We drove to Solang Valley, where the Indian winter games are to be held. With this introduction, I got out of the car, only to be mobbed by people offering me a horse-ride to a place they called “Naya Amarnath”. I heard a chorus of voices describing how in one particular spot, the water drips down and freezes into ice in the shape of a Shiva Lingam. Apparently, the chorus piped in, at the beginning of the winter season, the Shiva Lingam was about two feet high, but as the winter progressed, the Shiva Lingam increased to a whopping six feet high, only to keep growing till at least the month of February or March. All of this was capped with a sales pitch as to how each one of their horses would be a better form of transportation to witness this divine miracle. Finally, I made a choice and was hoisted onto a soft, comfortable saddle of a mule. (Yes, I am almost positive it was mule and not a horse, but does it matter?)
Their description of ice forming into the shape of a Shiva Lingam made me think of the games we used to play as little kids, when one of us would give form to cloud shapes and make everyone else see it. I figured I may have to do just that- mentally see a Shiva Lingam and attribute it to the shape that I see in front of me.
I was expecting a rapid gallop to this site, much like what we see in those wild western movies. Instead, the horse-trainer led us on a gentle amble, while he walked in front of the horse. The terrain was rocky and a mildly steep incline.
As usual, I was looking around my surroundings, taking a good view and breathing lungs full of fresh clean air, not sure when my lungs would be treated to such pure air ever again. At one point, I looked directly behind me and saw a near full moon literally sitting atop a peak. My jaw dropped at its sight and my heart surely missed a beat- it was divinely beautiful. It reminded me of a time in the past when I was driving somewhere in Midwest USA, when I saw the full moon sitting at the other end of the highway. It appeared as if I would drive right into this large, white sphere if I made haste. This time, the sight of the moon sitting on top of a throne-like mountain peak gave it somehow a more regal appearance.
When we started our horse-ride, it was evening, but there was still considerable daylight. But soon, I realized that darkness descends quite rapidly in this part of this world. The existence of twilight is merely ephemeral, and one has to be quick to actually see it. So, when I finally reached the sight of the divine miracle, there was not much light- just barely enough for me discern the shape of a Shiva Lingam. There was not much in terms of substitutes for light- electric or otherwise- available on hand. But I was fairly impressed by the shape of the ice formation ahead of me- I didn’t have to stretch my imagination too much to see the Shiva Lingam.
The return path was quite well-lit by the moonlight. It was white, still and lovely. This was another one of those revelation moments, when I realized that all my life, I had been viewing this world with the aid of electric lights. The darkness was never complete true darkness as diffused light does flow into my presence. The luminosity of moonlight had always been overpowered by sodium vapour lamps or tube lights. But now, here, no such man-made intrusions existed and I was engulfed by the brilliance of moonlight. I was enchanted by it. I was experiencing nature at its pristine best in all of its splendor, and I was loving every moment of it. Thus ended another enchanting day full of rich experiences, and filled with wonder.
JAGATSUKH AND NAGGAR
A trip to Naggar castle was on the cards for the next day. It was a bright sunny day (what else could it be?), and quite warm as well. Naggar was the capital of the Kullu empire, for as long as it lasted. It was about thirty kilometers from Manali. The road, the driver assured me, was easier to navigate than the one that leads to the Rohthang Pass. So, we should reach there in quick time.
I came out of the lobby to find a Maruti Omni waiting for me, and I thought to myself, Why wouldn’t I ever get a four-wheel drive? The feeling of comfort, I am sure, was merely psychological as the drivers were incredibly skilful. Still, it’s a good feeling to sit in one of those monstrous SUVs. But I took what was offered to me and sat meekly and allowed myself to be shepherded to my next destination. The driver sped through the narrow, winding slopes. My face was glued to the window pane admiring the scenery unfolding in front of my eyes.
We came out of the valley that ensconced the town of Manali. I looked back and realized why Manali was a great choice as a retreat destination- it was well protected by tall mountains on all sides from nature’s wrecking forces, such as harsh winds. Once outside, we were exposed to heavy gusts of cold winds. And my driver mentioned that the wind was milder on that day than the days prior to that. It didn’t make me feel any better then.
Our first stop was at the Gaurishankar Temple and Gayatri Devi Temple in the town of Jagatsukh. I gleaned from the priestess that the temple was originally set up by the Pandavas during their thirteen year exile. But “the mountains fell on the temples and destroyed them later”, was roughly how I interpreted her words. Around the eighth or the ninth century AD, somebody collected the idols that survived the destruction and rebuilt the temples. And it has stood ever since.
After spending some few devotional moments (as much as I could muster up, which wasn’t any actually) at the two temples, we moved onto Naggar castle. As I got off the car, I was struck by how small and unassuming the castle was. The castle was also relatively unprotected. No moats, no elaborate sentry posts, no guard shacks, nothing. It seemed like one big building with many courtyards inside. As I explored further inside, I noticed that the castle didn’t have many queens’ palaces, as I am usually used to seeing. This was the castle from where the Kullu royalty ruled the entire kingdom. I figured these kings were monogamous simpletons- which was against any kind of notions I had regarding royalty in general. But I also thought that I wasn’t seeing the entire picture, and there must be something else that I was missing. But the lack of security measures was something that made me very curious.
My curiosity regarding the security issue was satisfied for the large part when I stepped into one of the courtyards. The castle was built on the edge of a cliff, almost atop a mountain, from where one could see the entire sprawling valley below. The view of the valley was so panaromic and so good that if I strained my eyes enough, I could actually follow the activities of the individual villagers below. Two loyal vigilant sentries could easily protect the entire castle by spotting any untoward activity occurring below. I couldn’t help think that this was some excellent strategic location.
The castle housed a temple inside that was deemed to be the most powerful of them all. One of the plaques stated that whenever there was any big trouble brewing on heaven or earth, all the Gods assembled here in this very temple to hold discussions and plan courses of actions. Once again, the small and unassuming nature of a temple that was supposed to be so powerful took me by surprise. The Gods must really believe in simplicity, I mused.
My curiosity towards the security issue was still not completely satisfied. I looked around and found that the castle was not at the top of the mountain but only almost. So, what if there was a stealthy attack from the other side? I wondered. There was no way the kingdom could watch on that side too, I thought. I figured that the inhabitants of the village above the castle must have been intensely loyal to the kingdom. Lots of such questions were running through my mind, and I was hoping to find answers to all of them sometime soon.
Exactly across from the castle, intense plumes of smoke were rising from the face of the mountain. The smoke must be the result of a forest fire there. When I looked at simply the smoke, it appeared like puffs of clouds. I recalled a children’s comic story about this old woman who sits on the top of a high mountain and “weaves these puffs of cotton” we call clouds. Instinctively, I pulled out my monocular and surveyed that area from where the smoke was billowing. I think I saw some flickering flames but no old woman. I realized my own stupidity, laughed at my own naiveté and moved on.
I spoke to the driver and some locals, and they confirmed that this was largely a peaceful area, not having seen any major warfare or heavy bloodshed for a long period of time. In fact, one local averred to me that this is one of the main reasons why Manali is one of the main tourist areas preferred over Srinagar in Kashmir, even though Srinagar has a lot more to offer. War, civil unrest, curfew, all make Srinagar a less attractive destination- especially these days- for the “stressed out, urban” tourists who wish to relax on their vacation. How do you know so much about Srinagar? I couldn’t help asking him. I am from there, he replied. My whole childhood was spent there amidst bombings, communal violence, terrorist activities, general fear of public. Even during Chinese aggression, he went on, nobody here knew of any bloodshed. Now I got suspicious of him. He didn’t look old enough to have experienced the Chinese aggression of 1962. (Heck! Even I am not old enough for that). Besides, he mentioned he was from Srinagar. So his statement must have been hear-say, and had to be taken with a grain of salt. But the spirit of the statement rang true. People did seem generally friendly, and not paranoid and suspicious as, say a New Yorker. The general behaviour of a community is a reflection of events of the past. And using that as a measure, I could tell this community hasn’t seen much war and bloodshed.
Real Travel Adventures 