In the chill of June 1988, amidst the snow-covered mountains of Lord Kedarnath shrine, Dr Madhuri’s encounter with a mystical Naga Sadhu leaves a lasting impression and intriguing questions. What were those? — Read it exclusively in Truths.
Nineteen hundred and eighty-eight It’s dark outside. And very, very cold. Must be around a degree or two. A chilling predawn amidst tall mountains covered with snow. We arrived the previous evening at the shrine of Lord Kedarnath in the year 1988, June first week. Though some memories remain, few have faded. The trek from Gaurikund had been arduous. Bapi (as I called my father endearingly), around 59, and I alone tried climbing on foot.
After the ritual bath in the hot spring, and the serpentine mountain path of 14 km kept our adrenalin pumped. The mountain road alongside the river Mandakini sometimes became too narrow to navigate, but the zeal kept us going. Of course, there were waterfalls on the way, but not much water flowed due to the onset of winter. The path in some places was slippery, and I almost fell a few times, but thanks to the almighty, nothing happened. For the seniors, the lack of oxygen could be felt. But the youth can overcome such small hurdles on their way to their goal. The blessed chirpy river kept us company, along with the mixed sounds of the mountain buzzard and the clip-clop of iron hoofs on stones by ponies
We reached well before the sun’s last golden rays washed the snowy mountain peaks with gold flakes. Slowly, the valley was plunged into darkness, leaving the surrounding mountain peaks glowing like silver in the moonlit night. The eerie echo of the temple bells and the temple lights along with the ill-illuminated hamlet, created a dream. A dream where the river water and the snow-capped mountains all glittered white and the pockets of darkness were shrouded in eternal mystery. After having our nourishment—chapati and dal—we retired for the evening around eight in a small dharamshala. A group of neighbours had planned this trip a week before and just jumped headlong into the journey.
Anyway, the cold was biting. We tried to sleep buried under three layers of blankets and fully clothed at that. We never knew when sleep claimed us. But I woke up around 3:30 AM. I took a hurried bath in a bucket of near-boiling water and rushed to the temple premise for the early morning darshan. Others promised to catch up with me soon as we had booked the morning Abhishekam of Lord Kedarnath. Bare feet I rushed towards the shrine with the sleepy town slowly waking up to the divine. I was the first to reach the shrine’s main gate around 4:15 AM. I stood in complete awe when I witnessed this hump of a bull as Shivling. The myth says Bhima was able to grab the hump when Lord Shiva tried to escape. According to Hindu mythology, the Kedarnath temple was built by the Pandavas, the heroes of the Hindu epic, the Mahabharata, to atone for their sins. Lord Shiva, who was being pursued by the Pandavas, took the form of a bull and disappeared into the ground at Kedarnath.
The sky was now getting lighter, the glittering peaks were transforming. A group of chattering middle-aged people queued up behind me. The sound of the gushing Mandakini and a few shops playing the songs of the divine kept our senses alert. The cold was numbing. I was shifting from one foot to the other, constantly looking back for my friends. But still, others had not arrived. It was the first rays of the sun that the peaks caught and reflected in the wet locks of the Naga sadhu. His appearance stupefied me. A regal gait, 6ft tall and lean mass moving panther-like towards the shrine. Covered in ash and as naked as was born. I was gawking at the divine appearance and wondering why the locals rushed to touch his feet. His dreadlocks reached his waist. And the ashes could not hide the fire in his eyes. Along with awe, there was a yearning to cover him up in this biting cold. He reached the premise and circled the shrine seven times. And I thought to myself that I must give him a blanket to cover himself in this cold. He never entered the shrine. And by this time the doors had opened, and my friends had reached, so we were the first to enter the sanctum.
The Abhishekam took around an hour and a half. By the time we came out the sun had risen. It was around 7 o’clock and the town was teeming with devotees and locals. We stepped down into the busy market looking for some breakfast before we started our journey back. I was checking out local shops for souvenirs and suddenly someone called me, just behind my back, asking me for the blanket I had promised him. Stunned, I turned back. And there stood the Naga Sadhu with a trident in one hand, covered in ashes, with burning eyes looking at me or I can say through me. Hypnotised, I just went to the blanket shop, tongue-tied. I bought a blanket for Rs 100 and handed it to him. He took it from me, looked at me and handed it to a nearby beggar. He retreated into the melee with long strides and was lost even before I could fully understand what happened. I never promised him, but had only thought of giving him a blanket, then how come he knew about it?
It’s a memory etched in my mind.
Picture design by Anumita Roy
Food for much thought — thank you.