The One They Left Behind

Kedarnath – Much more than religion

The ‘char-dham’ yatra is probably one of the most sacred pilgrimages for Hindus - Badrinath, Kedarnath, Gangotri and Yamnotri, all in the holistic Uttarakhand region in the Himalayas. The story of the entire journey is much longer. Here, I’ll mention Kedarnath, which probably had the deepest effect on me in recent travels.

The route to Gaurikund was narrow for our bus, and every turn inspired a prayer. As anyone seasoned to long bus travel will tell you, the last seats are the most stable, hence the least nauseous. After regular breaks, we reached Gaurikund late in the night. Soon we were checked in settling to hot meals and sleep. The next morning was bright and sunny. Post an elaborate breakfast of paranthas and sabzis, we were handed nuts to fill out pockets with. Soon to start was the 14km trek.

The path about 6 feet wide, muddy, wet, covered in horse-dung, and we shared it with horses and palki-walahs (wagon-carriers), both going up and coming down at a fierce pace. Walking along the river, we crisscrossed from one mountain to the next. Remains of a glacier and a river running alongside made for the view.

Ever imagined a land which has bright and sunny mornings, and it rains every afternoon? Such is Kedarnath. Locals claim one can match they watch to the 12.30 noon drizzle. By the time we negotiated nearly 10 kilometers, the clouds descended low, and the snow-capped peaks disappeared behind thick fog. Sure enough, there was a drizzle, and the path only became muddier. One had to be careful of horses relieving themselves at will.
 
Soon, we knew we’d arrived. Ahead of us stood the great valley filled with small houses and a little bazaar, with the mighty temple right in the center. The most noticeable merchandise was bright red oxygen cylinders, indicative of the zero ventilation inside the temple. Sure enough, inside, the air was thick of oil-vapors and lit entirely by lamps. A welcoming calmness in the temple was evident. Nearby, a few young sadhus hung around, smoking some funny stuff.

As the day moved on, the cloud-cover descended lower, till everything was nothing but a fog. And then for a moment the peaks appeared floating above the clouds. Was the fable of ‘Lord Krishna’ picking up a mountain to save the villagers from the rain-wrath of ‘Indra’ a similar illusion?

That night, something woke me up. I walked out to the balcony and saw the valley flooded with moonlight, and the elusive snow-capped peaks shone like silver, clearer than in any sunlight. The poor light was god’s way of saying, anyone who wants to see this, will have to make the journey.

The next morning, as the sun rose, the peaks started to glow from the east, much before the sun itself was visible. I had taken over a hundred pictures, but they will never recreate what I was about to leave behind.