A Place Re-visited

The first drops of rains tingled as they fell upon my cheek. I welcomed the oncoming shower which would relieve me of my exhaustion. Cold, damp and looming clouds had threatened to rain the entire morning. Finally they were to do their bidding.

On the morning of our trek uphill at Vaishnodevi, located in the state of Jammu and Kashmir, I felt slightly apprehensive and at the same time excited. From what I had heard and from the perspective of a 14 year old, a trek of 11kms sounded highly strenuous and intimidating. I was accompanying my father, brother and a maternal uncle’s family. When I reached the base point at Katra, there was a lot of hustle and bustle mingled with loud devotional cries of “Jai Mata Di”. Scraggy makeshift shops and eateries lined the cobblestone path that led to the temple of Vaishnodevi along the first hundred meters. Nescafe booths teemed with localites and foreigners drinking hot beverages to begin the day. The air was heavy and moist and dark clouds loomed overhead. The path was slippery owing to the collection of horse dung in the crevices of the stones. For those devotees incapable of the climb, palanquin bearers and horses could be rented.

As we moved higher, the shops ceased to exist and occurred only at larger intervals. Soon we came to a point where we knew that it was now only us, fellow climbers and the mountain. The path was now beginning to get steeper and the views more breathtaking. Owing to the fact that there was no or inconsistent railing on the side of the path, the journey seemed treacherous.

Many hours later, by midday we reached Ardhkuari which when literally translated reads “Half way”. There was another temple and several eateries. Trained foot masseuses were offering their services to the weary travelers. After a hot lunch of Potato cutlets served with bread we resumed our trek. The greenery was lush and thick. Tall trees and dense forests with predators like tigers were on either side. This time the path took a fifteen degree steep slope. The effort required for each step forward was doubled. The first drops of rains tingled as they fell upon my cheek. I welcomed the oncoming shower which would relieve me of my exhaustion. Cold, damp and looming clouds had threatened to rain the entire morning. Finally they were to do their bidding. The rain came pouring down, drenching us and making the path even more slippery.

After about five hours we finally reached our destination. We felt jubilant and offered our prayers. After the darshan, we stopped at the only eatery in the vicinity. Hot Rajma Chawal rejuvenated us and after an hour of rest on a public bench, we started our descent.

The mountainous landscape, the fresh foliage and engaging determination of our fellow trekkers left an indelible mark on my mind. We came across a myriad of people from different backgrounds and cities and yet felt united for a single cause. The experience besides being religious was also holistic. A must visit for believers and non-believers.

Book Review (Theory of settlement)

Book Title : Swami and friends

Author: R.K.Narayan

Simple language, familiar settings and an aura of homeliness make up the crux of this brilliantly worded novel.  Eleven year old Swaminathan and his friends; the mighty Mani, clever Rajam and meek Pea; paint the town red with their juvenile antics. Set in Malgudi, the entire story is projected as a satire and written through the eyes of young Swaminathan. Hence, even the most mundane happenings are larger than life. The simple joys of running downhill with a hoop and taking a dip in a river with friends are described with all the innocence of a tween. The indomitable teacher, Vedanayagam; Swami’s sullen headmaster and all the rigours of school life are described in tactful detail.

The town of Malgudi is an idealistic south Indian setting along the banks of the fictitious river, Sarayu. Like any other society, it has its own street divisions based on occupation. Vinayaka Mudali Street where Swami lives is a middle class neighbourhood housing doctors, lawyers and the like. Lawley extension which is also Rajam’s neighborhood is an upper class lane consisting of several rows of neat bungalows, mostly occupied by government officials. Abu lane (a low class neighbourhood), Grove street, Ellaman street (occupied by oil mongers) and Nallappa’s mango groves are all other featured aspects of Malgudi.

Malgudi is a very real interpretation of a typical South Indian (tamilian) lifestyle. The author has accordingly played up the importance of religion, Hinduism in particular, in day to day living. His description of Swami’s home, its linear layout and dark vestibules is apt. The threshold with its open drainage on which Swami floats paper boats and the compound walls which provide Swami and friends with ready seating are all subtle reminders of a past which is timeless. Albert Mission School, the bane of Swami’s existence, reflects colonial influence on our society. Images of the school evoked by the author include large vertical French windows and corridors lined with classrooms opening into a playground. Sunset on the sandy banks of the glistening river Sarayu, the gentle breeze ruffling the leaves of Peepul trees lined on the dusty roads, the occasional tinkling of a bullock cart, the hustle and bustle of Ameer Mart and the cheerful banter of young boys rolling along a hoop in the scorching heat; all make me want to break the reality-fiction continuum to enter the town of Malgudi. Its sights, sounds, simplicity and humbleness lure me into a nostalgic reverie.

The author’s expertise lies in the fact that although Malgudi is deep rooted in realism; he manages to give it a certain fictional sheen which lends the book its docile charm.

A sense of something lost and something gained prevails as a footnote long after the book has been kept aside.