The Paradise On Earth 'KEDARNATH'

DESTINATION:- KEDARNATH, UTTARAKHAND (INDIA)
I started my journey on 26th May 2007 for 3 days. Early morning i started from Kotdwara Garhwal. I passed through places like Pauri, Srinagar, Rudraprayag, Karanprayag, Agastya Muni, Guptakashi, Son Prayag and Gaurikund.It is believed that Srinagar was established by Shri Shankaracharya. The legend says that there was a man-eating rock at Srinagar called Sryntra. Sri Guru Shankracharya threw it in the river. The very name, 'Srinagar' meaning the dwelling place of God conveys the immense sanctity of the town. It is believed that the river Alaknanda writes 'Om' near Srinagar.From Srinagar Garhwal i reached Rudraprayag, the holy Confluence of the Alaknanda and the Mandakini. I halted there for about an hour had a quick look of the place and the beautiful river flowing by. An iron chain has been fixed at the confluences where steps lead to the water. The place derives its name from Rudra, one of the names of lord shiva. It was here that the pride of Narad was humbled. There are various temples of Shiva and Annapurna Devi at Rudraprayag. I had my lunch and took photographs.The road to Kedarnath is along river Mandakini. The valley is enchantingly beautiful. The scenery is rugged and captivating the first place of interest is a wide open plain called Agastya Muni where Rishi Agastya meditated. The legend goes that at time of Shiva's marriage to Parvati, all creatures of the world reached Kedarkhand. The earth tilted towards the North and Shiva himself asked Agastya to go to South to restore the balance. The Muni pounded down the Vindhyas and reached Pothia which is also called Kailas of the South.The first major place after Agastya Muni is Gupta Kashi, a small town with a bazaar on both sides of the road. It was here that Shiva disappeared from the Pandavas, thus giving the name Kashi to the place. It is believed that in the first part of Kalyuga, kashi would be most sacred, in the second part Uttarkashy and at the end Guptakashi.Passing Rampur, I reached Sitapur from where one track leads to Triyugi Narayan to the left, and the other to Kedarnath. It is said that the marriage between Shiva and Parvati was performed at triyugi Narayan which was the capital of Himavat.As i move on, I reached Son Prayag, also called Sondwara or Swarna Dwara. It is said that there was a Swarnadwara here which was taken away by the Rohillas. After five km i came to Gauri-kund by evening. It is the last motor head on the route to Kedarnath. After reaching Gaurikund i looked for a lodge. After keeping my luggage, I had a glance of Gauikund.There are two Kunds-Tapta kund and Gaunkund. Tradition says that Parvati meditated here to propitiate Shiva. There is also a huge rock Uma Shankar Shila. It is said that the spirits of 12 rishis who followed Mahadeva from Srilanka after their expulsion from there, reside in the Shila. Near by are image of Gauri, Radha Krishna and JwalaDevi.After seeing Gaurikund, I had my dinner and went to bed. My spirit was high thinking about the next day's trekking to Kedarnath temple which was about 14 kms.The next morning, at about 6O'Clock well-equipped, I started climbing. People of old age were seen on Palkees and horses. On the way i could find only small petty shops and after about 7 kms i reached Rambara. Its a small seasonal chatti. I could see several water falls near to this place. After having light refreshment, I proceeded further.Just short of Kedarnath, the ascent is steep. The tree-line is left a little a head of cheer Basa Bhairav. The temple comes in view from a distance of about three kilometers viewed against the background of snow-covered peaks. The temple looked gorgeous.Shri Kedarnath is the shrine of Lord Shiva located in the Garhwal region of Uttarakhand. A common saying in Gahwal is "Jitne kankar, utne shankar," meaning that there are as many temples of Shiva as there are stones in Garhwal.Situated on the left bank of the Mandakini, the Kedarnath temple is located at the head of a cup-shaped valley measuring about five kilometers by two kilometers. It is an imposing building with an impressive facade. The Mandakini flows in a serpentine fashion along the side of Kedarpuri, a satellite village of the temple. The shrine is one of the 12 most sacred temples of shiva called Jyotir Lingas. It is a stone structure with huge slabs believed to have been put by Bhim. The temple was erected at the site where Bhim ultimately located Pashupati Nath. It is also said that the temple owes its construction to Janamijaya, the great grandson of Arjuna.The shrine had fallen into decay during the Buddhist era and it was shri Adi Shankaracharya who re-established it. The most commonly believed tradition is that the Pandavas who followed Shiva up to here and were absolved of their sins, built the temple. After its completion, the Pandavas climbed Mahapath, or the great path which is located on the mountain behind the temple. The Pandavas ascended the heaven from here to merge into the Divine.An imposing statue of Nandi stands outside the temple which can be divided in two parts. The front portion is known as the garbha gril and rear as Sabha bhavan. In the garbha grih, images of Parvati, Pandavas, Kunti, Draupadi, Krishna and Ganapati have been carved on stones laid on the walls. The five headed idol of shiva is in the middle. There are 24 images of avatars on the main gate and 64 images on the gate of the garbha griha. In the sabha Bhavan, a triangular icon of impressive dimensions covered by a canopy, represents the hinder parts of the divine buffalo.
The temple is closed for winters on the first day of Kartika falling during Oct-Nov. It's normally closed about a week prior to the shrine of Badrinath and is also opened earlies in Vaisakha. Corresponding to the end of April on early May. During winter, Kedarpuri is completely covered with snow; the accumulation of snow being about two metres high. The area around is marshy and devoid of any vegetation and fuel.
After having a good view of Kedarnath temple by afternoon i moved back to Gaurikund and reached by Sunset. Without having halting here, I headed towards Chamole Garhwal and stayed there. The next morning, after having breakfast, I headed towards Dehradun.

THE POWER OF ONE

It is not everyday that one hears about someone marring himself in a wedding ceremony. But Kevin Nadal, a New Yorker, did just last year. He invited 32 of his close friends and got married to himself in a loft (which incidentally has been used as the location for one of the characters apartment in the well-known TV series, Sex and the City). What was Nadal thinking when he decided to publicly marry himself? The point the 27-year-old was trying to make is simple. He has been quoted as saying,"We always celebrate married life, why not single life? Single people are marginalised in our culture. People think you don't have the commitment to be in a relationship or you're too picky. Women have it tough. Heterosexual men, they get a free pass and are congratulated for being a 'player'. But for gay men and single women, there's a stigma because we don't have a partner." Singles across the world would agree wholeheartedly with Nadal. Infact, the success of Bridget Jones's Diary and its sequel and the spawning of the entire chick-lit genre in publishing comes from the fact that this "marginalised" section of modern society had found a 'voice'.
In a country like India, where getting married is de rigeur irrespective of gender, class, caste or religion, being single is considered to be a deadly malady, not to be contracted at any cost. Maybe a couple of Nadal-style weddings in India could help change a bit of that outdated mindset. After all we as a country have worshipped Ardhnarishwar, the half-man, half-woman avatar of Shiva for centuries now. There are other hidden and not so hidden benefits of this catching on as a trend. Apart from highlighting how singletons are being ignored as 'non-people' by the 'smug-marrieds', marrying oneself may solve a number of other issues like divorce, prewedding jitters, cheating spouses, interfering in-laws, dowry, forgotten birth and wedding anniversaries and such like. The world will also be able to get rid of complaining and nagging spouses forever, which can only be a good thing. Next time you are insensitive or boorish as spouses can often be to each other, remember that you will only have yourself to blame.

Reel, Real Jodhabai

Historians are more or less unanimous that Jodhabai, the so-called Hindu queen of Akbar and Jehangir's mother, is nothing more than a yarn spun by scriptwriters of Bollywood. Director Ashuthosh Gowarikar is, therefore, only restating an historical fiction in his next film. But one sees no harm in tweaking history to make a flick so long as it is interesting and the movie-maker keeps the records straight. As did Ketan Mehta when he made The Rising. After all, one does not watch a movie to learn history. This, of course, is not to deny that the Kachhwaha Rajputs of Amber, who were ancestors of the later rulers of Jaipur, had given a daughter to the Mughals. She was the daughter of Bhagwandas, ruler of Amber, who was uncle and predecessor of Man Singh. Her name is lost in obscurity but she was married to prince Saleem and was the mother of Khusro. Was there a real Jodhabai? And if yes, what role did she play in the Mughul court? Noted historian James Tod provided the answers in his magnum opus Annals and Antiquities of Rajasthan, first published as Annals of Rajputana in 1832.
The author mentions that there indeed was a Jodhabai, daughter of Raj Singh. She was married to Jehangir. And yes, she called the shots in the Mughal court. To give just one instance, she used her influence with Jehangir to secure the throne of Amber for Jey Singh, the grandson of Jagat Singh. It was no small feat. For, it was achieved against the wishes, and much to the dismay of the all-powerful Noor Jehan. This Jodhabai must have been a remarkable woman. It is said that when Jehangir asked Jey Singh (who was later conferred with the title of Mirza), to make a salaam to the queen as a token of gratitude to her, he refused saying it was against the tradition of the Rajputs. This was no small effrontery to a Mughal queen. But Jodhabai not only made light of this by laughing but also bade the new prince of Amber well.
Perhaps it's time the film-makers of Bollywood gave up their obsession with the fictional Jodhabai and planned a film on the real one. It would make a far more interesting movie.

URBAN HEROINES

Till a year ago, The Oval Maidan in Mumbai was an eyesore. This heritage site was a haven for drug pushers, pimps, sex workers, card sharps and all sorts of anti socials. Morchas headed for Mantralaya were a daily nuisance and virtually every inch of the pavement opposite Churchgate Station was usurped by hawkers leaving pedestrians with no space to walk. In other words Oval Maidan was not what it was meant to be- a much-needed green belt for residents in south Mumbai.
A fact that disturbed Neera Punj, Nayana Kathpalia and Kunti Oza very much. Punj, after a long stint abroad, had returned to live near Churchgate, and Kathpalia, an activist with INTACH in Delhi, had shifted base to Mumbai where her home faced the historic Oval Maidan. Oza had lived all her life in the city. The three enterprising women rallied around to set things right. It wasn't easy. They were mocked at, officials were amused and dismissed these 'English-speaking mems'.
But the committed trio, fully aware of their rights, knocked at the doors of the Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation (BMC), local government representatives and finally the Bombay High Court- all this in the early 2000s.
Their relentless crusade eventually paid off. Today morchas have been banned in the area and are stopped at Azad Maidan, the Oval Maidan has been restored to its pristine glory and pedestrians are able to walk on the pavements opposite Churuhgate. Success breeds success. The three are now much sought after for guidance and help by residents' groups spread across the city. Their initiative- Citizens Forum for Protection of Public Space, better known as CitiSpace-now has over 500 paid members who are consulted by the BMC each time an issue of open space arises in the city.
Moral of the story,'If citizens wish to improve the quality of life around them. They can do it. But they have to step out.'

GENDER GAP

Browsing through the World Economic Forum report on gender gap which places India a dismal 53rd amongst 58 countries, I was reminded of my tour to Tehri Garhwal on the eve of the formation of the state of Uttarakhand.As i approached Dehradun i got a feel of the euphoria as it must have been on the eve of national independence. From Rishikesh onwards, the markets were ablaze with bright half-green half-orange flags festooned on every shop, pole and pathway. Banners and ornamental gateways giving good wishes to new state stood every few metres. Come twilight, the building wore strings of gaily coloured light bulbs. Even as the official birth was yet to be, Dehradun Nagar Nigam had put up bright yellow banners at all entry points loudly proclaiming,'You are welcome to the state of Uttranchal'. All the men were out in the streets headed towards the parade ground where at the stroke of the midnight hour history was to be made. Bubbling with enthusiasm, a group of young men drove their two-wheelers in formation through the crowded marketplace, hands thrown up in the air, screaming and shouted with delight. The joie de vivre was infectious.
But where were the women? Strangely, they were absent. Did they not perceive the change or were they wary of celebrating it? Through all the gaiety and merrymaking I could not help recall the four hill women I had crossed on my way down, their backs bent over with enormous loads of firewoods as they trudged miles just as they had been doing for years. They had quietly stepped aside to make way for the new chariots of statehood as they had whizzed past. While one who worked alone on her small terraced field weeding her sparse crop, waiting for her monthly money order from a husband or son, watched the passage. All over our country women remain invisible. Their work is not counted for economic value and now they are going missing too. The gender gaps are all around; the report is only a reminder of reality.

A French Kiss in India- PONDICHERRY

How I Went:- Jumped into a bus at Chennai's Mofussil Bus Depot for a three-hour ride with blaring Tamil music accompanying me down the magnificent beach-lined East Coast Road. Taxis and luxury buses are available, but this is the best way to savour the local flavour.

What I Did:- Checked into an extremely basic and incredibly sanitary room labelled 'Freedom' at the Park Guest House, which is affiliated to the Aurobindo Asharam. Peace, Cheer, Friendship, Serenity.....and many other delightful names offer a balcony with an untrammelled view of a tranquil garden and the Bay of Bengal. I spent a glorious week exploring the symmetrical French quarter of this exquisite town that was under the control of the French government till 1954. There's a whole other side to this city(regular Indian messopolis), but i preferred to keep to the tree-lined boulevards with ornate names.

What I Saw:- All the Pondyessentials.... I strolled down Avenue Goubert(Beach Road) every evening. Lingered over the French War Memorial and Mahatma Gandhi's statue. Watched the gendarmes in their red French caps patrol. Whispered in awe by the samadhi of Sri Aurobindo and the mother at the Aurobindo Ashram. Saw the memorials to poets Subramanita Bharathi and Bharathidasan and all the museums, popped in at the Alliance Francaise and scouted for rare French books at the Romain Rolland Library. Checked out the firangs baking themselves red on Auro Beach. Gasped at the Technicolour beauty of the temples (some date back to the Chola era). Dined on superb continental fare at Le Club and rather iffish Chinese along the beachfront. Found peace as well as the world's largest crystal in the white-on-white environs of the Matri Mandir meditation dome at Auroville(14kms away).

What I Learnt- That Pondicherry plays host to an annual International Yoga Festival in early January-an other reason to go back!

What I Liked:- The stately colonial buildings and vast white and yellow villas with scarlet bougainvillae spilling over artistic gates looked like they belonged in another era of another country. The people were friendly, talkative and very contemporary.

What I Recommend:- With its air of sparkling purity, Pondicherry's great for a holiday that eases jangled nerves. Don't go if you're looking for water sports, discotheques or lavish spas. But if you seek a relaxed sojourn that doesn't cost the earth, yet gives you a taste of the good life with a bit of culture and spirituality thrown in, this is the right place for you.

GROWING WITH SCOOBY

My wonder years were made extra special by cartoons, as with most kids. Flinstones, Jetsons, The Addams Family, Popeye The Sailor and others filled my hours with magic. None, however, compared with the inimitable Great Dane, Scooby-Doo.
For the half hour every day that Scooby was on air, I promptly left the job on hand and made a dash for the remote. I always had to fight to get control of it, what with my entire family pouncing on it at the same time. I would simply raise the give-me-the-remote-or-I'll-tear-the-place-down shrill and voila,'Scooby-Doobey-Doo, Where Are You?' would waft through. My family would leave the room, cursing its fate but finding consolation in the silence that enveloped the house while I was away on some super Scooby adventure. There are so many little things in the show that one comes to love. For one, the Scooby Snack always gave Popeye's spinach a run for its money. I also came to correlate Velmas spectacles with intelligence and longed to have a similar pair for myself.
Scooby taught me some valuable lessons while growing up. He remained the eternal chicken, even though every episode ended with the ghost myth being busted. Before Scooby entered my life, I suffered from cynophobia, a persistent fear of dogs. I would be exaggerating if I claim to be cured of it now, but I am far better off. If dogs themselves get scarred, they're not so scary, are they? Calvin and Hobbes, Asterix and Obelix, Scooby and Shaggy make for some of the best tales of friendship.
With Scooby, I found mine. I could never make my parents watch the zany dog for more than a minute. I was more successful with my sister, who would join Scooby and the gang occasionally. Whether she did it to humour me or because she liked it herself, I can't say. It was 'bonding time' for us, and in this we agree.
Harry Potter came, Pokemon and Bablade are here, but none can create the magic Scooby did so seemingly effortlessly. But there is hope. I caught my two-year-old cousin watching Scooby the other day, thoroughly enjoying himself. The magic will continue after all.