The Holy Gauri Kund

Haridwar is synonymous with the famous Ganga Arti at Har ki Paudi, rope ways at Chanda-Mansadevi. Every where you go there are hordes of pilgrims, which have given birth to hundreds of Vikram Rickshaws and Cycle Richkshaws blocking the road with hotels, dhabas, shops selling religious paraphernalia and offices of private tour operators on both the sides. An ordinary pilgrim wonders if he will really find peace of mind in this chaos. Even I was posed with the same question and I found an answer for myself that too in the affirmative.

The best way to know a place is by foot. After having visited all the tourist spots shown by the local sight seeing bus, I wanted to embark upon something which is not there on the tourist itinerary. So I ventured out and serendipitously stumbled upon a paradise, in the crowded pilgrim city, known as Gauri kund.

Gauri kund is located near the famous temple of Bilkeshwar. Gauri kund is the place where Mata Parvati carried out a penance for three thousand years to have Shiva as her husband.

Bilkeshwar temple is located on a hillock. On my way to the hillock I found a small shrine devoted to Panchmukhi Mahadev. I had seen panchmuki, dashmukhi elephant but Shiva Lingam with five faces was a rarity.

The climb to the hillock was pleasant with trees every where you saw. The atmosphere was pleasant. There were hardly any visitors. Locals boys played cricket in the courtyard. I entered Bilkeshwar temple and paid by obeisances. The temple appears to be built rather renovated during the recent times.

A small arch from the Bilkeshwar temple premises leads to the Prachin Gauri Kund. As I entered the arch I was enter a different world. I was surprised to have entered into a forest. A rocky path way took me to Gauri kund, which is located at the foot of another hill. The air was dry. The leaves fallen from trees crackled as I stepped upon them. There was silence everywhere.

Why do all the forests have peculiar smells and sounds? As I pondered over it, I could see a sage with long locks of hair stomping towards me. His neck was tilted and he babbled words which I was unable to comprehend. He kept on jerking his neck with every step of his brisk walk. Sadhus and sages have always fascinated me. But this time I was bit scared. He crossed me and went into the woods without giving me a single look. I wanted to capture him in my camera. But his sight was so intimidating that I did not dare to do so.

I moved further. Surrounded by dense forest, with two huts housing the sadhus, the place was scenic and serene. The huts had rounded stones from the river bed nicely placed over one another as their wall compound. The rounded stones added to the beauty of the place and were not sore in the eyes like renovated temples with marble. I could hear the peacocks mow but was not fortunate enough to spot one.

A small bridge upon a creek took me to Gauri kund shrine. On alighting a few steps, there was an old bilva tree standing devoid of any leaves. With only its fruits like balls hanging it stood out.

On the left was a marble statue of Shiva. On the right was the Gauri kund. Gauri kund is like a small well housed in a temple. It is covered with glass and I was able to see the fresh water deep down. There were idols of gods and goddesses near the kund. I came out and spoke to the young Sadhu who was the caretaker of the shrine. He asked to take the holy water from the kund. The kund was covered with glass. I wondered how I could have water from it. He pointed out to the tap. Water was drawn from the holy kund by a pipe. I had it with much reverence. Another tap also provided an opportunity to take a dip into the holy water. I thanked the young swami. He refused to be photographed.

A very small path along the creek took me to see the holy cave. The cave had an iron gate at the entrance with a lock. I pushed my nose into the iron bars to have a close look at the cave. I could see some idols installed inside. I prostrated before the deity and came back to the Gauri kund shrine.

There was something about this place. There were no sounds to disturb. It was hard to believe that this place was sitting on the lap of a bustling city called Haridwar. The silence brought me closer to the divinity. I was able to feel that this shrine was indeed living. Its holiness, purity and positivity entered into every pore of my body making me realise the purpose of making holy pilgrimages. I had come to Haridwar – the door of the Gods and was not going empty handed. 

Dewas the abode of Gods

Dewas literally means the abode of the Gods. I had been hankering to visit this quaint town for quite some time. There was no particular reason for the hankering. I knew it housed some temples. Those temples are neither well known like Ujjain or Omkareshwar nor are they known to be any architectural marvels. But still there was some pull which was drawing me towards Dewas.

I was to board my bus for Udaipur from Indore in the night. I decided to make a day trip to Dewas. It was still dark when I got down at Sarvate bus stand and boarded a bus for Dewas. I literally alighted from one bus and squeezed myself into another. In Madhya Pradesh government transport is only namesake and the private buses are the only mode of transport for the commoners.

When I arrived at Dewas it was still dark. I alighted at the bus stop. It was pitch dark. Not a soul was to be seen on the roads. I wanted to freshen up before I started for the temple. I found only one lodge on the road by name Surya. It was undoubtedly the ugliest lodge I had ever seen in my life. As stated earlier I just wanted to have a bath and had no plans to stay overnight. Moreover there was no other better option in my hands. So I decided to put up at Surya.

After bath I started for the temple which locales call as Tekri meaning a hillock. It was six in the morning and was terribly cold. The temple is near the bus stand and is walkable. You do not need any conveyance to reach there. Rather it would be appropriate to say that no conveyance reaches to the top. Though I was able to spot policemen riding their bikes to the hillock.

Before the ascend to begin I was able to spot the bungalow of the famous classical singer Kumar Gandharva to my left. I was super excited. But the fact that the great singer is no longer alive and I would not be able to meet him in flesh and blood disheartened me. I thanked all the recording companies for preserving his voice for many generations to come.

As it was petty early in the morning even most of the shanties selling flowers, coconuts, chunari, photos and other religious paraphernalia were still closed. The vendors were brushing their teeth and heating water on the earthen stove for bath.

I entered the iron gate which was probably erected to prevent motorcycle riders from taking their bikes to the top. I began the steep climb. The Tekri appeared to be a favourite spot for people of Dewas to go for morning walk and exercises. Men and women in tracksuits and walking shoes were climbing and descending, greeting each other a good morning. There was a man who was climbing alone with Marathi songs from the film Asthavinayak playing on his mobile. I was proud to hear Marathi songs being played out of Maharasthra. But I was equally ashamed as a Marathi man was committing the sin of breaking the peaceful, serene and pious environment with the noise blaring from his Chinese handset which promised high pitch sound.

There are benches installed on the way for the pilgrims to sit. Many of them were broken. There was drinking water facility as well. However the plight of the water station was such that I doubt if anyone would dare to drink a single drop therefrom.

The walk though steep is not much in distance. As you climb up mesmerizing views of Dewas town are on offer. The town had slept covered with a blanket of mist over it. The Sun had come out gently kissing the houses and making them to get out of the blanket.

First came the temple of Tuljabhawani who is also known as the badi Mata. The temple appears newly constructed. Though the idol of the Goddess is old.

The Goddess is charming with beautiful eyes that bestow benediction. The courtyard of the temple offers breathtaking view of the town rightly called as Dewas. The yellow tiger seated in the courtyard has eyes made of marble and catches attention.

After prostrating before the badi Mata I proceeded for the parikrama. There are numerous small shrines on the parikrama path. I saw a big Trishul standing tall. To prevent any loss of life due to landslides the moutains that overlook the path are covered with nets.

Dense greenery and steep valleys and not to mention the morning walkers accompanied me throughout my parikrama and for that matter my visit to the shrine.

The cutely decked up Hanuman too was quite a site.

Until I visited Dewas for me Kho-Kho was just a game. But I discovered Kho-Kho Mata's mandir on the way to Parikrama. I was happy to have found a goddess with an unusual name. I wish there was some more information available regarding the Kho-Kho goddess.

Then comes the Choti Mata's temple. You have to climb a few steps to reach the temple.

 Choti Mata is bigger in size than the badi Mata and her gigantic form takes you in complete awe. 

Her temple is an ancient rock structure peculiar to the architecture of the Marathas.

There are banyan trees with their wide expanse in the premises of choti Mata's temple.

There is a small shrine of Kalbhairava too. He appears alive and has the most expressive features.

Also stood in the premises a Sadhu amidst a dhooni and Goraknath's idol. Sadhus and their lives have always fascinated me. But I do not know why I did not feel like talking to him. Choti Mata's temple is the highlight of the Dewas trip and it does not disappoint you for sure. There was a large group of devotees who had come to pay their respects to the choti Mata. But still the atmosphere was serene. A photographer managed to entice them and they clicked pictures with the huge Choti Mata in the backdrop. Everyone including the photographer cleaned the sanctum of the temple with a broom. This custom was unknown to me. Perhaps it was an act to fetch good deeds and enter good books of the goddess.

I completed my parikrama. There is a relatively new Jain temple at the end of the parikrama.

The Tekri has numerous trees. These ancient trees along with the shrines are indeed a part of our culture which all of us should be proud of.

But this jewel of our culture is calling for preservation. Everywhere on the Tekri you find dirt of plastic cups and bottles, coconut husk, papers and such other stuff. When will we realize that the Goddess does not reside only in the shrine but this Tekri itself is manifestation of that mother divine?

I descended the Tekri and took a tempo to go to Keladevi. It is at the distance of 3 kms from the Tekri. Keladevi is a private temple complex which has newly constructed temples of Vaishnodevi, Keladevi, Hanuman and Shiva. It has towering statutes of Hanuman and Devi. Keladevi offers nothing special and can be given a miss for sure.

Instead head to Bilavali where Mahakaleshwar resides. Bilavali is a quaint village at a distance of 3 kms (Both Keladevi and Bilavali are in opposite directions) from Devas. It houses the ancient Mahakaleshwar temple. Though the temple is recent cement concrete construction, the ugliest thing which is done under the name of renovation, it is located in a serene and peaceful atmosphere. The air was cool and I could feel the positive spiritual vibrations of the place.

It has a Hanuman temple and a small Bhairav temple as well. Sitting on the bench near the Bhairav temple I watched the temple. The huge banyan tree with a mongrel under its shade made the picture perfect.

Devas is indeed the abode of Gods and I soaked as much spirituality inside me as I could. My only wish – it should have been cleaner. 

Around Udaipur Fascinates Me

The next day I booked a ticket for the tour (guided word is deliberately avoided) of places around Udaipur. We motley group of people with diverse languages and even nationalities are waiting for the bus. We have a very beautiful woman from Spain in our bus. (In fact she is the only foreigner) She is wearing bangles, bindi and had henna on her hands. She had come for a friend's wedding in India. She tells me that she loved chai and Indian people. Good to see that in spite of the recent untoward incidents towards foreign women they still carry good impression about India and its people.

The bus arrives and all of us hop in. The bus is a sleeper bus which plies at the night time. It is being used during day time for sight-seeing tours to make more money. I am asked to sit cross-legged on the upper berth. I refuse. So I am given a lower berth at the last. The upper berth which I was offered is given to the foreigner. She happily climbs up and occupies her seat. I have been on many day tours at many places in the country, but no where I was taken around in a sleeper bus. The disadvantage of sleeper bus apart from the fact that I have to sit cross-legged is that it comes with sliding Formica partitions. The family sitting on the opposite berth choses to closely guard their privacy and closes the partition. As a result while the bus is moving I am refused my right to see as to what is happening on the other side of the road.

Finally we all have settled on our seats or in better words resigned to our fate. After an hour or so the bus stops at the highway. All of us are asked to get down and visit the temple to the left. We are at Ghasiyar. The driver doubles up as a guide to tell us about the spots we are visiting. However he miserably fails as a guide because he does not tell much apart from the instructions go here and go there.

We climb up the fleet of steps to visit the temple. On entering the temple, there are wooden steps akin to those in an amphitheatre where all of us sit. The sanctum is curtained. The Spanish woman comes from behind. She does not know what is happening and is apprehensive to come in. She stands in the corridor. I ask her to come inside and sit, for the darshan will begin soon. I tell her about the custom whereby the doors of the sanctum are closed periodically and opened only seven times in a day. This was the knowledge which I had recently acquired from the Gujarati family seated next to me. As the driver has not dished out any instructions I feel that this is the famous temple of Shrinathji at Nathdwara. Again the Gujrati family adds to my knowledge by telling me that this is Ghasiyar where Shrinathji had stayed and not Nathdwara.

Sun on the top of the head at Ghasiyar conveying it is 12 pm

Finally the doors of the sanctum open and we prostrate before a picture of Srinathji. Yes there is just a picture and not an idol. The foreigner asks me the name of the god and remarks that you have so many gods. 

Our next stop is haldi ghati. We climb up the hillock at haldi ghati. The mud hardly appears yellow. There is a museum perched on the hillock. All of us are asked to wait inside the gates by the cleaner who addresses the driver as Ustad. We wait there for more than fifteen minutes. Few members from our bus have already entered the museum. When I enquire with the cleaner as to where his Ustad is I am being told that he is having his meals. The Gujarati family comes with a resolution that we should not wait for him and enter the museum. I second their resolution and all of us enter the museum. 

The museum is akin to a theatre. We wait in the corridors as the gates of the hall are closed. Gujarati family is busy clicking pictures against the backdrop of Maharana's statue. The guard asks them if they possess a camera ticket. They show their camera tickets and reprimand the guard for being rude. The gates are opened and we enter a room which has the haldi ghati model in the middle. There are also swords, armour, helmets adorned on the walls for display. One voice welcomes us and asks us to come near the model at the centre. An employee of the museum tells us the story of haldi ghati by pointing out to the places by the pointer in his hands. We are told how Maharana's horse Chetak was disguised as an elephant and how he ran 5 kilometers in spite of losing his limb.

Mural at the entrance of the museum

Then we make our way through a small door into a theatre which screens a short animated film on the great warrior. Thereafter we are on a guided tour of murals displaying various incidents from the life of the Maharana. At the exit are the stalls selling delicacies made from the roses, amla and other local produce. I purchased gulkand and amla chutney. I must say that the quality of the products is indeed worth admiring. There is a small pool with paddling boats. Due to the heavy rush of people to find their ways to the pedal and the micro size of the pool I decided to give up the thought of boating. The in house restaurant of the museum offered good food. They offered an unlimited thali for a fair price. But I had no appetite, so I gave up the idea of having lunch. Instead I settled for the sugarcane juice which was extracted live in front of you that too by a real kolu ka bail. Unlike city palace at Udaipur the haldi ghati museum provides worth for the money. 

We board the bus again. As we move forward the cleaner announces to have a from the window darshan of Rana's horse Chetak's samadhi. But as the bus is moving and as the view of the other side is hindered by the partition I hardly get to see it.

We stop by the road to visit a cave where Rana had stayed. The cave is natural and is cool. There is a shivlingam near the cave. One Sadhu was meditating across the dhuni. I banged my head against the roof of the cave. As I rubbed my scalp, the Sadhu informed us that there is a secret alley through the cave which leads to Chittorgarh.

Next the bus navigates through a narrow road which is cut through the mountains. The cleaner jumps from the bus digs a little gravel from the mountain wall and hops into the bus again. He shows the lump of the soil which he has extracted to everyone. It is indeed yellow in colour just like the turmeric after which the ghati is named as haldi ghati.

Samadhis at Rakt Talai

Now we are at the battle field. This place is called Rakt Talai. Talai means lake. Hundreds of soldiers were killed during the famous haldi ghati battle which took place in the monsoons. The rain water took the blood of the soldiers with it into the lake. As a result the lake appeared like a lake of blood. Hence the name Rakht Talai. The water from the lake dried up long back and people started encroaching on it. Therefore the government created a garden here. The garden has samadhis of various ministers who gave up their lives in the battle.

Our next destination is Nathdwara. We are dropped on a crowded highway and asked to take a rickshaw for the temple. The rickshaw drops us at the opening of a road which is crowded with shops. First come the eateries, then the shops selling religious paraphernalia more particularly images of Shrinathji. 

The huge doors of the temple are closed. Hundreds of people are waiting outside the doors. Some are civilized to form a queue. But they are affecting the sales of the shops as the queue goes on expanding and hindering the view of the shops. The shopkeepers keep on telling that there is no need to form any queue. Yet the queue soars up. There is a separate queue for men and women.

 The loud speakers from the temple are appealing to the devotees that there is no special darshan in the temple. Yet the pandas are offering devotees lucrative deals which include a direct darshan to a couple, which includes man and a woman, at the same time. The man standing next to me appears to be interested in the offer. He negotiates to take two couples at the price of one. There is some one, I guess his brother, accompanying him. The priest asks for double the price. The negotiations fail. 

The doors open. There is chaos. The queue is disbursed and everyone rushes to the doors. There are small children with the men. Many of them are carrying cradles with baby Krishna in it. The doors are colourful. After getting inside the temple premises we are again made to stop at a point. The police man is blocking our way with a rope. After fifteen minutes we are permitted to go in. The temple has steps like those at Ghasiyar. The beautiful idol of Shrinathji can be seen even from the last step. Right now there are only men in the darshan hall. Groups of men and women are sent into the temple alternatively.

I must say in spite of all the chaos there is something about Shrinathji which stays with you. The exit for men is from another door which opens into another lane. Through bare feet I tramp through the ugliest lanes of Nathdwara. Though in Rajasthan Nathdwara appears to be in Gujarat. There are Gujaratis everywhere. The display boards are in Gujarati, hotels are offering Gujarati menu, the tour operators are offering buses for Ahmadabad and of course the people are speaking in Gujarati. I take a rickshaw to the spot where my bus was supposed to park and get into the bus. Unlike yesterday's Udaipur's weather it is terribly hot at Nathdwara. Soon all the members turn up and the bus proceeds for the next destination which is Eklingji.

Eklingji is a beautiful temple complex. The rock cut temple has exquisite carvings. Undoubtedly Eklingji is one of the masterpieces of Indian temple architecture. There is a group of men and women reciting bhajan in the sanctum. The sanctum is cooler compared to the hot air outside. There is a queue in the sanctum. Standing in the queue I appreciate the beauty of this ancient temple. There is floor above the sanctum. Its balconies open into the sanctum of the temple. The queue moves quickly and I am in front of the Lord. Smell of flowers mixed with incense, so typical to the ancient temples, fills in my lungs. The panda hands over to me a fragrant garland as prasad. It is worth mentioning here that I have not offered a single paisa or any thing in kind. Indeed there are very few temples like Eklingji in India.

The bus drops me back to Udaipur. I must say unlike the Udaipur tour, I have throughly enjoyed this trip. This trip was a revelation. Travel is as much about people as it is about scenic surroundings, ancient monuments and shopping. I can never enjoy a travel when its most important ingredient – people is missing. 

Overrated Udaipur

It is early morning. I wake up and occupy the seat near window. My bus is few kilometers away from Udaipur. This is my first visit to Rajasthan. For me Rajasthan has always been about deserts, camels, folk songs and dances. However I am unable to spot any desert or sand. What I see is lush greenery everywhere.

Its seven in the morning. The bus drops me at the bus stand. It is chilling cold. I have a cup of tea on the road side shanty. I enquire at one of the numerous travel booking offices about day trips and sight-seeing packages. “The bus will leave at 8.30 am” He tells me. I abandon the plan to board the bus. I want to freshen up.

I am staying at an artist's place near Amba Mata Temple. No wonders the room though spartan has been done aesthetically. There is painting of haveli adorning the wall. Another one has a framed picture of Srinathji. Colours and palette are neatly placed in the rack. I have hot water bath. As I come out of the bathroom I am still shivering. I had made travel plans for Rajasthan thinking that it would be pleasant in the month of December. But it is chilling cold. I wear layered clothing and hop into the auto which is going to take me around Udaipur.

Me at Rana Pratap Smarak

My auto skirts on the border of the massive Fateh Sagar Lake. Udaipur though in Rajasthan has no dearth of water. The auto comes to a screeching halt. The driver asks me if I want to visit Rana Pratap Smarak. He tells me there is nothing much to see except a small garden. I don't want to miss on anything and I decide to visit it. I am required to purchase a ticket. In Udaipur you have to purchase tickets everywhere. The tickets are priced at the higher end. I am disappointed for the garden has nothing to offer apart from a statue of Rana Pratap and murals depicting his life and times. When I ask a local caretaker as to what connection the garden has with the warrior king, I am being told that he had stayed there for twenty years.

Rana Pratap Smarak

Our next destination is Saheliyon ki baari. It is nothing more than a fountain housed within four walls and surrounded by a beautiful garden.

Saheliyon ki Baari

We go to Shilpagram next. The driver tells me that it is a village recreated. He gives me one hour to visit it. It turns out to be just another handloom and handicraft sale displaying wares of different States. Yes there were some folk performances as well. But perhaps I was there at the wrong time.

Monsoon palace was a hunting lodge. It is perched atop Banswara hill. It was built by Sajjan Singh. Hence it is also known as Sajjan Garh. The auto dropped me at the base. I purchased tickets for the palace as well for the conveyance which was to take me to the top of the hill. The trained car driver adroitly manoeuvred through the serpentine path leading to the top. The small journey offered breathtaking views. I came across a group of cyclers who were cycling to the top. I throughly enjoyed this ride. I understood the true meaning of the term enjoy the journey and not the destination.

Monsoon Palace

View from a jharoka at the monsoon palace

City palace is a museum which again charges exorbitant entry fees and does not even offer a complimentary guide. It is the largest palace in Rajasthan. It was founded by Udai Singh in the 16th century, after whom the city is named Udaipur. The palace is actually conglomeration of palaces built over a period spread over more than 400 years. Still it looks surprisingly sync, one piece creation. It houses two hotels – Shiv Niwas and Fateh Prakash. The palace was too crowded with visitors. Its wall paintings have been restored. Narrow passages and steep staircases take you to the terraces and the apartments. But the crowd and the absence of any one to guide you is a huge disappointment. A visit to city palace turns you on and leaves unsatisfied.

Jagdish Temple is at a stone's throw from the city palace museum. It was built in 1651. One has to climb steep stairs to reach the temple. The temple is worth a visit. Black idol of Jagannath it the chief diety of the temple. This temple is built in the typical Mewad style architecture.

View of the lake from Bagore ki Haveli

Bagore ki Haveli, told the driver, was the place which housed the attendants of the palace, particularly those who looked after the huge fleet of elephants, horses and camels. The haveli has been restored. A room has been kept deliberately unrestored to give the visitor an idea of before and after state of the haveli first hand. Unlike the crowded city palace this haveli gives you solitude and lets the royal architecture seep inside you. It offers beautiful views of the lake pichola from its roof top. It depicts Rajasthani art and culture through the small museum it hosts.

Bagore ki Haveli

Udaipur – an exotic location seen umpteen times in movies and romantic novels is on everyone's wish list. But to me it was a huge disappointment. May be perhaps I came with too many expectations. Had I been a firang whose country  never  have had any monarchy and the resultant palaces, I would have been swooned by the palaces and havelis which are now converted into hotels and roof top restaurants.