TRAVERSE 112
I discovered was something much deeper.
My introduction to Uttarakhand was through Rishikesh.
Perched on the banks of the Ganges River, the city has become famous internationally as a centre for yoga and spirituality. Yet that reputation only hints at its significance. For countless Hindu pilgrims, Rishikesh is the gateway to the Himalayas, the place where journeys toward Kedarnath, Badrinath, Gangotri and Yamunotri truly begin.
I arrived late in the afternoon and immediately headed towards the river.
The Ganges here bears little resemblance to the broad river many people imagine when they think of northern India. Fresh from the mountains, the water flowed somewhat clear, at least free from pollution, and fast, carrying the faintest emerald tint as it rushed between rocky banks.
As evening approached, people gathered along the ghats. Families sat on the stone steps. Pilgrims arrived carrying flowers and offerings. Monks in saffron robes moved quietly through the crowd. Then the aarti ceremony began. Brass lamps blazed against the darkness. Bells rang continuously. Chants drifted across the river while hundreds of people watched in reverent silence.
I had seen religious ceremonies in many countries before, but what struck me here was the sense of participation. Nobody was simply observing. The woman sitting beside me whispered prayers beneath her breath. Children copied the movements of their parents. Across the river, candles floated downstream like tiny stars.
For an hour I forgot entirely about motorcycles. I simply sat there watching the river and the people gathered around it.
The following morning, I woke before dawn and returned to the water. Mist hovered above the Ganges. The city remained largely asleep. A handful of pilgrims bathed in the icy current while others sat cross-legged on the riverbank facing the rising sun.
An elderly man noticed me watching and motioned for me to sit beside him.
We shared a cup of chai purchased from a nearby vendor while attempting a conversation that relied heavily on smiles and gestures.
He had travelled more than 1,000 kilometres to reach Rishikesh. Why? He shrugged and smiled. " My father came. His father came." That was explanation enough.
TRAVERSE 112