Mahakumbh 2013 – 2

We sleep around the clock and wake, refreshed, to daylight in the unfamiliar tent. It is a clear day and, soon after breakfast, we are impatient to set forth for our prayer ritual and the purpose for which we are here – to bathe at the confluence of the holy rivers, the Sangam. We walk down to the river’s edge and into a crowd of jostling devotees, all looking for a ride. After some negotiation, we pick an able pair of boatmen and a sturdy boat that we will have to ourselves. Minutes later, we push off into the shallow waters and row towards  the Sangam, among the debris of floating flowers and fresh coconuts that have been dropped as religious offerings into the river. We climb aboard a ‘prayer boat’ tied to the wooden jetty, it is complete with priest and lamp and fresh flowers! We sit cross-legged for the puja as instructed and close our eyes. I am conscious of being in a time and place revered as most sacred by my parents and their parents and, indeed, millions of Hindus around the world who believe that just being here will lead to Moksha. As the priest intones his prayers, we look inward, name our loved ones and wish for their wellbeing.

The ritual done, we climb down the steps from the jetty into cold, waist-high water. All around us, men, women and children of all shapes and hues, bathe in the  sacred river, pray for their loved ones and seek salvation for themselves. It no longer matters if one is a believer, the setting insists one join the faith. I use my hands to cover my eyes and ears and nose, as my father taught me all those many years ago, and find myself mumbling, ‘one for Bianca, one for Kartik...’ and so on, as I take a dip for each precious person. I cheat a little at the end, making the last one for ‘all my family and friends’! With each dip in the frigid water we gasp with the cold, but it is so exhilarating. In cynical times, I have read of damage to the ecosystem of the Ganges and even thought of it as polluted. Today it is an ancient hallowed river, to be worshipped as a mother goddess who lives up to the belief of millions - cleansing, purifying, forgiving.

 

The morning sets the tone for the rest of our day. We hire a car to take us to the festival ground (Mela Kshetra) and our intrepid driver, Raju, is fearless in negotiating both crowds and obstacles. He frequently resorts to the ‘road less travelled’ even if it was never meant to be travelled! We park far outside the fair ground and Raju takes it upon himself to escort us to the edge on foot, explaining landmarks and imparting instructions as to how we must return. And then we are among the crowds: walking past vendors selling puja paraphernalia and ayurvedic herbs; turning into narrow lanes inhabited by holy men from various sects (Akhadas) including the naked, ash-covered Naga sadhus with long dreadlocks; navigating around camera-wielding tourists on package tours. We are struck by just how many white people are present at the Kumbh,  many with their gurus. We learn that a group of 300 Brazilian believers is staying at our camp - they are doctors and lawyers and professionals. They are led by a South American guru, who met his Indian guru 30 years ago in the Himalayas! All around us, at the dinner table or in formal groups, we hear philosophical discourses about the meaning of Life or the state of Moksha or the next stage of ascendancy that follows Nirvana. It is as if everyone is elevated to a different state of being and removed from the daily tribulations that occupy us in our lesser lives...

 

The riverside Arti forms the perfect end to our second day. It is truly beautiful to see the numerous lamps reflected on the river’s rippling waters. Melodious chanting fills the air as the sweet smell of incense wafts gently in the breeze. All of us receive the blessings, make our offerings and cast flower petals into the water, before we leave. It is a balmy evening as we walk slowly back to our now-familiar camp. We are at peace with the world and as connected with our spiritual selves as we will ever be...