats, jackets—you name it and they have it. The
quality is low and the prices high, but there is no dearth of buyers. My
supplies are much better, but I had to run all over Delhi to find them.
Adjacent to the shops are the famous
feeding stations. Manned mostly by volunteers, they offer a wide variety of
delicious food choices, paid for with donations collected year-round in the big
cities. Free feeding places can be found at many pilgrimage sites and at the
Kumbha Melas, but nothing to compare with these spectacular meals. Most of the
organizers are connected to the catering business in their regular life, and
they run the operation expertly. There are bhandaras all along the route to the
cave, even at the highest elevations, providing complimentary meals for the
complete duration of three or four days. Many of my fellow pilgrims are
traveling on a total budget of under Rs. 10,000 (us$182), including
transport to and from their home town. This is possible mainly because of the
free food.
Durga
Das, 55, has come from Maharashtra in a group of 85, taking the pilgrimage for
the eighth time. “I am illiterate and work in a steel mill. I am a very poor
man, but my family and friends help me. Once you are passionate about this
pilgrimage, nothing can stop you from coming.”
I
return to Nunwar Camp in the evening with photographer Sudharak Olwe, who was
delayed by inclement weather in Mumbai. At 8pm the place overflows with
pilgrims who will spend the night in the tent facilities provided by the Shrine
Board and start off in the morning to the cave. I stop at the medical tent and
learn that my blood pressure is alarmingly high—the first sign that this yatra
may not go easily. I am given medicine to reduce the pressure. If I take this
pilgrimage again, I will definitely spend two or three days at Pahalgam to calm
down from the hectic travel and adjust to the altitude.
Late
in the evening we meet the camp director, Amit Sharma, an official of the
Kashmir Administrative Services. He explains the daily priority is to get the
pilgrims into the government-provided vehicles and on their way to Chandanwari
starting from 5 am. From there they proceed on foot or ponyback. They should
arrive at the first night’s camp, Sheshnag, by 6pm at the latest, as the
weather can turn at any time. “Everywhere people are walking on snow. At many
places the tented accommodation itself is on the snow.”
Beginning the Trek: a Steep and Muddy Challenge for Man
and Pony Alike
Yatra Voices: Mahant Deependra Giri, Keeper of the Chari
Mubarak
Mahant
Deependra Giri, popularly known as Chari Mubarak Swami Amarnath Ji, is the
current representative of the guru lineage responsible for the beginning and ending
of the Amarnath Yatra. He was interviewed by Rajiv Malik at his Srinagar
headquarters.
THE
STORY OF AMARNATH IS THAT MOTHER PARVATI HAD REQUESTED Lord Siva to narrate to
Her the Amar Katha, after listening to which a human being is liberated from
the cycle of birth and death. Bhagwan Shankar wanted to locate a secluded place
where no unauthorized person could overhear. He proceeded upwards into the
mountains, leaving His bull Nandi at Pahalgam, and told the Amar Katha to
Parvati at the cave. Later, at Pissu Top there was a demon who used to harass
pilgrims, and legend has it that Rishi Bhringish, with the blessings of Lord
Siva, used these charis (sticks) to destroy that evil force. These sticks since
then are known as Chari Mubarak, the holy mace of Lord Siva. The cave and
pilgrimage route are mentioned in the scripture Bhringish Samhita written by
the rishi.
If
we go by the story, the pilgrimage has a history of over five thousand years.
If we go to Maharaja Hari Singh’s time, 150 years ago, there is official
recorded history of it. It is commonly said that one Buta Malki discovered the
cave in the 19th century. I would say he rediscovered this yatra which already
existed.
This
was always a snow-laden area, and it was never easy to undertake this pilgrimage.
Long ago there would be 25 or 50 and then 100 or 200 pilgrims who would be
undertaking this yatra. I remember in 1986 the figure of pilgrims was 26,000.
For a long time it was marveled that such a large number of people had
undertaken it. This time, the very second day the total number of pilgrims who
had darshan at the holy cave exceeded twenty thousand. Then on June 26 alone
over thirty thousand pilgrims had darshan at the cave.
Kashmir has always been a center of
Saivism. This is a land of divinity and spirituality. Even the Muslim community
here start their spiritual activities early in the morning. For sure, there
were disturbances and the situation was not good for some time. However, things
have improved now. Overall the atmosphere here is charged with spiritual
energy. Anyone who wants to pursue meditation or devote time to study the
scriptures will find the atmosphere here favorable for such activities.
There is a whole chain of our predecessors
from whom I received the Chari Mubarak. They are two sticks encased in silver
cases to preserve them properly. We took the Chari Mubarak to Pahalgam on
Ashadh Purnima, July 3, to mark the formal beginning of the yatra, then
returned here. Late in July we will take the Chari Mubarak along the traditional
route which you took, arriving at the holy cave on August 2, Shravan Purnima,
to mark the end of the yatra. By that time, after 700,000 pilgrims have been to
the cave, the Sivalingam will have melted away. So unfortunately, unlike in the
past, not many people want to accompany the Chari Mubarak to the cave.
It
is a matter of great concern for us that elderly people and small children are
being allowed to undertake this arduous pilgrimage. In the ten days of
pilgrimage so far (in 2012) thirty lives have been lost. Each yatri is supposed
to obtain a medical certificate, but this is not being done properly, or not
done at all. I think the people managing the show must monitor this more
minutely and make people aware of the hazards they face in such high-altitude
areas. They must clearly explain to them the do’s and don’ts for the yatra. We
have to ensure that lives are not lost in such a big way.
If
a person has been given a good religious upbringing by his family and his
ancestors have been devotees of Lord Siva, whether he is in India or anywhere
else in the world, when news comes about the Amarnath Yatra, he naturally wants
to go. Not just the physically fit youth undertake this yatra. I have also seen
aged people carrying their own luggage. When approached by others to carry
their luggage, they refuse help and carry it by themselves. Because of their
high level of dedication, they are able to do this and complete the yatra on
their own. My own personal belief is that anyone filled with faith and devotion
can undertake this yatra. But while they may be mentally ready, they must
prepare on the physical level.
My
message to the Hindus all over the world is that those who have undertaken this
yatra already are lucky and blissful. But those who have not must pray to God
to create the circumstances and means so they can at least once in their life
undertake this pilgrimage to the holy cave and have the darshan of Lord Siva
who manifests Himself in the form of a naturally formed ice Sivalingam.
In
past years, Sharma says, retired officials were called into service to manage
the camp, but this year it was decided to assign active, top-level, experienced
officers.
He
praises the bhandaras. “They are full of enthusiasm, even pulling people in
asking them to have food. There is dancing and chants of Lord Siva. The level
of excitement is worth experiencing. The tradition of bhandaras seems to be as
old as the yatra itself. The food is not only free, it is of the highest
quality.” This is a service not seen elsewhere in India.
Sharma
shares, “My duty is to manage the people here at Nunwan Camp. Performing this
duty in a dedicated manner is a part of my devotion to the Lord. I have
personally gone on this pilgrimage twice. It was an amazing experience.
Standing before the ice Sivalingam, I forgot I was a part of this world. You
simply feel as if you are a part of the divinity which Lord Siva has spread
across the world.”
We leave the camp near midnight, driven
back to Pahalgam by our tired and very unhappy taxi wallah. We pay him
handsomely for detaining him so late. It is our first encounter with a stark
contrast in the Amarnath pilgrimage. For thousands of local Kashmiri Muslims,
this is pure business. It is their livelihood, and they typically do not accept
the rates published for their services by the Shrine Board. This leads to some
heated misunderstandings with the yatris. In contrast, the bhandaras provide
free food to hundreds of thousands of pilgrims.
The Pilgrimage Begins
We
check out of our hotel in the morning and reach Chandanwari at 11 am. As we
approach, we hear shouting among the drivers. There has been a stone-pelting
skirmish between the security forces and the taxi drivers right at the village
entrance. It is unnerving to so directly encounter the poor relations between
the locals and the security forces. After things calm down, we proceed into
town.
Pilgrims
are shouting slogans and mantras, Aum Namah Sivaya, Bam Bam Bole (“Chant Siva
Siva!”) and Jai Baba Barfani (“Hail the Ice Form of Lord Siva”), while loudspeakers
blast out Siva bhajans. It is a high-energy festival atmosphere, and youth are
dancing in the streets. Heading across town, we follow a narrow road lined with
free bhandaras and shops selling food and last-minute travel essentials.
Finally, we reach the gate marking the beginning of the pilgrimage. Soon the
security people let us through in a large group and pilgrims shout “Jai Baba
Barfani!”
The First Day’s Climb Is Strenuous, and Beautiful
Trail
n
addition to heading the Shrine Board, Choudhary is the principal secretary to
the Governor of Jammu and Kashmir State. We began the July 6 interview by
asking for an overview of the Board’s work.
THE
YATRA IN GENERAL IS GOING VERY WELL. TODAY WE EXPECT TO touch 250,000, and it
could reach 700,000 by the end. The Board handles the yatra dates,
registration, sanitation and the Baltal route. The government handles health
and power, and the army handles security. The Pahalgam route maintenance is
done by the Pahalgam Development Authority. We have been continuously working
to improve the route. It is fifty kilometers long. You cannot go with
bulldozers and cut the mountains. It is not legal. You cannot build a fully
cemented path, but still we do improvements. If you noticed, at Pissu Top and
Nagakoti we have made slab staircases. If you had traveled last year at these
places you would have feared slipping and falling 500 feet below. It is a
continuous process, and we spend tens of millions of rupees on improvement
every year in patches. We just cannot go and demolish mountains and create a
twenty-foot wide track.
levels out toward Naga Koti
(left); Poshpatri Bhandara with a selection of dishes (right);
Starting Date Controversy
The
yatra duration is determined by two factors. One is the binding factor that the
yatra will conclude on Raksha Bandhan, which falls on Shravana Purnima (the
full moon in July/August—which was August 2 in 2012). Now there is a demand
that we start it at Jyestha Purnima (the full moon in May/June—June 4 in 2012)
and end it at Raksha Bandhan. We started the yatra this year on June 25. You
yourself have seen the snow on the track and other places which you cannot just
manually clear. You cannot arbitrarily move back the starting date just because
Raksha Bandhan falls earlier in certain years. The yatra period has to be
shorter. It is next to impossible to start before the end of June. This year,
even as late as June 18 we were not confident that we would be able to start on
June 25.
People
have to understand that this ideologically hardened stance of starting on
Jyestha Purnima and ending at Shravan Purnima is impractical. To remove this
controversy we formed a subcommittee and involved prominent saints such as Sri
Sri Ravi Shankar, Swami Avdheshananda and Swami Gyaanand, together with
environmentalists, security experts, the government, the army and civilians.
They met all the stakeholders over a two-month period and came up with a set of
parameters, including the snow removal process and other weather-related
factors. They concluded that the yatra duration may vary from time to time.
Based on those parameters, the Shrine Board will decide the duration of the
yatra each year.
The
yatra has never started successfully before the end of June or first week of
July. There is no scriptural reference that says it must start on Jyestha
Purnima. The Shrine Board is responsible for the safety and security of the
pilgrims. You have been through the yatra and have seen the amount of snow that
is still there at many places. At Mahaguna’s top there is still four to five
feet of snow. Thousands of laborers would be needed to remove it. At 14,000,
feet their level of productivity is just one to two hours a day. If I start the
yatra too early, what face will I show to my countrymen if hundreds or thousands
of people die? This is something which some people do not want to understand.
They are just talking about ideology and are not concerned about the safety and
security of the pilgrims.
Pilgrims’ Health and Safety
Fifty
percent of the pilgrims who have died so far this year were under forty years
of age. One was a boy just 22. They come to the high altitude and start walking
as if they are on the plains. We advise everyone to walk slowly and take oxygen
in the case of breathlessness, but that is not happening. We introduced the
compulsory health certificate, but many just casually procure it.
We
extend all help in a case of an unfortunate death. At the expense of the Shrine
Board, the body is brought down to the nearest base camp. We locate the family
and help them fulfill all legal formalities. If someone needs financial help to
carry the body to their original place, we help them. If somebody wants to
cremate the body here, we offer the assistance of a pujari and a facility for
the cremation. The family of those who have duly registered receive an
insurance payment of Rs. 100,000 (us$1,800).
There
is no dearth of doctors, paramedical staff, oxygen cylinders and medicines. You
can see them all over, at all levels. At every stage the doctors are available.
However, the pilgrims must also take care of themselves. If you are seventy
years of age coming on this yatra, you are yourself trying to kill yourself.
Small children, old people should not come. Now this is something I cannot
enforce legally. The citizens also have to be responsible for their acts. If
you have any ailment or have been sick in the past few days or months, you
should not come. All those who come should follow our do’s and don’ts. We have
given immense publicity to these things through the news channels, newspapers
and our website. If you do not have the personal determination to follow it, we
do not have the legal mechanism to enforce it either.
The
langar wallahs are doing a great job. They are an essential part of the yatra
and are important stakeholders. We are also telling them to improve certain
things. For instance, some of the food they serve is not good to serve at the
yatra, which is taking place at such a high altitude. We have given them a diet
chart prepared by the doctors. We have been constantly telling the langar
wallahs to not serve greasy or heavy food. We have been requesting them to
provide food which is easily digestible at a high altitude. Some feel they have
served what the yatris like and by doing so they have served them truly. But to
my mind that is not a good idea. If I want to eat gajar ka halwa (the famous
Punjabi sweet made with carrots), then I will jolly well eat it in Delhi or
Jallandhar. I do not need gajar ka halwa at the holy cave. My body will feel
better if I am given simple cooked khichadi (made of rice and lentils) which is
good for my body. But this is nowhere available. I have been telling them to
serve khichadi and also put up signs announcing that this is the best diet they
can have at this high altitude. These are things which people have to
understand themselves. These things are not a matter of regulation.
Now
we hire ponies for the climb. The Shrine Board has posted rates, but the pony
wallahs want double. They are unruffled when I show them my copy of the rate
list. For the three-day trip to the cave, the published rate one way for a pony
is $37; for a palanquin with six carriers, $138; and for a luggage carrier,
pithoo, with a 20-kilogram load, $22. By comparison, a helicopter from Baltal
to near the cave costs $53 round trip.
With
nowhere to complain, we pay the exorbitant rates. Such disparity prevails
everywhere during the pilgrimage. If the Shrine Board wishes to enforce its
published rates, it should negotiate mutually satisfactory agreements with the
locals and then staff booths to manage discrepancies. Arguing with the pony
wallahs and luggage carriers detracts from the spirit of the pilgrimage.
Off
we go on foot with our ponies following. The luggage carriers take off ahead at
their own pace. We will not see them again until nightfall at Sheshnag.
Sudharak and I last a mere half an hour on foot, our bodies ill-accustomed to
the oxygen-starved air. So, for the first time in our lives, we mount a pony,
leaving behind the wooden sticks we bought for the journey. Collecting such
abandoned sticks and selling them to the next batch of pilgrims must be a
lucrative business for the locals.
Riding
a poney on a steep mountain path is no joke. I am thankful I’m not overweight.
Around me, heavier pilgrims struggle with even climbing aboard. Still, I find
myself an inept rider barely able to keep my balance. The pony wallah shouts
“Lean forward when going up and lean back when going down,” to make the ride
easier and safer. I find this difficult, and together the pony wallahs rebuke
me for my lack of horsemanship. Sudharak faces the added challenge of taking
photographs while riding, a feat he manages with aplomb, even while going up
the natural steps, or traversing the treacherous areas evident in the photos.
To my astonishment, igoring all hazards, he snaps thousands of pictures
balanced on the pony with both hands on the camera.
Snow Packs & Mountain Lakes Appear
Too
heavily dressed for the warm weather, I am soon sweating, but it is impossible
to take off the clothes, which include thermal underwear. At least we don’t
have rain or snow to contend with; the journey is challenging enough on a sunny
day.
Traveling
through the picturesque valley has been fairly easy, but then comes the steep
and rugged climb to Pissu Top (photo page 22). Even for the seasoned pony,
climbing the muddy rocks is a struggle. This stretch is terrifying. A pony
ahead slips in the mud, mine rears up and and snorts wildly, and the pony
behind does the same. Many of us are chanting “Aum Namah Sivaya” out of sheer
fear.
Sharing
the poneys’ path are people on foot and others being carried in a palaki (a
palanquin, really just a chair strapped to two poles). The pony wallahs and
palaki wallahs shout “Bhole, Bhole!” to make way through the crowd. The path
becomes so dangerous, I hire a man to support me and keep me from falling off
the pony. Immune to fear, Sudharak continually takes photos.
After
three hours, we complete the 3.5-km trek to Pissu Top. The breathtaking
panorama of snow-covered mountaintops overwhelms me. Like an oasis, a huge
bhandara is serving vast quantities of delicious steaming food, all from goods
hauled up the same path we so perilously climbed. Around us are shops set up by
locals, selling water, juice and snacks. We attempt to interview pilgrims. Our
pony wallahs protest, eager to reach Sheshnag before dark. But once they
understand I’m a journalist, they gather around and openly talk to me about
their troubles.
They can’t get good rates for their
services—it is difficult to survive a year on the short yatra, which is their
main source of income. Ghulam Qadri bemoans, “I’m a graduate, but still I do
this because I cannot get a better job. Many of us have to borrow money to buy
a pony, which costs Rs. 50,000 (us$920). If we don’t earn enough, we fall into
a debt trap. The free bhandaras are only for pilgrims. They will only give us
tea, even though we do hard work to help the pilgrims. We should also be
entitled to food. I tell you, we will not let our children do this troublesome
job, but make them study for something better.” Abdul Rashid, 40, who owns a
pony, says many generations of his family have provided horses for the
pilgrimage. He expects to earn about $552 this season. Miraz, 23, says he makes
about $184 each season working as a helper.
The Final Approach to
Amarnath Cave
From
Pissu Top we start toward Jojpal (Zoji Bal), all the while chanting “Bam Bam
Bhole” and “Jai Barfani Baba.” We must personally carry any items we will need
during the day’s trek, since the luggage carriers go on ahead. Snow is more
abundant. By the time we reach Jojpal, snow is everywhere. An old man tells me
he underwent a foot operation some time ago after a major fracture but is
successfully completing this pilgrimage, chanting the name of Lord Siva. Chavi,
a smiling six-year-old, is having a great time walking and riding; she doesn’t
quite understand why the grownups are finding the going so tough. Many pilgrims
speak of some constant power that helps them to keep going and overcome each
challenge, no matter how difficult. These inspiring stories are nourishment for
fellow pilgrims.
Bone
weary when we reach the bhandaras, we are astounded to find a crowd of younger
pilgrims dancing joyfully to the popular bhajan “Jai Jai Bhole Bhandari” played
over a powerful music system. To them the pilgrimage is clearly less arduous!
Having
studied the guidelines set by the Shrine Board I can’t help but notice that
some are simply ignored. Many elderly men and women look unfit for the journey,
and others seem ill-equipped for the weather. Many women are wearing saris,
even if riding ponies. Adventuresome yatris take dangerous shortcuts along the
route.
Soon
we leave Jojpal and begin the day’s final stretch: 3.5 km from Jojpal to
Sheshnag. The sky is crystal clear, granting us a spectacular view of this
stunning passage. We cross glaciers and ice-cold waterfalls. We pass big holes
a pony could slip into. One part is treacherously steep, like the route up to
Pissu Top. Here, ponies cannot make it with a rider, so all must walk. Soon
exhausted, I hire a palaki for the last few hundred yards of this stretch. The
rider-less ponies are taken up a different route.
Arrival at Sheshnag
It
is sunset when we reach Sheshnag. After several hours on horseback, both of us
are dead tired. That I have made it even this far is a miracle for a sedentary
writer like me. High blood pressure, mild asthma and back problems assail my
body. It could only be done with the blessings of Barfani Baba.
In
what turns out to be their standard practice, the pony wallahs want to drop us
a kilometer before our camp, as this is more convenient for them. Our luggage
wallah has not met up with us, nor is our travel agent anywhere to be found. To
top it off, there is a disturbance involving some stone pelting near the Shrine
Board camp; a paramilitary person has hit a pony wallah.
Finally
our guide and the luggage wallahs join us, but the pony wallahs still refuse to
take us to the camp. This stalemate prevails for 90 minutes, with our own pony
wallahs shouting slogans to the paramilitaries. Night is falling, and it starts
to drizzle. All the pilgrims are in the same fix due to the disturbance. The
shouting subsides; our pony wallahs capitulate. They have little choice: as
part of renting the ponies, they had to hand over their identity cards to us—a
powerful bargaining point.
We
had hoped to visit Sheshnag Lake, but it is too late in the day. We seek out
the camp director, Shri Surender Mohan Sharma. He and his team are fuming about
the altercation. His makeshift office was attacked—he shows us the dents in the
aluminum walls. Even so, his team provide us hot tea, snacks and a small room
to sleep in. Ironically, while the bhandaras provide excellent food, other
essentials are lacking. Most significantly, clean toilets are not found
anywhere on the route.
Sudharak
and I spend a sleepless night in the cold, rainy camp. Despite our advance
efforts to improve our physical condition, the altitude is affecting us
greatly, much more so than our younger travel agent guide. There are no phones
here, and no electricity after the generators are shut off for the night.
Completely cut off from the world, we are naturally apprehensive.
Departure for Panchtarni
In
the morning, Sudharak is taken for a medical checkup and given oxygen. Though
neither of us is well, we have no option but to push on. It rained heavily last
night and the ground is slippery with mud. Again we must go through the hassle
of hiring the pony and luggage wallahs for the next leg of our journey. Though
exhausted, at least we have learned how to mount and sit easily on the pony.
Some
pilgrims we so so frightened by yesterday’s riding that they are back on foot
today. When people walk along a narrow trail with a cliff below, they hug the
mountainside. The ponies, for unknown reasons, walk on the valley or cliff side
of the trail, which is most unnerving for the hapless rider.
Now
entirely in snow country, we take eight hours to cover the ten kilometers to
Panchtarni. My face and neck are painfully sunburned. Toward the end of this
stretch we have to climb to Mahaguna Top, which is as difficult as was Pissu
Top. Sudharak is in increasingly bad shape, but there is little we can do for
him—medical facilities are minimal. Our travel agent guide does the best he can
for him. Still, Sudharak never stops taking photographs. The positive vibration
of the throng of thousands of pilgrims in our group keeps our spirits up.
After
Mahaguna Top, the journey is downhill for a while. I am eager to arrive at Poshpatri,
where the bhandara is the largest and most famous of the entire yatra. Even in
Delhi one sees posters and billboards advertising this place, which is managed
by the Shri Shiv Sevak organization in Delhi.
Reaching
Poshpatri, the sight is amazing. Hundreds of people are enjoying the
food—though it is a gross understatement to call it mere food. It is a lavish
party, larger and better organized than nearly any wedding party in Delhi. And
this at a high-altitude place where every ingredient has to be packed in along
the route we have just so arduously traveled. Unbelievably, this bhandara
serves 25,000 people in a single day during the height of the pilgrimage.
Shri
Rajiv Sethi Rajji, manager of Poshpatri Bhandara and head of the Shri Shiv
Sevak organization, tours me through the vast facility. They employ 90 chefs,
assisted by 135 volunteers. Each day, all the food is hauled in 21 km, along
with 25 gas cylinders and 200 liters of kerosene. He said their bhandara,
unlike others, does feed the pony wallahs and other laborers (at a separate
window) because without them “we cannot transport a single bag of salt to this
place.”
We
take our time here, enjoying the rest and the food, which infuriates and
worries our pony wallahs. They know we must reach Panchtarni before dark. The
path is treacherous enough during daylight.
Arriving
in Panchtarni, we have no idea where we will spend the night, as no bookings
could be made in advance. One must simply use whatever space is available.
Fortunately, Rajiv Rajji, back in Poshpatri, gave me some contacts here, and we
are put up in a small tent holding 11 people. Once again we have an almost
sleepless night as the temperature drops to freezing. Sudhakar is having a
tough time coping with the lack of oxygen. I am better off, though my sunburn
is painful and I have a bad case of constipation, possibly from too much rich
food!
Still
exhausted in the morning, we set out on this last leg of our pilgrimage. All
are tired and the mood is sullen, but as we cover the six kilometers to the
base of the mountain where Amarnath Cave is located, the pilgrims’ faces are
lit with high expectations and enthusiasm.
Once
past Sangam, the path becomes more crowded, as we pass returning pilgrims who
are headed out through Baltal. Most who take the long route in, as we are
doing, sensibly opt for the short way out. Those returning from darshan of the
ice Lingam are in great spirits, greeting us warmly and sharing how blissful
they feel.
Almost
through this entire leg of the journey we can see the helicopters plying
between Baltal and Panchtarni. The weather is sunny, and the choppers traveling
through the valley every fifteen minutes seem to fascinate us all.
As
we get closer and closer to the holy cave area, the chanting of mantras and
slogans increases in fervor and frequency. Greetings between the arriving and
departing pilgrims also become more emotionally and devotionally charged.
Five
hours after leaving Panchtarni, we arrive at the huge tent city on the
snow-covered valley floor just below Amarnath Cave. We take a break at one of
the hundreds of shops and have a warm bath (for Rs. 50/bucket) at the river.
Refreshed, we purchase prasadam for our worship and join the huge queue of
pilgrims moving slowly toward the cave, chanting all the way. Waving the press
cards hanging around our necks, we avoid the heavy rush by using the lane meant
for those returning, which is much less crowded right now.
Then
we reach the police checkpoint. They don’t object to our queue jumping, but
they tell us we cannot take photographs of the ice Sivalingam—one of our prime
objectives from the beginning. After a great deal of discussion, name-dropping
on my part and checking with higher-ups, we are allowed to proceed with the
camera, on condition we do not use the flash.
The
path to the cave is made of huge stones cut out of rocks, many over a foot in
height. We have to climb several hundred of these. Everywhere is the heard the
name Lord Siva.
At Last, the Sacred Destination Is Reached!
Only
a few hundred pilgrims at a time are allowed to have darshan of the Lingam. Too
many at a time would warm the cave and cause the Lingam to melt sooner. Each
group is allowed fifteen to thirty minutes. Priests accept the pilgrims’
offerings, placing them at the Sivalingam and giving back prasadam.
Inside
the holy cave I feel as if we have been transported back in time, such is the
grandeur and size of the cave. The very sight of the naturally formed
Sivalingam, nearly six feet tall, mesmerizes us all, and my exhaustion
disappears. I am feeling absolutely fresh, and my mind is spinning with all the
stories and legends I have ever heard about the cave.
By chance, we have entered with a senior
paramilitary officer and his family and are able to get quite close to the
Lingam, which allows for good photography. I am fortunate enough to be part of
the elaborate puja performed for the officer’s family. As I stand with folded
hands and moist eyes, a wave of serenity and peace engulfs me and I am in a
state of meditation for a few minutes, tuned to Lord Siva through the
magnificent and all-pervading vibrations of the ice Lingam. Only because of
this super power and blessings of Lord Siva have I, along with thousands of
pilgrims, been able to make it to this holy cave at this altitude, a superhuman
act that not everyone can perform in his or her lifetime.
When
I open my eyes, I realize I am praying to the ice Sivalingam with hundreds of
fellow pilgrims. All faces around me are blissful and calm. The whole cave is
charged with serenity and devotion. Some pilgrims are performing puja to Lord
Siva and Parvati at a small temple at the left side of the cave, while most
worship at the naturally formed ice Sivalingam, which is on the extreme right
side of the cave. A fleet of priests assist the pilgrims with their pujas.
Refreshed,
rejuvenated and uplifted, I leave the holy cave thanking Lord Siva millions of
times for blessing me to be able to have His darshan here at what seems the top
of the world.
On
the way down I speak to some of the other pilgrims. Yogita Chanderia, a student
from Bhopal, tells me, “I am feeling great after the darshan. Certainly the
journey was very tough. But what to say? Bhole Baba called and we came.”
We
spot a bhandara and take some light refreshments. Once again I am moved by the
commitment and dedication of the Hindu youth who serve the pilgrims so
selflessly. I spoke with manager Pankaj Bhatia, 32, who recalls, “When we came
here 14 years back, there were no bhandaras and one had to pay $0.74 to buy one
single chapati. My whole family comes, including my two-month-old son. The time
I spend here I consider my real life; the rest is just not important.”
The Journey Home
Though
we had planned to spend the night at Panchtarni after the darshan, we have no
satisfactory arrangements. Our spiritual batteries fully charged, we decide to
leave for Baltal straightaway, though it means covering another 14 km by pony.
Sudharak is exhausted and I am suffering badly from sunburn, but we manage to
endure the six hours of dusty riding. The journey is scenic, but nothing
compared to what we have already experienced.
Baltal
has huge bhandaras. Most pilgrims go to Amarnath from here rather than from
Chandanwari, and more still leave by this route. We stop briefly for food, then
find our taxi. We reach Srinagar well past midnight.
We
will spend several days here. Our main objective—besides resting—is to
interview Chadi Mubarak Mahant Deependra Giri Ji Maharaj [see page 23] as well
as Navin Choudhary, CEO of the Shrine Board [see page 25].
I
seek medical attention for my sunburn. A specialist tells me the epidermis has
completely burnt and a new layer will replace it within a few weeks. In the
meantime, I am quite a sight with my skin peeling off everywhere.
On
the outskirts of town, we visit the famous Kheer Bhavani Temple of the Kashmir
Pandits. We also visit the ashram of the Kashmir Pandit saint Bhagwan Gopinath
Maharaj. I meet Anil Raina, a journalist who has been going to Amarnath since
he was ten. He tells me, “For me, if there is a God anywhere, it is in the holy
cave of Amarnath. Anyone who has been there will tell you about the strong
vibrations you feel. All your fatigue vanishes.”
To
celebrate the success of our trip, I invite photographer Sudharak to have lunch
at prestigious Taj Hotel. The hotel’s panoramic view of Srinagar and adjoining
areas is breathtaking. In the evening we go boating on the famous Dal Lake.
On
the plane back to Delhi I sleep soundly for the first time in days. Lord Siva
appears to me in a dream and whispers, “Rajiv, do you realize I have completely
changed all the fortune lines of your forehead. I have changed your destiny.”
Opening my eyes, I touch my forehead and realize the skin peeling off will
indeed change the lines of my forehead. It is a common belief in India that
one’s destiny is marked on one’s forehead at birth by a Deity. Suddenly I have
a new perspective on the painful and bothersome sunburn. In my heart I once
again thank Baba Barfani for His blessings and especially for these revelations
on the changes the yatra will bring.
Bliss, and a Dusty Return to Civilization
(Voices: Navin K. Choudhary, CEO, Sri Amarnath
Shrine Board)
Om Tat Sat
(Continued...)
(Continued...)
(My humble salutations to Sadguru Sri Sivaya Subramuniyaswami
ji, Satguru Bodhianatha Velayanswami ji, Hinduism
Today for the collection)
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