Sri Kedarnath

Kedarnath

There's no place else on Earth that has more holidays than India. Not only does it celebrate even the most obscure Hindu holy days with time off from work and school, but also the major Moslem, Jain, and Christian holy days as well, plus the assortment of government holidays. The combination of Vijaya Dashami & Dussera gave my college another week off from classes. Faced with that much down time, 3 of us American faculty decided it was time to see Kedarnath (kay-DHAR-not).

Kedarnath is high in the Himalayas and is open only from May to October. It is closed due to snow the rest of the year. If we were going to see any of the high country holy places, we had to go now or wait till next spring. I mentioned our intention to Urs, the Swiss faculty member who speaks fluent Hindi and has lived many years here in India. He said that his car mechanic in Noida could arrange a car and driver for us who was expert at driving the tricky mountain passes. We drove to the mechanic's garage and negotiated the terms of the deal. We were to start on Thursday the 1st of October at 7AM. The trip will be a full day's drive to Rudra Prayag, an overnight stay there, then a 3 hour drive to Gaurikund. From there we will hike on foot approximately 6 hours up the mountain to Kedarnath. Stay overnight there, and then return.

Thursday morning 7AM: no taxi. 7:30AM: still no taxi. I get Urs and we call the taxi company. No answer. At 8AM we drive to the taxi company. No taxi company. They have moved and none of the locals knows where. We drive to the mechanic's home in Noida. He is apologetic saying he arranged the whole thing and doesn't know why the taxi did not show. He drives to the new location of the taxi company and we follow in Urs' car. Urs' mechanic discusses the issue with his friend, the boss at the taxi company. It seems a day earlier the taxi owner had paid a visit to the mechanic to get confirmation that the Kedarnath trip was on. The mechanic had received the owner as an old friend and offered him chai (tea). The owner assumed the mechanic knew that the purpose of this visit was to get confirmation of the trip, so he did not broach the subject. When the mechanic did not mention the trip, the owner assumed the trip was off. The mechanic did not realize he was supposed to mention the trip because he thought it was purely a friendly visit. One of my favorite quotes from Rik Veda, 10th Mandala is, "The gods are fond of the indirect; yea, verily the gods are fond of the indirect." Sometimes the subtleties of Indian etiquette are so obscure that even the Indian's don't read the signs properly.

The owner says it is no problem to get a car and driver. Just wait 5 minutes. Of course the definition of 5 minutes is different to an Indian than to a Westerner. It is now 8:15. We figure 5 minutes actually means 15 minutes and bide our time. By 9AM still no car. Finally the promised new red Maruti van shows up. We start to load up and the owner waves us off. It seems the driver's "Mommy & Poppy" have told the driver he is not to go to Kedarnath. We wait another 15 minutes.

A full hour and a half after we arrived at the taxi company a beat up Maruti arrives. The doors & windows won't open from the inside, but what the hey. We pile in and start our trek. For some reason Rusty is apprehensive. With things going so smoothly I can't imagine why. He checks out the gas gauge. Empty. He directs the driver's attention to it and receives the usual “No problem.” We drive another 15 minutes and pull into a petrol pump (gas station). Cars come and go but we do not get refueled. After several minutes of observing the driver and station attendants stand around and stare at the rear end of our van without actually doing anything, we decide to check it out.

The gas cap is locked and our driver does not have the key. What to do? The driver does not speak English, we do not speak Hindi, but as best we can make out, the driver is suggesting 2 alternative solutions: 1) He will call the taxi company, they will dispatch a car with the gas cap key. 2) We wait for a Maruti van to pull into the petrol pump and use their key to open our cap. As for option #1, I figure that it took an hour and a half for the taxi company to locate a car. There is no guarantee they can get another car any sooner this time, also there is no guarantee they will bring the right gas cap key. As for number 2, we do not know how long it will take for another van of the same year or model to show up and repeating this procedure throughout our 5 day trip seems like a needless delay.

It is now 10:30AM and our trip has been delayed repeatedly. We opt to reschedule our departure for Friday the 2nd. The taxi driver finds our behavior perplexing & amusing. He obviously thinks that everything is going along smoothly, why stop now? Yes, us Westerners are an inscrutable lot.

On Oct. 2nd the taxi driver showed up at promptly 7AM, he had with him a key to the gas cap of our Maruti van, and we felt the Mahurta (auspicious time for beginning any event) was propitious. The drive was pleasant. Most of that day the temperature was in the 90 Degree Fahrenheit range. As we drove, we realized that going as far as Rudra Prayag would take us pretty late into the evening. We hit Dev Prayag around 5PM and elected to stop.

Prayag and sangam mean a confluence of rivers. There are 5 confluences of rivers in this area, called Panch Prayag. Dev Prayag is the confluence of the Bhagirathi and the Alakananda Rivers. Perhaps you recall the story: King Sagar performed the Ashwamedha (horse) sacrifice in order to establish dominion over all of Earth. Indra, ruler of the gods, was jealous of the mortal ruler's power. So he surreptitiously led the horse to the vicinity of the powerful sage Kapila Muni. King Sagar sent his 60,000 sons to find the horse. After searching all over the surface of the Earth, the 60,000 sons started to dig into it. They found the horse grazing near the meditating Kapila Muni. They jumped to conclusions and started to harass the sage.

Treating highly enlightened sages with disrespect is generally not a good idea. Kapila Muni opened his eyes and instantly incinerated the entire lot. After the 60,000 sons and sacrificial horse failed to show up, King Sagar sent his other son, Anshuman to look for them. The 60,000 sons had blazed a pretty wide trail (no pun intended) so following them to Sage Muni's hermitage was not too difficult. Anshuman handled the diplomacy better than his 60,000 brothers. He found out that only the waters of the Ganga once washed over the ashes of the 60,000 could liberate the souls of his brothers. He tried and failed to get Ganga to descend to Earth. Likewise his son Dilip fell short of the mark.

Sagar's great grandson King Bhagirathi performed great tapas (austerities) to propitiate Vishnu to allow Ganga to descend from Heaven and succeeded. But the force of Ganga's fall would have destroyed the Earth. So next he performed even more severe tapas to propitiate Shiva to break the force of the fall. Shiva agreed. Ganga in her pride and anger fell with all her force onto Shiva's matted locks, but Shiva held her in her entirety. She wandered for years lost in his hair but could not find her way out. Again Bhagirathi propitiated Shiva. Finally after several more years Shiva allowed a small stream of Ganga to descend to Earth.

The agreed upon deal was that Bhagirathi would lead Ganga to the 60,000 and she would follow. Several more obstacles blocked the path and had to be solved. One stoppage occurred when she passed the saptarishis, the 7 rishis, and they refused her passage. Bhagirathi told her to divide herself into 7 streams and touch the feet of the rishis. She did this and was permitted to pass. These are the 7 streams that fall from high up in the Himalayas and eventually merge together to form the Ganges River.

Finally Ganga reached the 60,000 brothers, purified their ashes so their souls could ascend to heaven. This place is identified as Sagar Island in the Bay of Bengal and is a place of huge pilgrimage.

Back to Dev Prayag, it is the final confluence of the 7 streams. From that point onward is the actual Ganges River. Dev Prayag is considered the 2nd most auspicious sangam in India, behind only the Prayagraj of Allahabad. We found a hotel, and then walked to the sangam for our dip. The waters refreshed the body and the soul.

Why do people go to India? It's not for the skiing, the golfing, the gambling or theme parks. Nations historically went to India for riches. But the people who fall in love with the culture do so because of its spirituality. Everywhere you go in India is hallowed. There are shrines, mandirs, gurudwharas, masjids, temples, and churches on every block. And even that is not enough. Trees are festooned with flowers and paid homage. Sacred Cows wander everywhere. Then there is the traditional Indian greeting, "Namaste," which is lyrically translated as "the Divine which is in me, bows to the Divine which is in you." There are renunciates, sages, sadhus, sanyasis, saints, aspirants, babas, shastris, and holy people where ever you go. Everywhere there is a holy spot where the Divine is paid homage. With over 1 billion people performing daily obeisance, the whole country feels spiritual.

Years ago I heard a lecture by a professor who had done a temple tour of India. I remember listening to the anecdotes of his pilgrimage and thinking to myself, "I'd really like to do that." But where would I find the time or the freedom to do this? Somehow Nature has supported this desire of mine. In the context of my job I am sent to India and am able to take time off to see the incredible sites of this huge, magnificent country.

We left our hotel at 6AM the morning of the 3rd. It was going to be a long day and we wanted to get an early start. We drove to Rudra Prayag for lunch. From Delhi to Haridwar was flatland and we averaged 80 kmp. Haridwar, through Rishikesh and onto Rudra Prayag was a more gradual ascent through rolling hills. We encountered a lot of switchbacks but were able to maintain a 50kmp rate. But from Rudra Praya the switchbacks became serious with many hairpin turns. Our rate of travel dropped to 20 kmp. In several places the road was gone, and our delicate 2WD Maruti van picked its way across rock strewn avalanche aftermaths of what was once the road. The other vehicles were all 4WD Tata Sumo's, jeeps, and an occasional Toyota Land Cruiser.

Driving in the mountains in India is a trip in every sense of the word. Cars are supposed to drive on the left-hand side of the road. However, when one side of the road has a sheer cliff incline and the other a sheer drop-off, the natural tendency is to hug the inner wall regardless of direction of travel. Rounding outside curves is a breathtaking experience because you never know if a bus is hurtling down from the other direction leaving you a split second before glimpsing ultimate reality. The sporadic news stories of buses and cars plunging off the road and crashing several hundred meters below help to fuel the imagination. The traveler must just surrender to the experience. Fortunately the 3 of us felt at a quiet feeling level that our time was not yet up. The many near misses were just viewed with amusement. Of course it could also be argued that newly reaching a higher altitude produces a rapture that warps the judgment. But whatever the cause, the drive was pleasant and the scenery worth whatever risks we were taking.

We reached Gaurakund by 1PM. My goal had been to walk up the 14 km ascent to Sri Kedarnath. But the 1 km walk from the parking lot up a 200 meter incline to the mule rental area left me breathless. Gaurikund is just less than 2000 m. high, but my body had had no time to adjust to the altitude. We rented the mules and started our ascent. Thousands of pilgrims make the climb every day. I was ashamed of myself when I saw little old ladies dressed in saris and sandals making the climb on foot. But all I could do was sit in the saddle like a sack of potatoes.

Before leaving Delhi, one of the habitually paranoid faculty members had informed us that the mules at Kedarnath were not shod, that the center portion of the path was so rough from years of use that in order to preserve their tender hooves the mules walked up the mountain just inches from the edge of a shear drop, and that you could not get a mules ride going down. Fortunately none of these stories was accurate. The mules were shod and they stayed very close to the inner wall of the 3 meter wide path up the mountain side. The Kedarnath climb has been thoroughly domesticated. And it is easy to rent mules for the descent.

After 3 hours I was too saddle sore to sit any longer. The 3 of us Americans dismounted and hiked the last 4 or 5 km to the top. We had to go very slowly because we had not adapted yet to the height. Sri Kedarnath is almost 3600m high. The view was glorious. Here we are high up in the Himalayas and these towering, thundering waterfalls are dropping 1000m to the valley below. Think of 10 football fields straight down. We are so high up: Where does all this water come from? It is easy to see how the Ganga story is so credible: all this water must come from the heavens and drop to Earth to purify it of sin.

We slowly walk into the town of Sri Kedarnath at 6PM. It is about 35 degrees Fahrenheit. That's a 55 degree drop in temperature in about 12 hours time. As we look for a hotel in the dim light of dusk I see a bunch of pundits standing around barefoot showing no visible signs of chill. We check into a very nice place about 100m from the Sri Kedarnath Mandir.

Wherever we go in India, checking in always involves the same incredulity on the part of the hotel staff.

"Do you have rooms?"

"How much for a room?"

"May we see a room?" So far everything is fine. But once we see the room and decide the place is acceptable, a game of cultural bumper cars takes place:

"We want 3 rooms."

"How many are you?"

"We have just 3 men."

"3 men? Then why do you want 3 rooms?"

"We each want our own room."

"But why?" In India friends and family sleep many to a bed. The sense of community demand is stronger or something. But the Indian cannot grok the need Westerners have for individuality and personal space. This scene repeats itself on every trip. Usually I don't know what to say, so I just keep demanding one room for each man until the hotel staff finally believes me. But this time after several repeats of the incredulous "Why do you want 3 rooms?!!?" I blurted out, "Because we're American! That's our custom!" Immediately the staffer relaxed and said, "Oh." We got our 3 rooms. No heat in the rooms but very clean.

The fresh air is so filled with prana, but it is thin and movements must be slow as our bodies are unaccustomed to operating at altitude. I feel sweaty from the climb and would really like a bath, but even wrapped in blankets my fatigued body is on the verge of hypothermia. Fortunately by next morning I've adjusted to the temperature and altitude. Bathing in just-above-freezing weather presents no problem. The Sri Kedarnath Mandir is set in front of a huge mountain. The mandir is notable for 2 Mahabharata events.

After the Battle of Kurukshetra, the Pandavas wanted to obtain forgiveness for killing so many people in the war. They seek out Shiva. Shiva eludes them for quite some time. They finally locate him high up in the mountains. But Shiva transforms himself into the form of a bull. The Pandavas are able to discern him anyway. Bhima, the strongest of the 5 brothers, attempted to catch hold of the Shiva bull. But the bull sank into the Earth until only the hump was still visible. Shiva then appeared to them in his divine form, exonerated the Pandavas of their sins, and told them to worship the hump (which had turned into rock) as a Shiva Linga. The Sri Kedarnath Shiva Linga is one of the 12 Jyotir Lingas.

The other story is that when the brothers were old and ready to pass away, they started hiking up the mountains towards heaven. The point where they left the physical world and began the climb in the celestial realms is behind the Sri Kedarnath Mandir.

My imagination goes wild with the concept of climbing terra firma in this space-time geometry and then shifting into another space-time geometry for the climb into the celestial. I was raised on Twilight Zone stories of people slipping through a portal between parallel universes. The celestial realms are the finest relative, but what is that in terms of superstring theory with its 10 dimensional construct super compactified into specific universes? I recall Dr. Doug Henning’s Fairfield talk in the Zimmerman Tennis Courts after the 1992 Natural Law Party Celebration. He tells of our solar system orbiting the galactic center; our galaxy hurtling out into space from the point of origin of the Big Bang; the local group of galaxies clustered together; all the galaxies and spatial phenomenon of our universe expanding infinitely outwards; the local group of universes; all the universes of the physical realms; above these universes the various Heavens, swargas; below these universes the various Hells, talas; the whole taken together is Haranya Garba, the Cosmic Egg. I wonder how this is described in quantum physics, alternate universes, and so on.

What did the Pandavas experience as they left this material realm and ascended into the celestial? Hard to imagine. The view in the Himalayas is already most celestial. The air is not the only thing that is thin; once again I am in a location where the veil between mundane and spiritual is very thin indeed. Behind Sri Kedarnath it does seem possible to climb the mountain and at the top of the peak keep climbing a stairway to heaven.

I am out of the hotel early the morning of the 4th. It is my 51st birthday. I go to the Sri Kedarnath Mandir. There are pandits outside doing Rudrabhishek. I sit quietly in lotus position for several hours. Around 10AM the purjari says, "Snow falling." I look up and see a snow avalanche descending on the near face of the mountain behind the Mandir. The mountain is many kilometers away and the avalanche presents no threat. The weather is crystal clear and I watch the thousands of tons of snow majestically cascade down the side of the mountain. Around 11AM the sky gets cloudy and the other 2 guys show up wondering if I brought my camera. I'm still too new at this thing to automatically bring it with me or to remember to catch that great shot.

Two days later in Haridwar we ascend the city's largest hill to view the Mansa Devi Mandir. Rusty had repeatedly requested shots of monkeys. I knew that monkeys would be up the hill and kept reminding myself to bring the camera on the drive over. As we descend the hill after having dharshan at the mandir, Rusty decides to throw some prasad at a monkey. He is used to feeding the pet dog at the college who patiently waits for his chapadis. Rusty attempts to meticulously untie the knot on the plastic bag containing the sweets, but he is too slow and the monkey ferociously launches himself at Rusty; Rusty reflexively pushes the prasad away from his body as the monkey smacks into the bag, tears it open strewing rock candy everywhere, then sits brooding over it just daring us to try to come near. When I saw what Rusty was doing, I intuitively knew what was going to happen and could have gotten a great blackmail shot of my buddy getting attacked by a monkey. But NOOooooo! I had again forgotten the camera.

After the Rudrabhishek, we catch lunch and head down the mountain. It is so much easier on the lungs going down than up, so we walk. Going down is easy on the muscles but murder on the knees. Of course sitting in padma asana for 4 hours before making a 5 hour climb down hill is really asking for it. By the time I reach Gaurikund at 5:30PM, I am managing to limp on both legs. A fairly difficult accomplishment, but the other 2 guys agree that's what I'm doing.

We spend the night in Som Prayag, then head to Rishikesh. Rishikesh is a spiritual tourist mecca. People from all over the world head there to catch a taste of the spiritual side of India. Beautiful, clean, huge ashrams are everywhere. Stalls are set up to sell Rudraksha, silks, cashmere, spiritual books, and more. Thousands of tourists check into the ashrams for a week of some meditation, then head back home to tell their friends they've been there, done that. We cross the fairly new Ram Jhula suspension bridge. About 20 minutes walk to the right brings you to the end of the paved walkways. Just beyond the hustle and bustle is the Maharishi Academy. Security is very tight and no one gets in without an invitation. But I just had to see the place.

We stay in a nice hotel. Next morning I get out the door at dawn, head to the point on the Ganga that is in front of the Maharishi Ashram. I take snan in the Ganga and then have one of the most glorious programs of my career as a meditator. I can see why people come to Rishikesh and the Himalayas to gain enlightenment.

After program we visit the stalls and contribute to the local economy, then drive to Hardwar. Or is it Haridwar? "Har" is Shiva and "Hari" is Vishnu; therefore the pronunciation of this name labels one as Shaivite or Vishnuite. Dwar means gate. Hardwar or Haridwar is the Gateway to Sri Kedarnath & Sri Badrinath, the holy shrines respectively of Har & Hari.

Hardwar is one of the four sites where the Kumbha Mela is held. These 4 sites mark the spot where the Amrita, nectar of immortality fell when the Devatas & Asuras struggled with the Kailash produced from the churning of the ocean of milk.

We are told that the Shri Anandamaya Ma Ashram is a nice, clean, inexpensive place to stay and find our way there. It is gorgeous. The people running this facility know us and we are permitted to rent rooms for the night. It is one of the nicest stays in India. Everything about the place is sattvic and well managed.

Across the way is the Daksha Mandir. This place is infamous in the Puranas and Vedas. Daksha wanted to perform the first yagya. He invited all the gods except his son-in-law Shiva. Shiva's wife, Sati wanted to attend. Shiva initially said, "No." He told her if she went, she would loose her life. But all the other deities were going and her Father held the event, she had to go. When she arrived, her Father did not acknowledge her existence. She cursed him for his insult to Shiva and immolated herself in the sacrificial fire. When Shiva heard about his wife's death he destroyed the place and many of the gods. He then took his wife's body on his back and in inconsolable sorrow walked the entire Earth many times. The other deities petitioned Vishnu to help remedy the intolerable sadness of Shiva. Vishnu walked behind Shiva and hacked off parts of Sati's body. These parts fell to Earth and became the 53 Shakti Peeths around India, Bangladesh, Pakistan & Nepal. When the last part fell, Shiva was released of the emotional & physical load he was carrying. Sati reincarnated as Himavan's daughter, Parvati. After intense tapas she won Shiva as her husband.

This Daksha Mandir is supposed to be the site of the original yagya and the huge conflagration that followed. There is even a Shiva Linga there that is hacked down almost to nothing that is supposed to have been mutilated in the original fight between Daksha's supporters and Shiva's.

Further up the road is a very interesting phenomenon. It is the Parad Shiva Linga. Param in Sanskrit means mercury and the transcendent. When mercury is chemically bound to a base metal, the amalgam is a dull looking solid that bears no resemblance to the mirror like beauty of liquid mercury. Some sage a few years ago figured out how to make a solid compound of mercury that shines with the same reflective qualities of liquid mercury. The secret apparently was never passed on. We saw the Linga. It shined and reflected like liquid mercury, but was a beautifully formed linga shape.

After the trip up the hill to Mansa Devi, the form of Shakti Durga who fulfills desires, we headed back to Delhi. We had a grand adventure. It is so very interesting to see places where all those interesting stories in the Veda and Vedic Literature took place. Now it's back to school. In less than a week the next class arrives and we start teaching again.