It’s no secret: Indians don’t need a reason to celebrate. Whether it is taking a holy dip in the Ganges or dancing in the Himalayas, we simply love to let our hair down. And the fact that we have so many cultures and religions co-existing makes India an even merrier place to live in.Below is the lists out some of the best-known festivals and fairs that are to be held through 2010 in India.

JANUARY
The Kumbh Mela (Haridwar, Uttarakhand)
January 14 to April 28
Perhaps the largest religious (or otherwise) gathering in the world, the Kumbh Mela is a festival that is most revered of all festivities in India. Sages and pilgrims from across the country gather at Haridwar and take a holy dip in the Ganges to wash away their sins. The Mela consists of many ’snans’ or holy dips, the first of which happened on January 14 and the fair is currently underway.Even as it is one of the most pious of all the festivals, the concept of the Kumbh Mela has become something of a joke in pop culture thanks to Bollywood movie characters who often refer to it (with tongues firmly in their cheek) as the place where they lost their sibling.

Republic Day (New Delhi)
January 26
A colourful, military parade and floats from each state move down Rajpath, New Delhi, and daredevil fly past, attended by the President and prime minister marks the celebration of India’s statehood every year on January 26. Officially, the festivity ends on January 29, with the Beating of the Retreat.

Art, culture and desert festival

Jaipur Literary Festival (Jaipur, Rajasthan)
January 21-January 25
It’s where the best-known minds of contemporary literature meet and debate. Sure you may argue that the debates don’t lead anywhere but hey imagine bumping into Salman Rushdie over lunch or VS Naipaul over tea! Not such a bad way to start the year, is it?

Hampi Festival (Hampi, Karnataka)
January 27-January 29
Built on the banks of the river Tungabhadra, Hampi was the capital city of the Vijayanagar Empire and is listed as one of the UNESCO World Heritage Sites.The festival of Hampi with dance, music, fireworks and processions hopes to recreate the splendour of city against its ruins. Usually the festival is held in November but this year is the 500th anniversary of the coronation of the much-revered king of the Vijaynagar Empire, Krishna Devaraya (1509 to 1529), and hence the January festivities.

Desert Festival (Jaisalmer)
January 28-January 30
Colourful bazaars, camel races, traditional puppet shows, fire dance and folk music and dance programmes, the desert definitely doesn’t get more interesting in India than this.Some of the highlights of this competition include turban tying contests, the sound and light show and folk artists performing against the sand dunes in Sam.

FEBRUARY: Surajkund Mela, Khajuraho fest and more
Surajkund Crafts Mela (Haryana)
February 1-February 15
The popular mela or fair is a platform for folk artistes and artisans from across the country to display their talent. A shopper’s paradise, the Surajkund Crafts Mela has a state for a theme each year. This year will be Rajasthan’s turn. With the growing the number of states in India, the mela sure won’t run out of states to feature.

Khajuraho Dance Festival (Khajuraho, Madhya Pradesh)
1 February – February 7
Home to India’s most erotic sculptures, the Khajuraho temple grounds play host to an exhilarating Festival of Dances each year.The festival is hosted by the Madhya Pradesh State Tourism Development Corporation and showcases the most prominent exponents of various Indian classical dances.

Mahashivratri (Across India)
February 12, 2010
It is supposed to be the night Lord Shiva danced his frenzied tandava or celestial dance of destruction. On this day Shiva temples across the country are crowded as devotees flock for the blessings of the deity. If you’re in Mumbai and are adventurous enough you could try and visit the Babulnath Temple in South Mumbai. The Mahakaleswar Temple at Ujjain also sees a special celebration as does Mandi in Himachal Pradesh.

A carnival and cultural festival
Goa Carnival (Panaji, Goa)
February 13-February 16
It’s officially the last day of festivity and celebrations before Lent. The Goa Carnival is held in Panaji, the capital of Goa. Fancy dress balls, floats, parades and a frenetic round of dancing, drinking and feasting mark the celebrations as highlight of the festivities ‘King Momo’ the officially appointed festival ruler parades through the city streets.

Taj Mahotsav (Agra, Uttar Pradesh)
February 18-February 27
The festival is organised at Shilpigram, which is close to the Taj Mahal. It’s where some 400-odd artisans display their art. Taj Mahotsav also has a lot of cultural festivities where performers from across the country display their folk and classical art forms. With the Taj Mahal as the backdrop, surely nothing could be better, could it?

MARCH: Welcoming spring
Holi (Across India)
March 1
Holi the festival of colours is celebrated across the India with a few variations here and there. But if there is a place to be in India during Holi it is the village of Barsana near Mathura in Uttar Pradesh.Barsana hosts something called the Lath mar Holi where women beat up men with sticks. Of course the men protect themselves with shields. But it’s a sight to watch sari-clad women having the time of their lives in this rather amusing ritual. After all no one’s going to sue you if you miss a stroke.

Nauchandi Mela (Meerut, Uttar Pradesh)
A classic example of religious tolerance is the Nauchandi Mela, a festival that is held near the Hindu Nauchandi temple and the Muslim shrine of Bala Mian.Legend has it that the month-long fair that starts soon after Holi, first started as a one-day trade fair for cattle traders back in 1627. Since then it has been each year growing in stature except in 1858 when the city saw the revolt against the East India Company.

Gudi Padwa (All over Maharashtra)
March 16
The New Year’s Day in the Marathi calendar, Gudi Padwa is supposed to mark the beginning of spring. Maharashtrians consider this day as one of the three and a half most auspicious days when every moment is favourable to start a new activity.It is celebrated throughout Maharashtra with families decorating a stick with a bright coloured cloth and a pot turned upside down resting on the top of the stick. The traditional Gudi Padwa meal is shrikand (a sweet dish made of yogurt) and puri.

Royal splendour
Gangaur Festival (Rajasthan)
March 18 to March 19
Celebrated in the honour of the goddess of abundance, the Gangaur festival is when young girls pray for a spouse of their choice. The festivities include a procession being taken to the closest water body with the women carrying images of the goddess on their heads.The places to be (and to see pretty Indian girls dressed in their traditional best) include Bikaner, Jodhpur, Nathdwara and Jaisalmer. And just in case you’re wondering what happens to these girls when they get married, well they simply pray for their husbands!

Elephant Festival (Jaipur)
March 24
Should pretty much tell you what it is and where, shouldn’t it? Processions of elephants decorated and groomed before a stunned audience displaying the splendour of the royal state of Rajasthan. Not to be missed also are the elephant polo matches and the elephant races.

APRIL: Celebrating new beginnings
Easter (Across India)
April 4
Although Easter is celebrated all over the country, Goa is considered to be one of the most popular Easter holiday destinations in India. Expect lots of celebrations in this former Portuguese colony with song, dance and carnivals.

Baisakhi (Punjab)
April 14
It is a festival that marks the solar new year and the sowing of the new crop for most communities in India. The date varies from state to state. Baishakhi falls on April 14 in Punjab and is the Punjabi New Year and the start of the harvest of wheat in the state. The traditional Punjabi dance, Bhangra that is performed on this day all over Punjab is the harvest dance of the state.

Nobo Borsho / Boishakh (West Bengal)
April 14
Nobo Borsho or the New Year is the beginning of the New Year for Bengalis. The month that follows is called Boishakh, an auspicious time for marriages.It is also perhaps the best time to visit Kolkata because there are tons of fairs being held in and around the city. Of these, the most popular is the Bangla Sangit Mela a music festival that is conducted by the state government.The thing to do is to get yourself invited to a wedding. That shouldn’t be much of a hassle since we Indians are so warm to begin with. Or else you could simply gatecrash into one of them.

Vishu (Kerala)
April 14
This is supposed to mark the first day of the Malayalam year and is also the harvest festival of Kerala. North Kerala traditionally has seen more fireworks and celebrations than the rest of the state. However it’s always great to be in a place of festivities in any part of the world, isn’t it?

Bohag or Rangoli Bihu (Assam)
Mid-April
This festival marks the new year, beginning of Spring and is also an agricultural festival of Assam. Cattle is worshipped and festivities include paying homage to elders and having meals consisting of Chira, curds and sweets.Bohag Bihu is one of the three Bihus that celebrate the three seasons — spring, summer and winter.

Chitra Festival (Madurai Temple, Tamil Nadu)
From April 14
Chitra Festival at the Madurai Temple commences on April 14. A showy festival that lasts for nearly a fortnight, it begins on the Tamil New Year. Chitra celebrates the marriage of Meenakshi to Shiv and brims with pomp. Festivities include a spate of dramas depicting Meenakshi’s life history.On the eighth day a procession of elephants and chariots transport the nuptial pair through the town streets and to the banks of the Vagai River to meet Meenakshi’s brother Lord Kallalagar (an avatar of Vishnu) who is transported there from his hilltop abode at Algarkovil, outside Madurai. This ceremonious meeting — the logistics of which are mind-boggling — has more than its usual quotient of Indian-style pandemonium.

MAY: Festival of flowers
Sikkim Flower Festival (Sikkim)
Held near White Hall, the governor’s residence in Gangtok, the flower show displays some of Sikkim’s famous orchids, gladioli, roses, alpine plants, ferns, rhododendrons etc. A food festival, river rafting and Yak safaris are other attractions at the festival.

Moatsu Mong (Nagaland)
First week of May
North-East India Tours is arguably the most untouched part of the country. Rituals of the seven sister states are unknown to most Indians.Moatsu Mong provides a great opportunity to give you a glimpse into an aspect of the culture — that of Nagaland. The Sping festival usually falls in May and goes on for over six days. Folk dances, songs, tribal chants and indigenous games are all part of this festival — a must-see for all city-bred folks who think their city limits are the end of the world.

Ooty Summer Festival (Ooty, Tamil Nadu)
May
Pretty much like most other summer festivals, the Ooty version has the regular cultural programmes that include fashion shows, flower arrangement exhibitions, boat races and the works. Visit the Botanical Gardens for the spectacular flower show.
Critics of the hill station will probably tell you that the place is getting to be crazily crowded. But hey, tell us a city that isn’t!

Buddha Purnima (Bodh Gaya, Bihar)
May 27
Bodha Gaya is the place where Buddha attained Nirvana. It is a prominent Buddhist tourist spot and is the most sacred of the four Buddhist pilgrimage sites in the country — the other three include Sarnath (Uttar Pradesh), Sanchi (Madhya Pradesh) and Ajanta (Maharashtra).

JUNE: Celebrating the Ganga
Badrinath-Kedar Festival
This is an important music festival. The location of the festival in the snowy Himalayan towns of Badrinath and Kedarnath makes the event quite memorable.

Ganga Dusshera (Varanasi and Haridwar)
June 11
Glenn Beck might’ve called Ganga a disease. Sure the river’s been polluted quite a bit but the Ganges will always remain India’s most favourite river. Celebrating it’s descent and presence on earth, folks in Varanasi, Haridwar, Prayag, Rishikesh etc celebrate the Ganga Dusshera along the river’s banks. For ten days there are celebrations, pujas and aartis performed as a mark of respect for the holy river. How’s that for a disease, Beck?

Shimla Summer Festival (Shimla, Himachal Pradesh)
Early June
A time for celebrations and cheer in what used to be the summer capital of India during the days of the Raj. The Shimla festival has something to offer for everyone. Popular singers and local artistes rub shoulders here and fashion shows, flower display and film festivals are organised for entertainment.

Sindhu Darshan Festival (Leh-Ladakh, Jammu)
Early June
The festival celebrates one of the world’s longest rivers — the Sindhu. Expect some breathtaking cultural festivities that aim to promote peace, harmony and are a celebration of the country called India. As a symbolic gesture performing troupes from across the country carry waters from the other rivers in pots and immerse them in the Sindhu.

Hemis Festival, (Ladakh, Jammu & Kashmir)
June 20
Held in the Hemis Monastery in Ladakh, the Festival is celebrated to commemorate the birth anniversary of Guru Padmasambhava, founder of Tibetan Buddhism. Expect dances, plays and music from drums, cymbals and long horns. For the compulsive shoppers there some exquisite handicraft from the region for sale.

JULY: Puri’s Chariot Festival and more
Mango Festival (New Delhi)
It’s a dream come true most kids (and many adults too). With over 500 varieties of mangoes on display New Delhi is a paradise for mango lovers. Expect some lip-smacking competitions and some killer mango products at this festival that is held in the capital in July every year since 1987 and is jointly organised by the Delhi Tourism and Transportation Development Corporation, the Agricultural and Processed Food Products Export Development Authority, the National Horticultural Board and the NDMC.

Splash 2010 (Wayanad, Kerala)
First week of July
The Wayanad Tourism Organisation or WTO as they like to call themselves organise a carnival in the Wayanad district of Kerala to promote the area as a tourist destination around the time when the heavens open up.Apart from the usual song-n-dance festivities by local artistes, you could also try out their adventure sports that include ‘mud football’, a marathon, a slow cycle race and tons of other fun stuff.

Jagannath Yatra (Puri, Orissa)
July 13 onwards
This is the famous chariot festival of Puri, Orissa. A procession of chariots bearing the presiding deities of the main temple — Lord Jagannath, Balabhadra and Subhadra are pulled by hordes of devotees to their ’summer cottage’ the Gundicha temple, one mile away over a period of 24 hours.The word juggernaut in the English language gets its meaning from this festival. Music, elephants, royalty, plenty of colour and organised anarchy are a sideshow to this unmissable event which is repeated nine days later when the Jagannath family returns home from their vacation.Legend has it that the journey of the Jagannath trio symbolises or mimics Krishna’s journey — Jagannath is an avatar or reincarnation of Vishnu, as is Krishna — from Gokul to Mathura to kill his wickedly powerful uncle, King Kans. Areas of Bengal and Bihar also celebrate their own home grown version of the festival.

AUGUST: The battle of the snakeboats and more
Teej (Jaipur, Rajasthan)
August 12-August 13
One of the many colourful festivals of Rajasthan, Teej is celebrated in honour of the reunion of Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati after a penance of a hundred years. On this day, women dress up and pray for their husband’s health and longevity. It also celebrates the rains, which are always welcome in this dry state.The markets of Jaipur are where you should be heading on this day, to buy clothes and sweets specially made for the occasion as also to witness the processions across the city.

Independence Day (Delhi)
August 15
The day when India awoke to ‘life and freedom’ in 1947 is celebrated throughout the nation with flag-hoisting ceremonies being held all over. On this day the Prime Minister addresses the nation through a televised speech from the ramparts of the Red Fort in Delhi.

Onam and Nehru Trophy Boat Race (Alleppey, Kerala)
August 14 August 23
Onam is the harvest festival of Kerala that celebrates the homecoming of the legendary King Mahabali. Celebrated over 10 days the festivities include folk dance performances, elephant procession and snake boat race.The Nehru Trophy Boat Race on the Punnamda Lake, near Alappuzha, held on the second Saturday of August every year, is the most competitive and popular of the boat races. On the day of this fiercely-fought boat race, the tranquil lake front is transformed into a sea of humanity with an estimated 200,000 people, many of them tourists, who come to watch the event. For the people of each village in Kuttanad, a victory at this race for their village boat is something to be celebrated for months to come.

Parsi New Year (Mumbai)
August 19
Although the Parsi New Year is celebrated in various pockets across the country, it is mainly in Mumbai that you can truly experience the celebrations since a good part of the community has made the city their home.On this day Parsis visit the Fire Temple to offer prayers, which is followed by bhonu or lunch. Traditionally, families also go to watch a Gujarati play in the evening that is put up only for this one day. Usually farcical comedies with tonnes of innuendos the plays are surprisingly watched by almost the entire family.Entry to Fire Temples in India is restricted only to Parsis though you could watch the play if you really want to be part of the celebrations or simply head to a Parsi eatery in South Mumbai.

Raksha Bandhan
August 24
This is the day when a sister ties a decorated thread on the wrist of her brother who promises to protect her in return. A fairly private ceremony, celebrated in homes rather than in public, it provides a good excuse for all cousins and their parents to get together.

SEPTEMBER: Holy month of fasting and feasting
Janmashtami (Across India)
September 2
Janmashtami is celebrated across the country to mark the birth of Lord Krishna. While in the cities of Mathura and Vrindavan see some enchanting performances of the Ras Leela or the Dance of Divine Love, Maharashtra celebrates it by breaking the dahi handi or the earthen pot filled with curd and butter. The pot is tied several feet above the ground and young boys (sometimes girls too) form a human pyramid and reach up to it to claim the prize money.

Id-ul-Fitr or Ramzan (Across India)
August 11 to September 9
The holy month of Ramzan is the ninth month in the Islamic calendar. It is when the followers of Islam refrain from eating or drinking anything from dawn till sunset. After the sun goes down though, the festivities begin with some lip smacking delicacies being made at traditional Islamic eateries. The most delicious food, however, is served on the streets lining the local mosques and shrines like Chandni Chowk-Jama Masjid area in Delhi and Mohammed Ali road in Mumbai.

Ladakh Festival (Leh Ladakh)
September 1-15
Various performing troupes from across Ladakh come together for an annual performance and celebrations. The procession passes through the Leh market and finishes at the polo ground. What follows are 15 days of festivities, mask dances and archery and polo competitions.

Ganpati Bappa Morya!
Ganesh Chaturthi (Across Maharashtra)
September 11
Celebrated in honour of Lord Ganesha, the festival gained importance during India’s freedom struggle when the Bal Gangadhar Tilak used it as a cover for rebels’ meeting. The festival, which begins with the bringing of clay images of the deity ends with the immersion on the tenth day. However certain households and public Ganesha idols are immersed on the second, fifth and the seventh days too. Pune and Mumbai are considered to be the hubs of this festival and you can expect a lot of traffic jams during this period.

Tarnetar Mela (Tarnetar near Rajkot, Gujarat)
September 11 to September 13
It might be a quiet hamlet for most part of the year. But come September and Tarnetar in Gujarat turns busy as a beehive. The mela is held in honour of Lord Shiva at the Trineteshwar Mahadev temple.
According to the Mahabharat, Arjuna performed the Matsyavedha (an archery feat) during Draupadi’s swayamvara at this temple. Ever since, Tarnetar has been known for its swayamvara, where a girl has the right to choose her life partner. This tradition continues in the Bharwad community. Folk music and dances, a large number of stalls selling local handicrafts, magic shows, joy rides and camel rides are the other attractions at the fair.

OCTOBER: Urs, Commonwealth Games and Durga Puja
Urs Ajmer Sharif (Ajmer, Rajasthan)
October 1-October 6
Celebrated in honour of the Sufi saint, Khwaja Moinuddin Chishti, the Ajmer Sharif shrine sees a lot of celebrations where devotees of different faiths come here from far and wide to pay their respects and listen to divine quwwalis and sufi songs sans the techno beats in the night. Shoppers keep an eye open for local woven and block printed fabrics!

Gandhi Jayanti (Across India)
October 2
Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi was born on October 2 in Porbunder, Gujarat on this day. Gandhi Jayanti is celebrated with commemorative events in the memory of the Father of the Nation.

Commonwealth Games (New Delhi)
October 3 to October 14
The 19th Commonwealth Games will be held in the nation’s capital and will be the largest multi-sport event to be held in the country. The ceremony will take place at the Jawaharlal Nehru Stadium.

Durga Puja (West Bengal and parts of Bihar)
October 8-October 16
In Bengal and parts of Bihar, the nine days leading upto Dasshera are devoted to the worship of Durga, an avatar of Parvati, Shiva’s consort. The festival rejoices her victory over the buffalo-headed demon, Mahishasura, after a nine-day battle.Every street corner or tiny village puts up its own clay image of Durga riding a tiger. It is the most important festival of Bengal with much feasting and merriment. The beautiful pandals put up in every neighbourhood of Kolkata are famous. The festival reaches its high point in Kolkata on the tenth day when the images are taken to the Hooghly River for immersion.

The festival of nine nights!
Navratri (Gujarat and Mumbai)
October 8-October 16
In Gujarat and among Gujaratis in Mumbai, this is the festival of nights.It is celebrated during the nine days preceding Dasshera and is the occasion for folk dances or dandiya raas or garba dances.There are many variations of these dances, and today many are done in accompaniment to Hindi film music and laser images. Navratri honours the goddess of strength, Amba among other goddesses. This festival is celebrated in south India, as well, with puja and fasting and night vigil. It lasts for nine days during which pujas devoted to the goddesses of strength, wealth and knowledge are conducted.

Dusshera (Across India, especially Delhi and Mysore)
October 17
Vijay Dashmi or the 10th day of Dusshera is a day of rejoicing the victory of good over evil, when Rama, hero of the mythological epic Ramayana, defeated and killed the demon king Ravana with the aid of the monkey king, Hanuman. It is celebrated by burning paper and wood statues of Ravan. Don’t miss the Ram Leela performances — plays depicting the life of Rama, in Delhi and Varanasi.The Mysore Dusshera is held in the Mysore Palace Grounds. Musicians perform on the grounds and the palace is thrown open to the public. A special fireworks extravaganza, also the highlight of the evening, follows.
At the one-week Kullu Dusshera fair, celebrations include a rath yatra and folk music and dance performances.

Bharat Milap (Varanasi, Uttar Pradesh)
October/November
It is supposed to be the day when Lord Rama was reunited with his brother Bharata after 14 years of exile in the Hindu epic Ramayana.The festivities attract a lot of devotees from all over India with the star attraction being the local maharaja participating in full costume riding an elephant!

NOVEMBER: Festival of lights and more
Dhanteras
November 3
In North India, two days before Diwali, it is obligatory to buy gold. Bazaars everywhere are crammed with exotic jewellery even as the prices of gold hit an all-time high.

Diwali
November 5
Diwali or Deepavali signifies deepa or lights and avali or row and hence a ‘row of lights’.It is an extravagant and lavish pageant of lights and firecrackers, worth fitting into a travel itinerary, especially if one is in Rajasthan, Delhi or Gujarat. Every home is lit up with oil lamps, in the manner that Ayodhya was lit up for the return of Lord Ram.Lakshmi puja (worship of goddess of wealth and consort of Lord Vishnu), feasting, gambling and decorating the home with rangoli, is the order of the day.In South India Diwali is a celebration of the death of demon Narakasura by Lord Krishna. Mythological demon-king Narakasura had managed to wangle out of Brahma and Shiva because of the boons he received and had grown powerfully evil. The devas or the gods requested Lord Krishna to annihilate him, which he did at Dwarka.

New Year
November 7
For the business community in northern and western India, the Hindu new year starts the day after Diwali. A special puja is performed in offices across the country and financial records begin anew on this day.

Bhaiduj
November 7
It is another festival for brothers and sisters marked by exchange of sweets and gifts.

Maha Kanda Shasti Utsavam (Across Tamil Nadu)
This festival is celebrated in the six temples or abodes of Lord Murugan — Tiruchendur (temple near Thirunelveli), Thirupparankunram (temple near Madurai), Palani hill temple (Dindigal district), Swami Malai (near Kumbakonam), Thiruthanigai (near Chennai) and Pazhamudhir Solai (near Madurai). Lengthy bouts of bursting fire-crackers, feasting, dances make this one of the largest festivals in this southern state.

Chhat Puja (Across Bihar)
November 11
This holiday is one of the biggest in the state of Bihar, and is a festival for married women. It entails worship of the sun and is also called Surya Puja. Women gather before dawn and wade waist deep in rivers across Bihar, with sweets, grain, fruit and puja paraphernalia like incense and holy water, to fete the sun. The process is repeated again in the evening. Over the years, the Chhat festivities have extended to pockets of the country, which have strong Bihari population such as Mumbai.

A cultural extravaganza!
Pushkar Camel Fair (Pushkar, Rajasthan)
November 13 to November 21
Held in Rajasthan, Pushkar is India’s most famous camel fair and coincides with Kartik Purnima or a special full moon. Thousands congregate for this colourful mela, traders and tourists alike. It is an occasion for much singing and dancing, folk style. Camel races, handicraft bazaars, fireworks are the order of the day. Special tent facilities are provided for tourists.

Children’s Day
November 14
The birth anniversary of Jawaharlal Nehru and India’s first prime minister is celebrated across the country’s schools because of his love for children. In New Delhi, there is a special fair for children at the India Gate and programmes are organised at the Dolls Museum, Bal Bhavan and at Teen Murti Bhavan, Nehru’s home.

Garhwal Festival (Uttarkashi, Uttarakhand)
Mid-November
It is a cultural affair that toasts the culture of the Garhwal hill people, held at Uttarkashi. Celebrate with these simple people living in the lap of the Himalayas as they sing and dance their blues away.

Lucknow Festival (Lucknow, Uttar Pradesh)
Late November
A fortnight of cultural events, food festivals and handicraft bazaars that highlight the splendour of Lucknow, this festival is organised by Uttar Pradesh Tourism. Also witness and participate in traditional village games, kite flying, cock-fighting matches through the fortnight.

Ganga Mahotsav, Guru Nanak Jayanti and more
Ganga Mahotsav (Benaras, Uttar Pradesh)
November 17-November 21
This is a time for festivity along the banks of the Ganga in Banaras or Varanasi, the city said to be ‘perched on the edge of time’. While it continues to be an auspicious festival, the Ganga Mahotsav is a great symbol of cultural melting pot with people from various classes, castes, religions and nationalities come together to worship the Ganges.The high point of the festival are the evenings when earthen lamps on lotus leaves are set afloat on the river.

Guru Nanak Jayanti
November 21
This is the biggest day for the Sikh community in India. On this day saint Guru Nanak was born. The festival is celebrated by taking out processions and prayer readings from the sacred granth or holy book. Amritsar is a special place to be on this day.

Sikkimese New Year (Sikkim)
Late November-Early December
Celebrating end of the harvest season, the Sikkimese New Year or Losoong begins each year in the tenth month of the Tibetan calendar. Religious festivities, exuberant celebrations and dances with people dressed as gods are part of the celebrations.
Places to be in Sikkim during this time of the year include the monasteries at Tsuklakhang Palace, Phodong and Rumtek Monastery.

Sonepur Mela (Sonepur, Bihar)
November
This is the world’s largest cattle fair. Sonepur, a town located at the confluence of the Gandak and Ganga rivers in Bihar comes alive during this festival, which is timed to coincide with Kartik Purnima or a special full moon. Thousands — pilgrims, traders and tourists — converge for the trade of cattle and grain and to witness the drama, music, contests, shows and to shop.Mythology has it that Sonepur was the historical location of a war between the king of the jungle and the king of the waters — the elephant and the crocodile. Elephants too are still traded at the fair. For the devout and the non-materialistic, bathing on Kartik Purnima in the river and puja at Hariharnath temple is routine.

Cultural fest at Qutub Minar…
Chandrabhaga Fair (Jhalawar, Rajasthan)
Late November
This fair is a special event in the town of Jhalawar in Rajasthan. Celebrations involve bathing by the devout at full moon or Kartika Purnima in the Chandrabhaga River and puja at the many beautiful ancient temples that line the river.

Guru Tegh Bahadur’s Martyrdom Day (Amritsar, Punjab)
November 24
On this day in 1675, Mughal Emperor Aurangzeb killed the Sikh leader in Chandni Chowk after he refused to convert to Islam. A religious procession is taken out in Amritsar, the city of Golden Temple along with the Guru Granth Sahib (the holy scripture of the Sikhs) in a golden palanquin.

Annual Winter Sports (Kufri, Himachal Pradesh)
November
Despite its largely tropical climate, India has much to offer thanks to its geographical diversity. Head to Kufri in Himachal Pradesh this November to get a taste of winter adventure sports in India. Kufri, which is quite close to Shimla, has a wide range of slopes for beginners, intermediate and advanced skiers.

Qutab festival (Delhi)
November/December
The three-day Qutab Festival is organised by Delhi Tourism in order to ‘preserve and present the rich tradition of Indian music, contemporary as well as classical’. Some of the best names from the Indian dance and music fraternity gather here to perform with the Qutub Minar as the backdrop.

DECEMBER: Dancing and feasting
Konark Festival (Konark, Orissa)
December 1-December 5
This is the place to be if you’re a fan of Indian performing arts. Artistes from across the world practicing Odissi, Bharatnatyam, Kuchipudi, Kathak and a host of other classical and folk dances perform at the Sun Temple at Konark each year. This year happens to be the 25th anniversary of the festival. So you can sure expect some fireworks.

Hanukkah (Cochin, Kerala)
December 1-December 9
India’s meagre population of Jews celebrates this festival of lights, which commemorates the purification of the Temple in 165 BC. The tiny declining locality of Jew Town in Cochin, Kerala has perhaps the most atmospheric celebrations of this feast in India.

Feast of St Francis Xavier (Old Goa)
December 3
The feast commemorates the death of St. Francis Xavier, patron saint of Goa. According to legend, after he died the body of this Spanish Jesuit missionary was brought back to India and was found as fresh as the day he was buried. It was then kept in a silver casket in the Basilica of Bom Jesus Church in Old Goa. The feast attracts thousands of Christians across the country and the otherwise quiet old town springs to life.

Camels on ramp, Xmas and New Year celebrations
Bikaner Festival (Bikaner, Rajasthan)
Late December/Early January
A stunning procession of camels walks past the imposing Junagarh Fort. This is followed by camel races and various other competitions involving the ship of the desert. The town also houses the Karni Mata Temple where holy rats are worshipped and on the outskirts is a camel breeding farm. The dates of the festival vary each year. So even though the last festival was held on December 30 and 31, the next one will be held sometime in January 2011.

Kagyat Dance Festival
This is a Sikkimese festival where the major players are the monks who perform dances. Each dance is a skit from Buddhist mythology accompanied by ritual chanting and music. On this day evil spirits are exorcised by burning effigies made from wood, flour or paper.

Christmas
December 25
Churches are decked and nativity scenes are set up at street corners in some cities. While Midnight Mass services are rare because of court orders, Goa, Kerala, Chennai and parts Mumbai and Kolkata as well as the Christian areas of Meghalaya, Mizoram and Nagaland are places where major festivity takes place.

New Year’s Eve
December 31
The big cities of India celebrate New Year’s Eve with verve. The Gateway of India in Mumbai, Park Street in Kolkata, and many parts of Goa are the scene of much merriment.

Nicholas Clinch sends this book review for your perusal.  Please feel free to add your comments! (This book is currently on order and will be available in the library soon!)

Himalayan Playground: Adventures on The Roof of the World, 1942-72.  Trevor Braham.  Glasgow, In Pinn Press, 2008.  107 pages, colored plates.  Softcover.  $20.00

A former editor of the Himalayan Journal and the Swiss Chronique Himalayenne, Trevor Braham’s knowledge of the Himalaya is unsurpassed.  Moreover, for over half a lifetime, he has traveled, climbed and explored those mountains from Chitral to Sikkim.  He related his adventures in 1974 in his book Himalayan Odyssey.  Although most of the stories in Himalayan Playground have been covered in his previous book, it is an augmentation and not just a duplication of the earlier work.

It is fascinating to read the two books side by side.  Himalayan Odyssey is a like a slide lecture, an accurate narrative of fresh events.  Himalayan Playground is a story told before a fire with a glass of wine; while accurate, it conveys a feeling of bygone days.  The tale is mellowed by the passing of years and the gaining of a greater perspective.  Braham’s descriptions reflect what it was like to go into those mountain regions at that time, the challenges of the terrain, the weather, and the relationship with the local people.  The book invokes memories in those who also have been there at that time. To others, it provides an insight about what it was like to go wandering in the Himalaya “in those days.”

Although Braham describes such expeditions such as the 1947 Swiss expedition to the Garhwal, the first European party to climb in the Himalaya after World War II, and an attempt on Minapin in the Karakoram in 1958 on which the two climbers disappeared during a summit attempt, most of the stories are about Shiptonian style trips to areas such as Spiti and Sikkim, which are still off the main mountaineering track.

Braham begins by recounting a trip to the Garwhal in 1947 in the company of the Swiss expedition.  Then he takes us to Sikkim in 1949 when with one Western companion and four Sherpas led by Angtharkey he explores the glaciers and mountains in its northeast corner.  Next, he recounts his expedition to Minapin in 1958, followed by a light trip in 1962 to attempt Falek Ser, the highest peak in Swat.  Besides a few friends, he had six porters and an armed escort.  Swat was dangerous even then.  After relating some stories about excursions into the tribal country of the Northwest Frontier, he ends by describing three trips to the relatively unknown Kaghan Valley, between Kohistan and Kashmir.

It was a simpler time, but simple did not mean lack of adventure.  As the Swat trip showed, just getting into the mountains was exciting.  The lack of transportation and communications, not to mention the absence of helicopters, lent a spice of excitement to everything. There were a lot of charming as well as challenging peaks available to curious mountaineers, mountains one would like to have in one’s own backyard. The reader is taken into remote corners of little known regions, climbing peaks which seem to be little more than pyramid symbols on exotic maps.  Braham also conveys the flavor of what the inhabitants as well as the country were like.  From the Sherpas of Nepal to the Pathans of the Northwest Frontier, the diversified character of these people stands out.

As intriguing as the descriptions of travel and climbing in the remote Himalaya are, one of the most interesting parts of this modest book is about climbing in the Northwest Frontier.  Some of these stories did not appear in Himalayan Odyssey.  All of them are timely as this now is the land of the Taliban.  Much has been written about it, but these brief accounts gives one a feeling of the culture of these tribesman.  It is wild country.

While the maps in Himalayan Odyssey are better than the maps in Himalayan Playground, the latter are adequate to orient the reader.  On the other hand, the illustrations in this book are far superior to the pictures in the earlier one.  Although there is considerable history and facts in the book, it is best used not for information but for a pleasant and nostalgic read of distant lands in olden times.  Perhaps the good old days weren’t so bad after all.

* Source : – The Blog of The American Alpine Club Library

** Previous story : – Books.

-  American Alpine Club Events – Celebrate Eldo: AAC and ACE Book Release Party.

-  AAC Book Club meeting: Everest – Alone At The Summit.

- AAC Book Club meeting: Next One is August 11th.

** zapraszam na relacje z wypraw polskich himalaistów.

zapraszam do subskrypcji mego bloga

I rate the journey to Pauri as a milestone in our travel escapades. Pauri was 1814 meters above mean sea level on the slope of Kandoliya hills in the Pauri Garhwal ranges of Uttarakhand, over 400 kilometers from Gurgaon.

I was deeply apprehensive about driving in the hills and my wife had a hard time allaying fears and prodding me into action. However, upon hitting the road, all fears evaporated and we thoroughly enjoyed the visit.

Khoh River

We started off early morning from Gurgaon, touched Ghaziabad in an hour, took the meticulously hidden turn to Meerut, climbed a flyover, got on to GT Road and raced down NH58. Meerut was chaotic – pathetic roads, lumbering tractors, baffling signage. Sympathetic passersby helped us to negotiate the labyrinthine streets and guided us till Mawana/ Bijnor road.

Chir Pines

Where the road bifurcated to Muzaffarnagar and Bijnor, we stopped for tea and a quick bite at Monty Million restaurant. Beyond Bijnor, we passed several small towns, Kiratpur, Najibabad, crowded with people and cattle. Soon the straight roads lined with paddy and maize fields gave way to winding roads. Far ahead, the Garhwal Himalayas swung into view and formed a constant back drop to the panorama.

We entered Kotdwara hungry, expectant and anxious of the mountain terrain. ‘Eats’ restaurant where we lunched served us Parantha, special Dal and tea along with detailed directions for the onward journey. We filled fuel at Kotdwara and climbed along the milky white Khoh River for a while with eyes riveted to the road dodging speeding jeeps and skirting potholes. At Dugadda a branch road led to Landsdowne. The majestic splendour Shivalik mountains unfolded over a hazy grey horizon, rolling hills and terraces of paddy as we edged past Gumkhal village and gently descended to Satpuli town.

Bad news! The regular route was closed for repair. We crossed a bridge, went past the toll gate at Banghat and took the alternate route via Kanskhet. Bilkhet, Banekh, Ghandiyal, Banjkhal, went milesstones announcing roadside villages. The silver trickle of a river meandered through the valley to our left, flanked by fields in varying shades of green and yellow. Distant peaks shimmied in a play of light and shadow under the slanting afternoon sun.

Khirsu

Evening advanced upon us sooner than expected. Nervous, we eagerly watched each milestone, counting the remaining distance to Pauri. As we emerged from the forest into the faint crimson afterglow of the setting sun, the town sprung upon us. We breathed a huge sigh of relief as we reached the GMVN guest house overlooking the valley at quarter to seven.

Kyunkaleshwar Mandir

 A spectacular daybreak! I lazily watched snow bound peaks of Neelkanth and Chaukhamba floating over cotton ball clouds through diaphanous curtains. The morning air was crisp, fresh, exhilarating. After breakfast we set out for Khirsu, driving through a breathtakingly picturesque vista of oak and deodar. After lunch we visited Kandoliya Mandir, the temple of the local mountain goddess located high-up on the mountain with amazing views of the town and valley and Kyunkaleshwar Mandir, an 8th century temple complex with splendid vernacular architecture.

Alakananda River

Next day, we went to Srinagar located downhill of Pauri, by the river Alakananda. Being on the pilgrim trail, the town was busy, noisy and hot. After a brief visit to the river we returned to Pauri.

Pauri has been spared the inevitable tourist commotion and associated distractions since it doesn’t figure prominently in the tourist circuit. The forests are still pristine, unmolested by tourist litter. People are hospitable and sport a ready smile and an eager helping hand.

With our recollections flavoured with a sense of adventure, achievement, elation and serenity, we departed from Pauri early morning retracing the trail to our wound up, preoccupied lives.

Contact Details
GMVN Tourist Rest House, Pauri 01368-222359, Mr. Joshi

For GMVN Rest House booking contact main office at Rishikesh: 0135-2431793
Email: yatraoffice@gmvnl.com/ yatraoffice@sancharnet.in

Photo Courtesy: Subha Varma

What marketing strategies – even tucked away deep in the Garhwal Himalayas! This place is in Mana village, 3 kms from the China border, hence the name! good chai!

(magazin.rucksack.ro)

Recent (septembrie 2009), slovenii Marko Prezelj, Rok Blagus şi Luka Lindic au reuşit urcarea a trei pereţi importanţi în grupul Bhagirathi, zona Garhwal, India.

Cei trei au stat în zonă o lună de zile, dar obiectivele au putut fi atinse doar în ultimele două săptămâni ale lui septembrie, datorită condiţiilor meteo neprielnice.

vf. Bhagirathi III

Într-o singură zi (15 septembrie), echipa de trei a parcurs faţa vestică a vârfului Bhagirathi IV (aprox. 6.200m alt.), pe un traseu de 1.000m diferenţă de nivel, mixt, cotat D+.

Săptămâna următoare (21-22 septembrie), slovenii au urcat faţa vestică a vârfului Bhagirathi III (6.454m): 1.300m, ED, 7/7+ UIAA, M5, WI5.

Cireaşa de pe tort a expediţiei a fost ascensiunea vârfului Bhagirathi II (6.512m), pe durata a trei zile (29 septembrie – 1 octombrie 2009). Traseul a fost cotat ABO, 7/7+ UIAA, M8, WI6+.

Toate traseele au fost parcurse în premieră.

Modest, faimosul Prezelj (Pioletul de Aur 2007) a spus că „mda, a fost o tură faină”…

(Sursa: alpinist.com)

Din informaţiile pe care le deţin în prezent, singurul alpinist din România, care a parcurs trasee în zonă, este orădeanul Leslie Fucsko.

Realizările celor trei sloveni nu sunt o surpriză. Alpiniştii români conectaţi la evenimentele de pe plan internaţional, probabil cunosc faptul că alpinismul sloven (ex-yugoslav) a fost şi este extraordinar de puternic, cu multe realizări. Împreună cu alpiniştii polonezi şi ex – cehoslovaci, au format vârful de lance al alpinismului de top mondial din blocul comunist.

Slovenii au şi multe tentative eşuate, dar fără aceste expediţii ratate nu ar fi fost posibile succesele. În acest caz – spre deosebire de România – alpiniştii au profitat de toate ieşirile din afara ţării, încheiate sau nu cu succes.

Un material amplu şi interesant pe această temă, despre numele mari din alpinismul sloven, a fost tradus şi publicat de către Cătălin Brad (Bucureşti) într-unul din cele trei numere ale defunctei reviste „Alpin Extrem”, în anii `90.

Câteva dintre aceste realizări din anii 70-80, le enumăr mai jos.

Faimosul Tomo Cesen

Realizări slovene (ex – yugoslave)

1979: premieră pe creasta vestică a Everestului (Andrej Stremfelj, Jernej Zaplotnik)

1981:

-       premieră pe faţa sudică a vârfului Dhaulagiri, Himalaya;

-       12 alpinişti sloveni, dintr-un total de 40, ating vârful Broad Peak pe ruta normală;

-        prima ascensiune a feţei nordice a vârfului Yalung Kang (NE), unul din cele cinci vârfuri ale vârfului Kanchenjunga (Bornt Bergant, Tomo Cesen);

-       yugoslavii ating altitudinea de 8.150m pe faţa sudică a vf. Lhotse, pe un traseu în premieră;

1986: premieră pe Torre Egger (Patagonia), realizată de Silvio Karo, Franc Knez;

1987: a doua ascensiune a Turnului Trango (Torre Innominata), pe un traseu în premieră (Slavko Cankar, Franc Knez, Srot);

Silvio Karo

Un material în lb. română despre realizările lui Andrej Stremfelj, poate fi citit pe linkul de mai jos.

http://alpinet.org/main/articole/show_ro_id_671_pid_1648.html

The dreamy drive ends abruptly in about an hour. The road comes to an end as it makes a gentle turn to the left.

As the entire Upper Baspa Valley opens up, it presents a grand vista without compare. The tall peaks half asleep in the clouds and the gently dancing waters coursing through the twists and turns of the Baspa fills one’s being with sublime joy.

There had been several discussions in the internet thread, with copious contributions from various members, about the need for a Inner Line Permit in the Lamkhaga Pass route. The opinion varied. While everyone was convinced that a formal permission was necessary when one attempts it from the Harsil side, there was no agreement on the fact that it’s equally necessary from the Chitkul side.

Presently, having obtained no positive confirmation that a message has been formally conveyed from the district administration, we decided to take a chance and proceeded ahead for our intended destination, Ranikanda camp. Just as we apprached the Chitkul school, a prominent feature visible in the Google Earth, we noticed a black dog following us. I had lavished a packet of biscuit on him already, but he would not relent! We did not mind, he was good company!

Day 7- Nagasthi Camp- Ranikanda Camp

Next morning was the first lazy one I enjoyed in over a week. There was nothing that could be done before 1000 Hrs, when the government offices opened.

Apparently he was here in Chitkul and has not heard the message himself that was relayed to the station!! How can the message be conveyed to anybody but him? It took me the next one hour to massage his ego and pose various logic to prove our case. Several telephone calls later to various offices of ITBP, he finally relented and radioed his personal permission for our passage. I must add here, that was the only sour experience I had with the ITBP. Once past the checkpost, they dazzled us with their magnanimous generosity.

It took an hour for the camp to be on its springing feet, just when the rain clouds started rolling in from the eastern sky.

The weather tested us for the next three hours. The light drizzle soon matured into a downpour. The porters had not prepared well for this. All the loads soon got drenched, including the sleeping bags.

We spent a dark, damp night that felt strangely forbidding. It was as if, the mountains had barred us at the gateway, or at the least were testing our mettle- whether we were fit to enter the inner sanctum.

Day 8- Ranikanda Camp- Dumti Camp

The southerly route leading into Ranikanda takes another sharp turn further east, thus describing a giant S. One is on a east-west traverse again along the Upper Baspa Valley. The mountains around wore a naughty look, as if someone had sprayed a mist of snow over them. Evidently, the rain in the previous evening had converted into gentle snow later.

The rock band was actually a landslide zone which posed great difficulty. Thankfully it was not very long. On the opposite side of the river, a similar area is called “Lal Dhang”- literally “The zone of Red Rocks”.

Ravin, in his typical regalia of “Lawrence of Arabia” tried a bit of adventure here, quite inadvertently.

Day 9- Dumti Camp- Baspa Glacier Camp

It is almost as if it is the beginning of the reign of a new powerful force, much stronger than the terrible cold of the night.

For the little time that was available while we were getting ready for the day’s walk the black dog, who we were now calling Sheru, stole few winks. Curled up in a ball of fur, he was basking in the warmth of the Sun. For the whole of the previous night he had kept his presence felt with the regular and periodic barks, probably a way to work away the cold.

The Camp soon went busy with a group activity aimed at collecting Juniper bushes. The worsening weather did not deter us. We ended up collecting a cart-load of Juniper bushes in light snow conditions. They helped fuel a rather long camp-fire that burnt bright till late into the night.

Day 10- Baspa Glacier – Lamkhaga Pass- Bivouac at Snowfield

We started early for the summit, early by our previous standards. By 0800 Hrs we had begun the trek. The idea was to cross the pass by lunchtime and proceed ahead to the foot of the Lamkhaga Glacier so that the walk for Kyarkoti the next day would be an easier one. That would also help in avoiding an inordinately long trek on the last day.

As one looks in the westerly direction, towards the head of this valley, at 10 O Clock (due South West) is the steep snow-face that leads to the corniced ridge of the Chhotkhaga Pass. If one could attempt that steepness, the journey to Kyarkoti gets shortened by a good 10 kilometers. Next to it, at 12 O clock is a moderate sized icefall behind which is the saddle of a possible pass to the Jalandhari Gaad valley. Next to it is the Peak of Lamkhaga at 1 O Clock and next to it at 2 O Clock is the Lamkhaga Pass.

The pass appeared to be in a touchable distance. The vast morraine bed ahead and the waves of snowfields above appeared quite easy- some magic of optical illusion perhaps.

Thankfully it was packed snow and not the powdery variety that increases the toil several fold. On the down side, the tightly packed snow was slippery quite often, requiring us to take extreme care before treading the next step.

The near-vertical slopes seemed unending. Every now and then one of us would slip into some unseen hole in the snow. Strangely, Sherry rarely suffered from this consternation. The porters decided to take a slightly more precipitous but rocky route.

It is difficult to remember how each one of us fought our way through that slippery snow and a final patch of loose rocks that rose upwards forever. Every few seconds someone would shout out “Rock! Rock! Rock!” to warn the members following below.

Day 11- Lamkhaga Pass- Upper Kyarkoti

A snowfield can be surprisingly warm especially when the Sun overhead is bright and bearing down with full force. All that we had to dry was dried in an hour. Krushi and I watched the going-abouts in the camp silently when we saw our four-legged companion cavorting around. In a moment he stopped- Our Sheru, smelt around a particular patch and bent both her hind legs to take a leak. That’s when it struck me; she was a bitch- not a dog!! Why were we calling her Sheru then?

The descent further down led us through tough boulder zone. After the fun morning with all that glissading on snow, it took us sometime to adjust to the kilometers of rock and boulders.I decided to change over into my trekking shoes rather than troubling my soul trying to hop boulders with my Koflach on. Sherry of course was in the advance party, right at the very front. She was a pro in every department.

Shortly thereafter, as we took the natural easterly bend of the river, the camp site became visible. The porter team had gone ahead and pitched tents already. Sleeping bags and cloths were out for drying. The GPS still indicated Kyarkoti to be 3 Kms away.

Day 12- Upper Kyarkoti- Harsil and beyond

Click here to view these pictures larger

*****************************

 [Published under the author’s permission ]     

[ Original publication at www.snowscapes.blogspot.com on August 15, 2009–the readers are requested to express their comments on the original Blog as mentioned above ]

Chamba is known as the hill station of North India. It is situated in Tehri Garhwal District of Uttarakhand, India. It is a nagar panchayat. You can say it a small town also. It is situated on the cross road of Mussoorie, Rishikesh, Tehri and New Tehri. It is on the mid-way of Chamba-Dhanaulti road. Most of the tourist places are near about it – Dhanaulti, Surkanda Devi Temple and New Tehri. A tourist can reach here very easily from each part of Tehri and the Char Dham. Chamba is known as the ideal place to spend holiday also. So, it is one of the best holiday places of North India also. You can view very beautiful sunset here from several peaks such as Banderpunch and Bhagirathi.

Historically it is known as the part of Tehri Riyasat. It was called as Chamba or Chamua. Chamba town is mix up of Garhwali and north Indian culture. Chamba is known as the host location for Gangotri and Yamunotri for tourists. Its environmental beauty is just like heaven.

The most attractive place for tourist of Chamba is the town, Gabbar Singh Negi Memorial and Shri Bageshwar Mahadev Mandir. Chamba town is known as the main location of North India for any tourist. GMVN Tourist Guest House is the most famous of Chamba town to spend some times for tourists. The market is also situated on the hill.

Another place is Gabbar Singh Negi Memorial hall which has great importance, historically. Gabbar Singh was a brave solder of Garhwal Rifles. Gabbar Singh Negi Memorial hall was established in 1925 in Chamba. It is the best location for tourists in Chamba.

Shri Bageshwar Mahadev Mandir is also the most famous temple of Chamba. It is dedicated to the lord Shiva. The temple is very beautiful which attracts lots of tourists.

You can reach very easily to Chamba from roads, air or train. It is well connected with the most famous tourist places – Mussoorie, Rishikesh, Tehri and New Tehri. You can enjoy here as holiday traveling or hill station traveling. Chamba is known as the most beautiful hill station of North India also.

संतोषी माता मंदिर में कुछ समय बिताने के बाद हम लौट चले. लौटते हुए एक नया सा रास्ता दिखा. हम दोनों ने काफी अटकलें लगाने के बाद उस रास्ते पर चलना शुरू कर दिया. कुछ ही देर में हम भुल्ला ताल पहुँच चुके थे. बिना पूछे रास्ता मिल गया. संतोषी माता का आशिर्वाद था शायद. भुल्ला ताल एक कृत्रिम ताल है. इसका रखरखाव गढवाल राईफ्ल्स द्वारा किया जाता है. यहाँ एक बच्चों का पार्क भी है जिसमें झूले लगे हैं. ताल में बोटिंग का मजा भी लिया जा सकता है. यहाँ की सुंदरता देखते ही बनती है. हम काफी देर तक यहाँ के नजारों मजा लूटते रहे. पिकनिक के लिये एक आदर्श स्थान है भुल्ला ताल.

नीरज – मुसाफिर

लैंसडौन की सैर – मुसाफिर के साथ भाग – 1
लैंसडौन की सैर – मुसाफिर के साथ भाग – 2

Thanks to Google

It is almost ten months since I have returned from the Valley of Flowers. As I go around grinding through my daily life far away in another country, I have a charming place called the Valley of Flowers to think about, and am delighted to have had a chance to be there.

I’ve heard from a few visitors to the Valley that it is not as beautiful as they expected it to be. I beg to differ. Perhaps it is not difficult to please me when it comes to beauty and romance of nature.

To get a better idea of how and where I’ve reached so far, you may wish to read my Introductory Post and subsequent posts on my journey through high-altitude western Himalayan towns of Govindghat and the trek to Ghangaria.

After ascending 14 kms from Govindghat to Ghangaria, it is then mostly an uphill trek of about 4 kms to reach the Valley of Flowers. From the entrance, trekkers can explore another 3-4 km of the marked trail out of the 20 square kms of the Valley. Camping in the Valley is forbidden, so the return journey to Ghangaria, the base camp, must be done the same day.

Here’s my account of my trek to the Valley of Flowers describing how the countless images of the grandeur of the majestic mountains and the Valley of Flowers have left an indelible mark on my mind. I must add this is just an attempt for, as Helen Keller said: The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen, described or even touched. They must be felt with the heart.

~~~

It is a cold and cloudy morning in Ghangaria. Packing some nuts and raisins in my daypack, I have a quick breakfast at a tiny restaurant and in reduced visibility through the mist, I set out to the Valley of Flowers. It begins to drizzle lightly and the raincoat I bought in Govindghat becomes useful again.

A few meters away from Ghangaria, the trek path bifurcates: the one on right leads to Hemkund Sahib where most of the people passing through Ghangaria head to, and fortunately for me today, it is the path to the left. At the entrance gate of the Nanda Devi National Park, there are three friendly government officials who appear pleased to see us. I guess after watching most of the visitors to Ghangaria trudging towards Hemkund on the right, they must be glad to find at least a few nature lovers heading towards their route. After a quick registration and payment of nominal fee at the check-post, I begin the ascent to the Valley of Flowers.

Soon, I cross a make shift bridge through a stream and as I continue ascending, at each turning, I see before me magnificent mountains and low clouds hovering around their peaks.

Climb to the Valley of Flowers

In the deep ravine, the roar of the River Pushpavathi can be heard. I glance back and stop to espy the beautiful mountain town of Ghangaria from a height. I know there is no chance for exhaustion on this beautiful route.

Continuing the climb, I get closer to the River Pushpavati flowing. A short descent and I cross a bridge over the gushing waters. Then the steep ascent begins. Before long, I chance upon a remnant of a fascinating Himalayan glacier. It reminds me of a decorated cake with its icing.

Part of the glacier

As I continue ambling, I find myself on a wide shelf littered with boulders. I come across a bunch of creamy yellow fungi. They seem to be reveling in the warmth of a niche in the rocks. Other rare plants flourish on these mountains. There seems to be enough nutrients in the soil of the meadow for their sustenance.

I clamber on and stop to admire a Bhojpatra tree, and think about how its bark was used in ancient times to write on. I can recognize sal and birch, and a variety of magnolia and rhododendrons among the rich vegetation. A bird darts in and out of the trees before I am able to identify it. At one spot, I come across a swarm of butterflies, and stand spellbound watching a kaleidoscope of colour fluttering around.

Very different from the bridle path to reach Ghangaria, the path leading to Valley of Flowers is free from pilgrims, guides, porters, tents, shacks, animals and dung. Unlittered and natural, the path does not show signs of abuse and has a fragrance of freshness.

I come across very few trekkers. There are two couples from Mumbai and a few more in a small group. I can’t quite describe the awesome feeling of having the entire surrounding mountains to self amongst magnificent landscape in the quietude of nature.

At the entrance of the Valley

It drizzles again and then follows the sun peeping through the clouds unexpectedly. Through the rest of the day the pattern continues: following sunlight, intermittent drizzle, mist, and more precipitation. The misty mountains through the sun rays give me glimpses of the enchanting beauty around. The continuous change in the intensity of light at that height is enthralling.

Valley view and cloud covered peaks

At every turning, there is a new surprise. The sight of the snow clad peaks particularly make my heart leap with joy. The cascading waterfalls is a sight to behold. At certain places, the path is narrow, and slippery. I see a few locals working at a spot where there has been a recent landslide because of rains. Nodding heads in acknowledgment, exchanging smiles and accepting a few word of advice from them to be cautious and to ensure an early return, I proceed further.

The treacherous path at a few spots is kinda scary. I think to myself that no one would ever find out if ever I miss my step, and fall in the deep gorge. It would then be a case of “one blunder, and six feet under.” Oh the latter, only if the body can ever be retrieved! Twice, I take help of my hands and walk on fours for a couple of metres, and feel that time like I am doing a Jane Fonda workout for pregnant women!

Part of the trek path

Yet through it all, I enjoy myself. I guess am now so hooked to mountains and trekking that these days when I hear the name “Hillary” I think of Edmund though he is long dead and gone, rather than Mrs. Clinton and white house scandals.

I continue trudging the final ascent to reach the entrance to the Valley. A variety of flowers, dominated by pink and purple Balsam fill to the brim on either side of the narrow trek path. I reach the entrance and look up, and stop abruptly, speechless at the breathtaking sight! I hear my fellow trekker gasp and whisper, “It’s heavenly!”

Rataban peak

Picturesque mountain landscape of rich vegetation with the ephemeral clouds wrapping the mountain tops is an amazing sight. The mountains are of different shades of green, some bare and the peaks of ones at a distance, snow-clad. Within the Valley itself there are different smaller valleys. Streams of water flow right down into the River below. There are areas of treeless green meadows which are as charming as the wooded areas.

Treeless meadows

Hundreds of species of wild flowers are everywhere and these fields in the misty mountains has a mesmerizing effect on me. No matter how carefully I walk along the narrow path, a few sadly get crushed under my feet. Wild buttercups, Himalayan Knotweeds, Gentians, Rhodiolas, wild daisies, and from what I recognize, varieties of Campanula, lilies (also cobra lilies), milk parsleys, primulas, potentillas and balsam are found aplenty. I recall reading the Blue Himalayan Poppy and Brahm Kamal are rare species found only at these great heights.

Himalayan Blue Poppy (Meconopsis species)
(this picture shot on the way to Hemkund next day)

I feel sheer joy amidst the variety of flowers in the enchanting Valley. Time flies in the resplendent fields of wildflowers. I watch the snow clad Rataban peak and the gleaming Nilgiri Parbat posing majestically in the distance.

Wildflowers

As I head towards the grave of Margaret Legge, the botanist who fell to her death in the Valley while collecting plant specimens, I glance back and see the trekkers from Mumbai returning to Ghangaria right from the entrance of the Valley.

Grave of Joan Margaret Legge

Nearing the grave, before crossing a stream of clear gushing waters, I sit down on a small stone at first and then I get an urge to lie down on a small patch of grass. Initially I stretch, face upwards, and watch the sky scattered with indolent clouds. Cool breeze blows. When the sunlight gets into my eyes, I turn my face sideways and see a field of flowers: Primula, Potentillas, Geraniums, Campions, Bellflowers, Rhubarbs, Whorlflowers, Balsam, and a variety of other flowers, some quivering and others gracefully swaying in the cool breeze.

Wildflowers swaying in the Valley

The picture of the Valley with its scenery of the mist on the trail, the sea of flowers, melting glaciers, streams with gushing waters, green meadows, snow-clad mountains and their peaks looming against the horizon is aesthetically stimulating. It permanently etches a deep impression on my mind. The beauty and serenity of the place captures me in a spell. I am completely connected with the surroundings. I feel then every bit of effort that I took to get to the top is well worth the endeavour and the weary feet.

The Valley and the flowers

It is now time to get back, and I remember Ruskin Bond’s words:

…the infinity of mountains, the feeling of
space – limitless space – can only be
experienced by living in the mountains…

Though I feel like staying there forever I have to return now for I am hungry. As camping in the Valley of Flowers is prohibited I have to reach the base camp before sunset. I make my return journey, stopping often on my tracks, gazing at the magnificent mountains, absorbing in its beauty and finally descend from over 12,000 feet above sea level to Ghangaria.

~~~

At twilight that evening over cups of tea with another trekker in a tiny roadside restaurant in Ghangaria, there was more silence, than talk.

“I’ve never felt anything have such a powerful impression on my psyche,” I said.

“Mine too,” was the solemn response.

~~~

Previous Related Posts:

• Valley of Flowers: Introduction
• Valley of Flowers: Reaching Govindghat
• Valley of Flowers: The Approach

If you like this post, and wish to check out more photographs of the trek to the Valley of Flowers, click here.

[ Published under the author’s permission ]  

[ Original publication at http://indicaspecies.blogspot.com/ on June 05, 2009–the readers are requested to express their comments on the original Blog as mentioned above ]

 

Route covered so far:
Delhi – Haridwar – Rishikesh – Devprayag – Srinagar – Rudraprayag – Karnaprayag – Nandprayag – Chamoli – Pipalkoti – Joshimath – Auli– Govindghat– Ghangaria

Govindghat to Ghangaria:

One kilometer away from Govindghat’s main road, the zigzag mule track begins at Pulna and I notice it has a mark of being 13 kms away from Ghangaria. Journeying from Govindghat Ghangaria would mean an ascent of 1,220 metres (over 4,000 feet).

It is past 11:30 am. Filled with enthusiasm, I am so enamored with the beauty of the place that, save for a brief stop by at a roadside kiosk to buy a plastic raincoat, I begin the trek right away. The raincoat came of use as it kept drizzling on and off during the rest of the journey. Though it is cool, the looming noon sun beats down on me mercilessly, and makes me wish I had begun the trek early that morning. But then I take solace in the fact that I had a glorious time during my overnight stay at Auli.

I trek relatively easy carrying my backpack for the first two hours during which I ascend about 400 metres or so. At one point, during a steep climb, I suddenly realize that I’ve got to ascend more than 800 metres for the day and then begin to acutely feel the strain of the weight of my backpack. Then I recalled Murphy’s law that backpack strap width decreases with distance hiked. To compound that, I feel its weight miraculously kept increasing. Not just that, as if it is meant to ease my woes, its weight load kept migrating up and down my back as I continue walking. I felt at that time that 80% of its contents could have been left behind at home, but then who knows, the 20% left behind might be just what I need.

Mountain Village

Jokes aside, my backpack weighed about 7 kilograms and on hindsight, had I known that it was nothing but an upward incline all the way, even for that little weight, I’d have taken the help of one of the porters right from Govindghat itself. After trekking for 3-4 kms, I cross the beautiful Bhuyundar village, a cluster of modest houses with the backdrop of misty mountains. I chance upon a porter – who was to charge me only Rs 200 or so to carry it up to Ghangaria – and toss my backpack at him with relief. Thereafter my ascent gets easier and I am comparatively more relaxed to enjoy the rest of the journey.

Pilgrims on animals

For those who are not in the mood for trekking, there’s a choice of hiring an animal. For that matter, there are crudely assembled palanquins available for the benefit of the faint hearted (pilgrims mostly, as I believe hikers are tough); and to carry children, also pittoos. Pittoos, porters of mostly Nepali origin, carry kids of the pilgrims in cane-woven baskets on their backs.

A pilgrim being carried on a palanquin

Whether a mule is hired, or a palanquin or a pittoo, one ought to be ready to balance well, because those paths can be treacherous at times. I’d strongly suggest to trek, and enjoy the opportunity to stop at free will to absorb in the splendor and beauty of bountiful nature. It is definitely worthwhile trekking at one’s own pace to soak in the beautiful Himalayan experience.

I come across many pilgrims on their way to or returning from Hemkund Sahib. When compared, trekkers going to or returning from the Valley of Flowers are far and few. The path is, at places, strewn with mule dung. I often hear the pilgrims chanting ‘Waahe Guru’ when able to spare a breath; some of them filling palms of climbers with glucose, toffees, and to those who need it, words of encouragement to egg on. Little do they know that I am one of the few on my way to the Valley of Flowers, not Hemkund, where most seem to be obviously heading. I am quite surprised to see some of these pilgrims undertaking the arduous journey barefeet! But then I often feel the power and strength of religious sentiments is beyond my comprehension.

Brahma Kamal, a rare Himalayan plant
(it was misty when I shot this picture)

I stop often to admire the exotic flora and the many spots of cascading waterfalls from the great heights into the valley before joining the roaring waters of the flowing Lakshman Ganga. The river flows almost parallel to the trek path and gives me company most of the way. The long journey is a bit tiring but beautiful all the way.

River Lakshman Ganga flows

Twice, I take tea-breaks at shacks during the 7 hours trek. I watch pilgrims looking dreamy through the mist plodding along the steep trek path, wearing colorful raincoats. Both times, I choose a spot that has the River Lakshman Ganga running close to the shacks. The effect of the gurgling river has a soothing effect. The marvelous feeling of sipping tea in such surroundings is something that I can’t experience even in 5-star surroundings.

I continue trudging along. Tired towards the end, the journey of the last 2-3 kms only gets more steep but there is no time to rest my weary feet as I am intent on reaching Ghangaria before sunset. Then I come across a helipad area, and a cluster of tents. I know from what I had read online that this is an indication that I have almost reached.

Approaching Ghangaria

Finally after 6 pm, I am glad to reach Ghangaria. Being a base for hikers and pilgrims going to either Valley of Flowers or Hemkund, I find the place is crowded for mountain dwelling standards. I intend to stay at the GMVN accommodation, though fully aware of an unsuccessful attempt at making an advance reservation with them. Their website stating booking can be made only 3 days in advance was also of little help as I had left on my journey by then. As I head towards the GMVN quarters, I notice a major part of their building gutted by fire. Upon inquiries, I learn that their remaining wing is fully booked as their dormitory was destroyed by fire. I sincerely hope it is not a case of arson at this great height in the Himalayas!

The sun having set now, I scout around and fortunately find a damp-walled but tidy lodge with clean attached bathroom and promptly check into it. It is getting dark, and the mist enveloping the area gives me little idea initially of how actually the place looks like.

In the twilight, at one point, I watch the fog clearing up and voila..I see before me just a few feet away from the lodge a huge mountain side, like a tall wall looming right in front of me. I feel it real close like a spectacular wallpaper on my PC monitor but this is real and beautiful nature! It is an exhilarating experience spending time in the midst of these towering peaks some of which are at a height of more than 20,000 feet above sea level.

Ghangaria from a height

I cover up well to protect from the freezing weather to go out for some early dinner in anticipation of having an early night in Ghangaria. I am just one night away from the day that was to dawn when I would be in the Valley of Flowers finally. With pleasant thoughts of anticipation of that day, I fall asleep.

“Towards the end, the mountains have appeared nearby,
yet not close enough not to be in awe of them.”

To be continued…

Previous Related Posts:

• Valley of Flowers: Introduction
• Valley of Flowers: Reaching Govindghat

[ Published under the author’s permission ]   

[ Original publication at http://indicaspecies.blogspot.com/ on May 03, 2009–the readers are requested to express their comments on the original Blog as mentioned above ]

Map borrowed and modified

The next day, in a ‘sharing taxi’ the rest of the journey from Rudraprayag through scenic Himalayan landscape keeps me spellbound through Karnaprayag and Nandprayag – at the confluences of the beautiful mountain rivers. The tributaries of the Ganges River gives company most of the journey. Reaching Chamoli, and overcoming the landslide episode, I reach Joshimath and have the choice to continue up to Govindghat. But something within me opts to stopover at Auli.

Locals chatting up – a long range shot from moving cable car

Auli at 5:35 am

Reaching Govindghat

I reach Govindghat and sit down to have some maggi noodles and tea as I am soon to commence the first leg of my journey to the Valley of Flowers by foot. From the window of the tiny roadside restaurant I can see the mesmerizing views of the majestic mountain and it is surprising to see quite a few people in this small mountain town.

Govindghat

View of Govindghat from a height

The rest of my plan for the day is to ascend a distance of 14 kms from Govindghat to Ghangaria to reach before sunset, and after a night’s rest to trek further right into the Valley of Flowers early next morning.

How to Reach Govindghat:

[ Published under the author’s permission ]  

[ Original publication at http://indicaspecies.blogspot.com/ on April 27, 2009–the readers are requested to express their comments on the original Blog as mentioned above ]

No pessimist ever discovered the secret of the stars or
sailed an uncharted land, or opened a new doorway
for the human spirit. – Helen Keller

1937.
Overwhelmed by what he had seen six years back, Frank Smythe returns to the Valley and explores it extensively together with R. L. Holdsworth, another botanist.

1938.
Smythe writes a book and titles it “Valley of Flowers”. The Valley gets christened with the name. The book is published and the world comes to know of this natural wonder of about 90 sq km situated at a height of 3,342 m – 3,658 m (10 to 12,000 feet), with one of its peaks towering up to 6,675 m (21,899 feet) above main sea level.

1982.
The Valley of Flowers is declared a national park. Many restrictions are clamped on tourists. Camping is not allowed in the Valley. Collecting plants from the Valley is banned. Grazing of animals in the Valley is banned to protect some of the rare species of plants. (That there is a controversy on the latter decision is another matter.)

1988.
The Valley of Flowers is inscribed to be on the list of World Heritage Site.

2005.
The Valley of Flowers, one of the seven natural sites, is added to the list of the UNESCO’s World Heritage Site.
I read on BBC’s In Pictures website about the Valley of Flowers getting the status of world heritage site. The more I read about the Valley of Flowers, the more fascinated I get. That day, I decide to visit the Valley someday for an up close and personal experience of the natural wonder.

2008.
Online, I outline plans with fellow travelers to meet up in Delhi and spend two weeks in Garhwal, trekking right up to the Valley of Flowers. The time that I choose is July end as July-August is supposedly the best time when the Valley blooms in full abundance while through most of the year it sleeps in a thick blanket of snow.

Rupa the little girl

Jayprakash Tiwari lives in Anusua with his family –wife and two cute baby girls. He runs the only Chati (road side very modest hotel) in Anusua – a two storied brick and mud house with spartan facilities. They toil hard to eke out a living. Uma, the wife who can beat any woman in a beauty contest, begins her day at the crack of the dawn and it ends at midnight. But despite the hard life they laugh a lot, play around their baby girls and seem quite content. They are always ready to serve the guests with a smile; must be the heady influence of the valley.

Anusua – a small settlement of few Garhwali families and priests of Anusua temple lies in a small valley in the deep of Garhwal Himalaya at 7200fts, reachable only after a steep trek of 5 kms and is surrounded by soaring green mountains and canopied by dense forest. The surrounding forest teems with wild animals —deer, boar, Himalayan bear and leopard. Birds and butterflies are the valleys permanent residents.

We were in Anusua to complete a somewhat tough trek that starts at a place called Mandal, went up to Rudranath, one of the famous Panch (five) Kedar then takes a lonely, treacherous and steep route over mountain ridges to Kalpeswar — the fifth Kedar.

 Anusuas’ claim to fame is its temple of Mata Anusua who is said to be the greatest Sati (loosely translated, faithful wife) of all time. Her faithfulness was tested, again and again, by the Gods themselves (it is said, their wives forced them to do it. It’s reassuring to know, even gods have to dance to the dictate of their wives — like us the mortals!). And in the process her husband – the equally famous Atri Muni who usually spent most of his time in meditation in a nearby cave, turned those gods into toddlers. The conspiring Goddesses were forced into submission to save their husbands and the greatness of the Mata was established.

 Trekking 5kms from Mandal (5400 fts) – the road-head, through a meandering and steep trail on the bank of Atri Dhara (rivulet), I was tired. The climb of nearly 2000 fts in 5 kms that too in the first day of the trek was tiring. Most of the track goes through dense forest and sensing our apprehension of wild animals, our guide cum porter assuredly said, “Saab, Bhalu ke bagar kuch dar nehi” (Sir, fear the bear only)!

 Seeing me on his door, Joyprakash quickly spread a blanket on the floor of the wide balcony in the first floor. One can see the whole valley stretching leisurely from this balcony. Rupa, the youngest girl (just all of four years), seeing her old acquaintance, came running in. It felt like home. I just sat there till late into the night soaking in the ambience – the silence, the light fresh air, the occasional chirping of the birds and the display of the butterflies and in the late night – twinkling of glow worms.

 Next day, we set out for the cave where, legend says sage Atri lived and meditated. The 1.5 kms trek through dense forest; balancing precariously on a single log bridge over the fiercely flowing Atri Dhara was thrilling (I never realized before — I can perform as a gymnast !). More thrill to come when I had to climb a 15fts rock wall desperately clinging on an iron chain that dangles from the rock wall and swings violently (surprise ! I can be a chimpanzee too). And then crawl on all fours like a snake through a one-foot wide slit of a giant boulder. Any wrong move, I will find myself at the bottom of a sheer drop of 300 fts.

 But the cave is worthy of all these life-defying acts of “who dares win”! It is an exact replica of that great ‘Skull Cave’ of ‘Phantom’ (remember Ghost who walks?). The cave is hidden behind a huge fall from which great volume of water torrentially cascades. The fall generates a drone that reverberates like the sound of an express train on full run. One had to shout to be heard.

 But neither Anusua nor Atri cave was our destination. We want to go to Kalpeswar via Rudranath through a route that is seldom trekked. Anusua was just a halt in between, mainly, for acclimatization. The next part of the track— a steep continuous ascent of 13kms to Naola pass (12700fts) and a gentle descent of 4kms—through the most dense forest and green Bugiyals was waiting to test our strength and patience. They say, “Rudranath ka chadai, German ka ladai” (the ascent of Rudranath is akin to a battle with the Germans).

Entering the jungle of Rudranath

 

Starting at 5-00 A.M., we reached Rudranath (11670fts) at 4-00 P.M –totally exhausted, on the brink of collapse. Barring a lunch break and few short recesses, it was a continuous trek for almost eleven hours through one of the most difficult and most beautiful terrain where the correct trail is impossible to locate without the help of a guide. The damp, dark, moss laden slippery-forested track was tedious to trek. The tall trees, covered with moss, had such an ancient look that one is bound to feel veneration toward them. Green Bugiyals dotted with alpine flowers and rhododendron, flittingly sunny and forever misty gave us some relief.

 

 The other story is not associated with Pandavs. On hearing Shiva being condemned by her father – Daksha, Shiva’s consort Parvati committed suicide. When news of Parvati’s death reached Shiva, he transformed himself into an image of pure rage (Rudra) in Rudranath.

 Actually, Rudra is a Vedic god. In Rg Veda god of fire has been called Rudra who has two manifestations – destroyer (Rudra) and preserver (Shiva). Later, Rudra was totally merged into Shiva.

 Some time I wonder! Whether the Himalaya is made of rock & ice or of legends, mysticism and our beliefs? This heady mixture where the borderline between reality and romanticism is some what mixed up and at best is very thin lures us to this unknown. This and the enticement to win over the toughest adversaries must have launched the explorations & the expeditions.

Evening came sliding down the slopes of the mountain and the sun sets the peaks around Rudranath — Nandaghunti, Bughyalkoti, Nilkantha on fire. Birds flocked back to their nests in the Rhododendron bushes. Lights began to fade. Soon the snow crested peaks turned deathly pale. Resplendent in colours moments back, Rudranath valley turned in to a place where legends are born.

On the third day, we were off to Dumak (8200 fts) – a wealthy village with school and solar power. The stunningly picturesque trail was quite difficult. It took us 11 hours (in such un-surveyed routes, distance is measured in hours not in kilometers) to reach. On way, Toli – a green saucer shaped valley dotted with red, blue and yellow alpine flowers and surrounded by tall deodars with a small Tal (lake) bang in the middle, left us speechless.

On the final day, we reached Kalpeswar where Lord Shiva left his matted locks. The trail is stone paved and passes through stunning sceneries. In a tiny cave (6fts X 8fts X 5fts) just in front of the cave temple, lives ‘Bangali Baba’ – an ascetic. In the last 40 years he has gone out of his cave only twice—for a cataract operation and for a visit to Kumbha Mela. Sitting in front of an ever-flaming smoky Chula (oven), he’d offer every visitor a cup of hot tea with a dollop of ghee. If one lingers, he will go on offering the same concoction again and again. We had a warm chat, recalled our earlier meeting. I took a few shots of him.

As I was leaving, Baba called me back. With a child like smile he said, “Send me copies”. I was momentarily speechless. An ascetic who renounced everything, in whose cave I have not even seen a mirror, wants to keep his own image ! Unfathomable human mind! Strange. Mystic. Just like my Himalaya !!

The priest of the Rudranath temple enlightened us with two legends associated with Rudranath. One is the well-known Pancha Pandav story ; to wash their sin after the battle of Kuruskhetra, Pancha Pandav came to the Himalaya to have a Darshan (sighting) of Shiva. But Shiva was reluctant to show himself and fled in the guise of a bull. Bhim followed Shiva and seized a part of the bull’s body forcing him to abandon that part in that place. Shiva left his face in Rudranath.

 

 

When the train dropped us in Haridwar, the last dawn of May wiped her half-shut eyes in deep surmise to greet us—stunned she was, perhaps, for all so humble punctuality of Doon Express. We too were. Before she could spread her wings to fly for the day, we were curled up under loads of sacks and rolled along to Bhalla Bus stand. The morning bus for Uttarkashi was snoring out its first breath of toxic fume, and we had nearly two hours time before it would run. We threw our luggage into its rear cabin and tossed ourselves off to Bilwakeswar temple.

The morning glow of sunshine had, in the meanwhile, flourished all over to let us dream of its devious face waiting to tear off mask of gentility—the summer day was about to step in. We were already floated in to soar up in the sky—in reality and in dream too—for to meander in the alleyways of painted nature.

The noon was horrid in Uttarkashi. We waited till the evening descends with darkness buried under her cloak. We carried a major share of packed items from Kolkata, but the regular items were to be procured. When we had almost completed our packing, the cell phone cried in its monotonous vibrating noise. It was Umed (the guide of our Nandikund trek) on the other side. He along with senior Umed (the other member of our team) had already reached Chamba from Ransi village and would be reaching Uttarkashi by the noon next day. We were happy to hear of them. It was time to sleep, wide and long, after fifty hours of gallop.

The morning was clear and shining. We set off for Gangotri as soon as Umed-duo had joined us. Kishen Singh of Uttarkashi also joined us. We actually planned to reach there a day after and had a booking in Birla guest house, but for all nice gesture of 9-up Doon, we had advanced more proudly than the Allied force on German-occupied French capital of Paris. We didn’t know before that the next day was Ganga Dashera. The small village of sacred shrine was stacked up in swelling pilgrims. We could manage a six-bedded room for 1200 bucks. It was already dusk when we could settle down in comfort.

I was a bit anxious about my counterpart’s injuries. She met with a car accident in December last year. We had other plans, but had to opt for a popular trek considering damages done to her left foot. Kedartal was not an easy choice on grade, but had advantages on its shorter length and frequency of flow of trekkers.  She prepared herself so passionately—taking up short treks in between to test strength and strain. It was all for piety inherent to the self—an unwavering candle of religiosity—she had always had blessings of the world around and above. Still I was worried as love had no ease in breathing out concern.

The next day, we teamed up by six in the morning to begin the dream journey. A few turns of steep climb tossed us up in moments to a lofty height. The trail was through deep forest on the western bank of Kedarganga. The gushing stream was slowly transformed into a silver ribbon sweetly fastened on a green package of surprises. The pathway ran narrow and narrower as it proceeded. Although the ascent was through out steep with average gradient of 60 to 70 degrees, and we knew it would be tougher to negotiate loose soil when descending, but the abundance of beauty if offered was more than what so forthcoming of nature in the wilderness. In the midway, we paused for a short break to prepare our breakfast. We saw another team of three—all of Delhi—assisted by two porters approaching. We chatted for a while before they moved on. It was already nine by the time we finished our recess. Soon we could glimpse partly hidden face of mighty Thalaysagar. It was of enough inspiration to run and haste, but we had enough time, in hand, for to reach the day’s destination, Bhujkharak. 

After a couple of hours’ gentle walk, we finally arrived those two stretches of difficult tracks—one of scaling a near-flat wall of around 15 mts of length and another, not so long, sliding zone. We were sure that Bhujkharak had almost been reached and soon the day’s trek ended. It was noon—warm and soothing—with perfectly blue sky hanging down a few bundles of white clouds, here and there. The tents were set up. The Delhi trekkers had already settled down beside sizzling pot of coffee. It was long togetherness amongst unknowns.

The twilight rays sprayed its great streaks of colours upon the vast canvass of sky when we all packed up and was ready for another day’s trek. The fellow trekkers had planned to reach Kedartal. We would be trekking just up to Kedarkharak. It would be comfortably shorter. The gradient was also not so inconvenient. Only annoying part was a long stretch of sliding zone with frequent rock-falling risk. That track was nearly half a mile long with insignificant spaces in between to judge and run while crossing. The weather was absolutely bright and pleasurable—a bit warmer in comparison to our expectations. By the time we had reached the tricky chapter of the day’s trek, we found ourselves in all amazement and joy for having perfectly tranquil face of the sliding zone. No evidence of disturbance by wind or animals could be observed. The scene was only horrifying with steep incline of loose soil with hanging giant rocks all above and a straight wall-like descent of nearly 200 mts would carry fluently to plunge into the roaring beauty, Kedarganga. But, for its unusual calmness, the entire patch of sliding zone was nicely covered by the team without much anxiety.

( The reverse trek experience was exactly opposite. We were scared to see giant rocks of tons rolling down wildly through long patches of sliding zone. They took everything on its way down to river and beyond leaving only gray smoke of soil floating unknowingly towards infinity. We had to wait and watch for an hour to cross, phase by phase, batch by batch, with all anxieties. It took us more than an hour to cross it while we took just a quarter of it while going up ).

The river had now fallen bare with numerous streams flowing down through diverse vales and channels to mingle into oneness. It was so full of passion for them to act and for us to admire. We slowly treaded onto Kedarkharak.

It was a vast field—as flat and wide as possible in nearly 4km height. We chanced upon a flock of blue sheep; they ran, and played and fought before it was almost evening. The colours of another dusk was unfurling its soft shades, one after another, to paint benign faces of great range of peak Manda, Bhrigupanth, Thalaysagar and Jogins. As soon the days had wiped all its colours, the blue drew her veil adorn with tiny winking stars and silvery radiance of solitary moon of the twelfth night. It was an unforgettable moment of our life when our dreams fell to outshine events of reality.

Lopa whispered, “Do you believe they are real?”

I paused for a moment and uttered, “Unsure, I am. Perhaps, they are unseen characters of another stage of illusions. The real is more elusive than its virtual presence. Who knows where the wand HE keeps and when it swings in pleasure to transform the whole treasure of creation into unmatchable beauty!”

No more words were spoken. It was another delicate night when dreams evenly played with all its emotions and pleasure.

The next morning was as striking as the night before. The azure steppe of vast sky was perfect hung above with shaft of morning rays stretched so widely.

It was time for another short but strenuous trek to commence. Before we had smacked our lips to wipe last sweet taste of black coffee, the gentle tunes of our footsteps were already heard. Within a few minutes the team had to cross a wild stream—we were sure that it would be tougher to cross it during daytime. It was followed by a long narrow ridge walk through moraine zone. We could see the main source of Kedarganga flowing long down while another stream from Jogins accompanied us till it was time for us to attempt a steep ascent along boulder zone of nearly 50 mts height. Although the trek was completely running through glacial zone with crevasses staring agape everywhere, yet we found it comfortable as it was well contoured and abundantly painted with beauty all around. All the way of uphill walk and cautious negotiating of moraine texture, we looked up to get blessed by showering smiles of all majestic peaks. It was almost noon when we stood in front of a sharp blade of loose boulders.

It was around 50 mts of height with no curvilinear pathway. Only ease was to see its short height unlike what once would face in the last lap of Tapovan trek.

Slowly we all climbed atop to find a long last leg of trail finely crafted through a vast ocean of crevasses wide open with green snaring souls of glacial pools to swallow. We ended in a point where another steep descent on the other side was waiting for us.

But, our minds murmured in amazement, “What a translucent bead of emerald!”

It was spectacular presence of Kedartal—wide and long lake surrounded by a narrow strip of glacial moraine all around followed by lofty rise of the finest series of majestic Himalayan mountains. It had longer mouth towards its northern corner. Garlanded by white snowy beautiful Thalaysagar, Bhrigupanth, Jogin, Hanuman Tekri and Manda, it was smoothly asleep on that midsummer noon. A northern cold wave was streaming in through the passageway of crevasse zone. It was bitter cold wave and I checked the temperature already sub-zero during daytime. On its bank had only limited space for setting up of tents.

One should not settle too close to the lake as water level would rise in late night. We set it all just a few meters away on its northern mouth. It was full of beauty and pleasure that we would dream of heaven’s treasure. After lunch, we moved on to explore towards base of Thalaysagar and ABC of Jogin. It was pleasant walk through glacial moraine of raised platform along north-east face of Kedartal. It was full of delight and divinity so superbly showered all around.

We had settled down back to our tents when with strokes of invisible brush sacred faces of the Himalayan beauty had painted themselves in countless variety of twilight colours. Gentle reflections of silvery images fell immaculately upon the rippled mirror of Kedartal. The images danced upon those small waves of joy. Closer to the bank the water had already begun to freeze. The moon elegantly showed her face over the colossal wall of Bhrigupanth. The bliss of solitude impregnated the souls of a few wanderers still sitting by the poolside. 

The crest of royal Thalaysagar was enjoying its last tryst with the fading rays of the satiated soul of the sun. We sat motionless, speechless as if hypnotized beneath a vast world of fantasy. When the silence was broken, it was long into the night. The lake shone in dazzling silvery moonshine and the atmosphere offered us another different night for our life to keep in treasure for ever. Before we enter into tents, I checked again the temperature. It was minus eight. It was another elegant night where dreams, imaginations, expressions and truth had its subtle integration for to offer faith in further pursuit of life.

We were awake before it was time to shine. Together we remained seated within, holding hands, with none saying. The first sound of another day came of sweet tweets of a pair of wild Moyna.

I unzipped the tent-door facing Kedartal. An emerald, still shining half in darkness, was laid before us. Holding within its serene self was a flawless impression of sacredness—an image of Thalaysagar. Together we looked up and it was glowing at the top with a tender touch of morning rays.

She again asked me, “Do you believe it is real, or even its image upon this mirroring pool?”

I paused for a while and uttered, “Sure, I am. They are all real to us—in our dreams, in our consciousness, in our expectations, in our fallibility, in our appreciation and in our pursuit of life. They are real for to nourish the seeds of faith—in our failings, successes, knowledge, ignorance, and in our being in this fascinating journey of life. Sure, I am. They are real for to sow seeds of faith in our consciousness, for to nourish tender saplings of dreams and for to offer peace of mind in finality.”

No more words were uttered till the dawn had its graceful descent to paint us with all shines from above and within.

The interested readers may turn pages of my partner’s photo album to enjoy rest of the images at

http://flickr.com/photos/lopamudrabarman/

© Lopamudra!

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It is one of the oldest cities of India and is the capital of Uttarakhand. Dehradun is the part of Garhwal Himalayan region, which was earlier known as Kedar Khand. Katyuris of Garhwal were the initial rulers of this region.
This town is home to some of the best known educational centers and hence is also regarded as the “Oxford of India”. Dehradun is famous for its fruit orchards. The temperate climate of the city attracts tourist from all over the world, who flock in large numbers to relax and rejuvenate their body, mind and soul. The Kalinga War Memorial, The Gurkha Fort, Mindrolling Monastery, Tapkeshwar Temple and Clock Tower are the major attractions of this town.
Dehradun experiences a moderately pleasant climate round the year, and hence can be visited anytime of the year.

Mukteshwar is known for being a famous tourist destination. It is located in the Kumaon division and is situated in the midst of the Garhwal Mountains. The town is around 51 kms from the city of Nainital. The hill station is a lush green cover with forests.

It’s a scenic picnic spot, which fulfills all the tourists’ requirements and leaves them longing for more. The scenic beauty and pleasant atmosphere of the place draws plenty of tourists to the town. The town is surrounded by lovely mountains and has an extensive vegetation of semi tropical and deciduous trees.

Facilities for trekking and mountaineering are also available in the town. Mukteshwar is also known for its evenings and bird-watching.

My bruised hands hurt as I pulled myself up the rock-face. I was hot and sweaty. As I came above the natural windbreak that a line of high rocks had provided, the cold wind cut through my jackets and -and left me shivering uncontrollably. We were tired, but we could not stop or even rest. This morning, our group had had just negotiated the Stairway to Heaven and we were now on a razor-sharp jigsaw puzzle of rocks, some five feet high, some fifty. The rocks were layered and cracked on end, here they offered good grips; others were crumpled and these had nothing to offer but rocky slides and yawning chasms. All of us moved carefully – it would not do twist an ankle here. For this hell hole was Patal Khan, the slate mine and today’s destination was beyond this.

But my nerves were still on edge. The Stairway had been a nightmare – five hundred metres of insubstantial fixed rope; the path a series of indentations slanting across a steep rock slope; each just large enough to place the pad of a foot or a heel but not both. One had to lean onto the rock face at the right because the left hand stretched straight out and over the abyss. If one slipped, the rope would serve not to save us but to doom us all as we would careen off into space and thud and splash thousands of feet below.

Far below out of sight, flowed the Rishiganga which eternally reminded us with its roar that we, mere mortals, had dared to venture into hallowed ground – the inner sanctuary of the Valley of the Lost Horizon, the path through which took 37 years after it had been first glimpsed to discover.

Between two rocks, bending down to ease the strain of my overfilled rucksack, I glimpsed a smidgen of green through the boulders. Yet the porter guided us unerringly through this stony maze and before I realised it, my feet trod no longer on hard rock but on soil layered with a thick carpet of grass and herbs. We had reached our destination, the bugyal of our dreams, Sarson Patal.

But crossing the rock maze, it is not the picturesque high altitude meadow which intrigues you but the feature towering over all of us high up into the sky, the most beautiful mountain in the world – NandaDevi.

Shock and awe!

That’s what I felt – the first time I saw her up close, in the flesh. She towered up above us until it seemed she would touch the very roof of the world! Words failed me. ..

Magnificient, strong, eternal, immobile – all these seemed inadequate. ..

She was truly a Goddess.

The sun shone low over the Western sky and the face of the mountain was covered in a blue shadow. Eerily hypnotic, I realised that for the last thirteen years or so, no man had stepped on this earth till our expedition thrust through the Rishiganga gorge in the early summer of 1993 and made its way to the mountain’s threshold. A nudge from a passing mate – I think it was Samant, woke from me from my reverie and I trudged wearily on.

Bill Tilman. Alongwith Eric Shipton, he was the first to find his way into Shangri La!

The day’s march was not yet over. We still had to march right across the alpine meadow to reach the campsite at its western end. As the sun lowered itself in the sky, we crossed a number of small ridges, most of them rocky with patches of scrub and grass lining the streams between them and dwarf junipers on their crests. Dog tired, we splashed through the streams and struggled up the slopes, unable to enjoy the rosy edges of the western crest-lines which told us where the sun had slipped below to give way to the twilight. It became darker, but an early moon illuminated our path across a never-ending series of billowing grassy slopes. All at once we plunged down a steep slope into a draw and there nestled amongst a twisted skein of small streams were the four white army arctic tents of the advance party. We had reached home!

The next morning, as we had reached our destination, our predecessors allowed us to sleep on, but they packed their belongings and moved ahead as soon as we woke. Wide awake in the cold morning. Ice cold water for ablutions. A mist hovered high above the draw but hugging Sarson Patal above us. The foot-slopes of Nandadevi were barely visible ahead.

We spent a couple of hours doing all those things that need to be done to get a camp in shape. By then, the mist had cleared and the sun shone on Sarson Patal. I clambered up the slope back to the alpine meadow, and what a sight it was.

The cold wind greeted me once again as I cleared the crest. A perennial chilly breeze blows across Sarson Patal, though you disregard it on a sunny day as I did. My eyes swept across the verdant swathes of the bugyal, which lay at the base of Nandadevi separated from her by the Rishiganga which flowed in between; a dangerous torrent even though we were so close to its source. The alpine meadow extended across the river as a narrow strip at the base of the mountain, topped by a rocky slope, boulder-strewn which climbed up and away to the Southern face of the mountain.

It seems that time stands still in Sarson Patal. These timeless words described the view I saw before me perfectly…

“The camp site was a delicious change after the cramped asperity of the quarters to which we had now been long accustomed and it was difficult to say what gave most pleasure, the space, the flatness or the absence of rock. Below our little hollow, the rounded slope curved gently down to the southern bank of the Rishi and the contrast between the opposite bank and ours was as great as it might well be, and could be adequately summed up in the words ‘frowning cliffs’ and ’smiling downs’. On our side, wide slopes of short sweet grass extended in all directions; a herd of cattle grazing on some distant rise or a flock of sheep coming over the hill would have caused no surprise, so peaceful was the scene. But across the river, presenting a seemly unbroken alteration of buttress and gully along four straight miles of river frontage; and beyond these the snow and rock of the western ridge of Nandadevi loomed vaguely in the swirling mists.”

That was Bill Tilman’s description of Sarson Patal in 1936. They were still a valid and vivid description of Sarson Patal, more than half a century later.

As I stood there, at the heart of the Inner Sanctuary, I could see a ring of high mountains all around, each a grand behemoth in its own regard. These majestic peaks form a rim surrounding Nandadevi and are known as the Sanctuary Wall.

On the eastern edge of the Sanctuary stands the impressive Mrigthuni (22,500ft), Devtoli (22,300ft) and Maiktoli (22,300ft). At the eastward end, Longstaff’s col connects the snow-capped heights to Nandadevi East, out of sight from Sarson Patal. Nandadevi East connects to Nandadevi itself. The North Sanctuary Wall includes the peaks Latu Dhura (21,000ft), Rishi Pahar (22,900ft), Deo Damla (21,700ft), and Mangroan (21,500ft). On the west flank of the Sanctuary wall, Kalanka (22,900ft) Changabang (22,500ft), and Dunagiri (23,000ft) keep the rest of the world at bay. On the south side of the Sanctuary Wall rises Bethartoli Himal & South (20,800 & 20,700ft) and Trisul (23,400ft). Yet others are echeloned nearby, Nandaghunti, Nandakhat,…..There they stood in the bright, clear sunlight, imposing sentinels who protected the Goddess.

Sketch-map of Nandadevi Biosphere Reserve (Image credit- Rajiv Rawat at mountainshepherds.prayaga.org).

Sarson Patal was a carpet of grasses, herbs and shrubs. In those days I could not identify any wild flowers, unless I had Polunin and Stainton’s ‘Wildflowers of the Himalayas’ jammed in front of me and someone to guide me as I leafed through the hundreds of illustrations therein. The flowers were still few and far between because summer had yet to catch up with us at this altitude. In between the grass stalks flew small white butterflies with rounded wings having small red and blue markings.

The Common Blue Apollo, the commonest snow apollo on Sarson Patal.

”Snow Apollos!”, I cried. This was the very first time in my life that I had seen them. Ethereal, lightly drifting like snowflakes, they flew low on the bugyal. Amidst them also flew swift, brown Indian Tortoiseshell butterflies.

In the hollows where there was less wind, Queen Of Spain Fritillaries could be found. And everywhere, oblivious of wind, flew Dark Clouded Yellows and Common Yellow Swallowtails, sometimes zipping wind-aided across the meadows, sometimes clinging precariously onto grass stalks with wings slanted at an angle to the vertical and horizontal planes; whether their aim was to reduce exposure to wind and moisture loss, or, to maximize sunlight absorption, I could not tell.

Blue sheep, or 'bharal', are the common herbivores of the Nandadevi inner sanctuary.

Without packs on our shoulders, walking felt more like floating. Strewn across the meadow were desiccated skulls of Blue Sheep or Bharal interspersed amongst white fibrous scats of Snow Leopard. This evidence of predator and prey reminded us that just by being here, we were changing the dynamics of animal populations.

Keen observation, is something army officers, and especially sappers, pride themselves, yet to me the mountain opposite looked barren. Satya gently took me aside and pointed out indistinct specks of grey dusted over the slopes. i put the pair of binoculars to my eyes and focused on one and to my astonishment, there sprung into my field of view, a magnificent male bharal, facing away but with head turned back towards me, staring into my eyes. It was like a revelation. One moment, the mountain seemed lifeless, the next it teemed with hundreds of handsome blue sheep; graceful creatures grazing peacefully in the soft sunshine of the short summer.

All morning they would graze and as the weather takes a turn after noon, as it always does in mountains, these Bharal would climb up amongst the rocks, carelessly leaping across breathtaking near-vertical faces and slopes as if they were the great flat maidans of the Gangetic Plain. There amidst the rocks, were niches and crannies which gave protection from the weather and safety from their foe. Amongst them, Satya mentioned, were many ewes heavy with lamb and young males bounding forth with the energy of their first year as adults.

Nandadevi Unsoeld - tragic meeting with the Goddess. (Image taken from www dot briarcroft dot com)

A few hundred meters from our campsite, stood a stone tablet placed by the Paras in 1980 before they climbed the mountain. It tells a tragic tale, being dedicated to the late Nanda Devi Unsoeld. American mountaineer Willi Unsoeld, upon seeing Nanda Devi in the Indian Himalayas in 1949 for the first time, vowed to name his first daughter after the mountain. Twenty-seven years later he returned as co-leader of an expedition organized by his daughter to climb the peak. Nanda Devi died on her namesake mountain during the 1976 expedition which has been criticised for allowing untrained people so high up on a technically difficult, extremely high and challenging mountain. The Paras themselves had a disastrous expedition, losing all their summiteers. The memorial was thus a sombre reminder that though all was idyllic in the sunshine, our expedition-mates attempting the mountain, a few kilometres away were precariously placed and it would take very small twist in our fortunes indeed for lives to be placed in jeopardy.

Our first task was to convert our camp into a staging point for pushing stores to the Base Camp at the top of the Nandadevi glacier. This was easily done as Capt Maharana, the member in charge of stores, and his team had made detailed systematic checklists.

The next was to make it a base for exploration by the scientists. We had Ravi Sankaran of SACON, Satyakumar of WII, Samant of GB Pant Institute, Ajay Rastogi of WWF and Balodi of the BSI. My good fortune was to be associated with them as the OIC of the Ecological Team. In other words, I was the administrative support. The army’s desire to return to the most beautiful mountain of India was serendipitously timed with a realisation by the Since Nandadevi National Park had been closed since the early eighties, and it requires a major administrative effort to reach the inner sanctuary, this was a pristine environment in the Himalayas, something almost unheard off even today. The scientists swiftly chalked out their POA (plan of action) and eagerly fanned out in various directions, accompanied with a jawan or porter so as to form buddy pairs.

This is how I felt at times in the Nandadevi sanctuary.

The third task was to clear up Sarson Patal campsite. We had been doing this at each camp since we entered. Collect the trash, bag it, give it porters on their way back or fly it out as a return load on mail-choppers. Sarson Patal was a major case of garbage-disposal. Most expeditions did load-breaking here, or dumped stuff on their way out which they didn’t want to pay good money to porter out. This was strewn all over in the stream-beds. The two jawans and I spent many hours collecting trash and ’scrapping and bagging’ it, as Tilman would have called it. Our hands got chapped fetching discarded cans and empty oxygen cylinders from icy waters. Often we had to dig out partly buried items.

The jawans did not like this task, but as long as I was doing exactly what they were doing, uncomplainingly complied. The porters did not like it either. An occasional porter even threw away trash loads en-route even though he could have earned the same rates for the returning trash loads as he had done for carrying normal loads into the sanctuary.

I made a collection of tin-can labels from the different countries whose expeditions had dumped so much trash in our mountains. At last count, I had seventeen and these were displayed as a collage at Pirojshah Godrej House of WWF at the exhibition after the expedition.

The days passed very quickly – time flies when you are having fun. Each morning, I would organise, task, communicate and arrange. After these mundane but vital duties were done and communicated, I was free to join the wild lifers or wander off on my own.

The elusive Snow Leopard, the most magnificent denizen of the mountains.

One night, there was a sound of many hooves stampeding through our camp. It was late and pitch-dark. We couldn’t see anything but morning revealed some hoof marks. We surmised later on that a predator – possibly a snow leopard, had alarmed a herd of bharal which stampeded right through the camp in desperation. The snow leopard is, of course, the holy grail of mountain wildlife biologists. The twinkle at the thought of seeing a snow leopard in Sathya’s eye was rivaled only by another twinkle when he fell for an attractive Garhwali colleague at the WII almost immediately after the expedition and married her. Sathya’s diligence was unsurpassed but his searches and trips to remote corners of the sanctuary turned up pugmarks, some fresh, more scats and more kills but never the elusive ounce itself.

One thing we always looked out for was bear and bear-sign. We had no weapons to protect ourselves and plenty of stuff to entice them. However we were disappointed to find sign of neither the black bear or its high altitude relative – the brown bear.

Ravi Sankaran was a mercurial figure, full of fun and ever ready for practical jokes. Lean, dark, with a perennial stubble, brown corduroy windcheater and a brown leather bag carrying a camera and 500mm lens which must have weighed a ton, he was the first to draw me away from the simplistic world of butterfly lists which seemed to the be-all and end-all to the amateur in those days and exposed me to the magic of living organisms.

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Late Dr Ravi Sankaran - India's wildlife lovers are truly berieved. (Photo credit: Arun a.k.a. envirorights on Picasaweb.google.com.)

This article has taken a long time to write because my memories of him and the thought that I had lost a good friend saw me shy away from my laptop time and again. Ravi was a towering presence, a force of nature, full of pranks and fun. He had the ignominious privilege of teaching me to play bridge.

Under the tutelage of some of India’s best ecologists, I began a small but useful study of the butterflies of Nandadevi. I selected some typical, to my mind, ecological zones and carried out spot counts, transects being out of the question. A later technique, taught to me by Satya which involved following the little creatures for a long time to learn more about their private lives, found me discovering some new food plants for the butterflies. The plant identifications were done by Samant whose off-hand recodnition of young and growing plants confounded me. In this way, my work became the pioneering study for the butterflies of Nandadevi – not a compleat scholarly tome, but a useful beginning.

Things were not hunky-dory all the time. Once, we had a spell of bad weather. This resulted in a number of expedition mates falling prey to sniffling and small ailments. Dr Bharadwaj, our resident Doctor, soon found his time occupied examining team-members and porters. The daily duties continued but since wildlifing was not possible in the gusty rains, bridge, coffee and the telling of tall tales became our main pre-occupation. The swirling mist, howling wind led to a natural fear of a cloudburst on the mountains above our camp but thankfully this never happened. Two of our ecological team, Ajay Rastogi, an intense , bearded and spectacled ecologist with the WWF and Dr Bipin Balodi, a tall and laconic botanist were evacuated by chopper – Rastogi for bad feet and Balodi to deal with some domestic developments.

Choppers! They were a great luxury, and a tremendous morale booster! These were our lifeline! The Army aviation boys from Bareilly with their mountain-climbing Cheetahs brought dak, goodies, news, medicines, the occasional VIP and evacuated our casualties (thankfully there were no serous cases). They once carried out some trash bags from base camp rather than return with empty loads. Flying in mountains is extremely dangerous. Flying close in support of expeditions and landing at windswept makeshift helipads even more so.

The arrival of a chopper was a great event at Sarson Patal. The pilots would arrive with the rising sun, the safest time to fly on most days. The helipad was marked with lime or ‘choona’, the wind sock was hoisted and we would waitexpectantly for the sudden whirr of rotors climbing along the Rishi valley. Let a passing puff of cloud dim the sun or wall of mist drift across from the mountain and our hearts would race. Yet, sometimes despite the impenetrable thick mist on Sarson Patal, the chopper would miraculously appear from within the cloudbank and touch down like a feather. The day the chopper did not come when it was supposed to, all was dark, dreary and morose.

There was no greater happiness for me than than to see the green fuselage and bright roundels of the Army helicopters parked on Sarson Patal. I had no greater pleasure than to talk with, and ply hot coffee on the pilots in their blue or sometimes orange flying suits. There was no doubt that they risked their lives for us and we loved them for it. The best friend of the Indian soldier in the super-high picquets of the Himalayas, beside God and his arms and equipment, is the magnificent chopper pilot and his flying machine . Aside from the radio or the shots fired by the enemy, the soldier has no other link with the outside world except for the chopper which is nothing more or less than an angel in disguise.

You will find scant mention of the Corps of Engineers Scientific and Ecological Expedition 1993 in any article or book, even in the venerable tomes of the Himalayan Club on the Indian Himalayas but you will find, over and over again, the tragic tale of Nandadevi Unsoeld. This newsworthy but relatively insignificant attempt on Nandadevi in 1976 by a disparate bunch of foreigners is much reported. The Engineers expedition, a Government of India sanctioned climbing-cum-ecological mission of great import to the nation and the mountain itself, is not considered worthy of note. The first-ever ecological study of the Nandadevi Inner Sanctuary, the cleaning of the campsites, the checking of purity of water all along the course of the Rishi and from its western watershed, the close look at the lifestyle and requirements of the poor (but rich in spirit) Garhwali villagers of the Nandadevi Biosphere reserve, besides the climbing of the mountain itself, seem to carry no weight in the mountaineering fraternity, obsessed with its need to go there, climb up and get back.

Postage stamp on Nandadevi issued by Indian Posts in 1988 as part of a series on mountain peaks. This stamp had the highest monetary value in that series.

The decision to open the sanctuary or not would be based on the report of these scientists. These reports unanimously recommended to the Government, the correctness of its decision of banning from these holy peaks of the rude hands and feet of mountaineers and the long line of destruction caused by the goats and porters which followed those expeditions. The vale of Nandadevi now blooms with protected medicinal plants, the monals explode across the forest clearings at Deodi and the musk deer find rare sanctuary in Dibrughetta. The bharal of the inner sanctuary are now as curious of man as they were in the time of Shipton and Odell.

It appears to me that I am hypocritical and not just a bit confused as far as my attitude towards mountaineers are concerned. Some friends are mountaineers, of these some, including those who went to Nandadevi, were genuinely concerned over the mountain, its beauty; they deplored the ravaging of nature and enjoyed the unmatched ambience which mother nature provides to undisturbed lands. On the other hand, some were not there with a spirit of supplication or piety of the kind advocated by Bill Aitken, they were there to ‘conquer’ the mountain and their scorn at people concerned with ’softer’ concerns was plain to see . These then, must be clubbed with the boorish mountain climbers from abroad who desecrated these revered slopes with the specious excuse of climbing mountains because they are there. So, in my humble opinion, a good mountaineer cares about what heis doing, is knowledgeable about all around him, including nature, geology, the people and their small concerns and acts to minimise his ecological footprint in the mountains. He approaches the mountains with a sense of reverence, not with a desire to sate his ambitions. We need more Shiptons; we want no Hunts.

Lammergeier on a Indian postage stamp of 1992.

The late Lavkumar Khacher who successfully lobbied to ban entry to the then much-ravished vale of Nandadevi can rest in peace that the bharal lambs still frolic among the profusion of wild-flowers and the Himalayan Griffon still soars overhead searching for unwary marmot or pikas sunning itself in the brief blaze of summer on Sarson Patal – that most heavenly of bugyals in the Himalayas. Only the Nandadevi National Park provides true protection to its denizens – surely this is the finest blessing of the Goddess to her people.

This post is dedicated to the people of Lata, Rini, Peng and all the villages in and around the Nandadevi National Park and Biosphere Reserve, (Image credit:mountainshepherds.prayaga.org)

Image credits for stamps – Col Suresh Bagga (retd).

If you liked this post, dont miss – The Favours of Goddess Nandadevi.

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© Bisti Images, Mumbai, India.
The Hero, Garhwal, Uttarakhand

Little Seema with friends, Garhwal, Uttarakhand

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© Bisti Images, Mumbai, India.
Little Seema with friends, Garhwal, Uttarakhand

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© Bisti Images, Mumbai, India.
Manbar Chacha, Garhwal, Uttarakhand

Mountains are always associated with all that is holy and sometimes also of things supernatural. The rarefied air and dizzying heights permeate an unworldly atmosphere which easily drives away a person’s atheistic beliefs and skepticism which may be the unshakable core of his beliefs while living in the plains. The mountains unsettle you and you begin to feel that perhaps it may be wise to believe just this once, for awhile, at least until one returns safely to civilisation. Events and chance coincidence may reinforce this belief. But as always the mountains return you to civilisation a little humbler and more understanding of your own miniscule standing in the cosmos.

As part of the celebrations of the Golden Jubilee of our College in 1993, the Corps of Engineers of the Indian Army decided to try their hand at Nandadevi, 7817 metres high, located in a protected valley between Garhwal and Kumaon, close to the Tibetan border. Nandadevi, that most beautiful of peaks, outshining in splendour all other Himalayan mounts of greater height. Nandadevi, that holy mountain, second only in holiness to Kailas, the abode of the Gods. Nandadevi which resisted every attempt to find a path from the Milam road to her feet for over fifty years, from the first attempt in 1883, right until Shipton and Tilman reached it in 1934. Two years later Tilman and Odell climbed the mountain for the first time. Tilman served with the Bengal Sappers in World War II.

The majestic peak of Goddess Nandadevi

In the fifties, an American mountaineer, Willi Unsoeld, awestruck at his first glimpse of the magnificient Goddess, had vowed to name his then yet unborn daughter after this most beautiful of mountains. He returned in 1976 with his daughter, Nandadevi Unsoeld, and the Goddess had taken her for her own. The last time in 1980, when the Sappers had attempted to climb the peak, the Goddess had denied them her blessings and they had returned safe but unsuccessful, thwarted from an altitude of 7600 metres. As that grand old mountaineer, Mr GK Sharma of the MES, told me, “we could not have defied the obvious signs of bad weather, since the Goddess, who is a manifestation of Shiva’s consort, Parvati, is not known to take kindly to defiance.” A couple of years after that, the paratroopers had climbed Nandadevi, but not a single summitter returned alive.

Nandadevi, is surrounded by a cohort of supplicants, the lesser peaks of Dunagiri, Changabang, Rishipatthar, Trisul, Nandaghunti, Nandakhat, Mrugthuni and Maiktoli, who form a more or less an impenetrable ring around her. Too many expeditions into the catchment of the Rishiganga, which arises from the bosom of Nandadevi peak, had ravaged the fragile ecology and as a result in 1988 the govt had declared Nandadevi off limits by making it a National Park with the mountain in the core zone and had also designated the area around the National Park as a Biosphere reserve. And so Nandadevi had been left severely alone for five years by mountaineer, forester and poacher alike. It was obvious to the team right from the beginning that success would depend greatly upon luck, as you may call it, or the Goddess’ blessings as we called it. We hoped she would give her blessings since we were not only climbing, but also carrying out a complete ecological study and also cleaning all the trash left by previous expeditions. Yours truly was put in charge of the wildlife and ecologicy guys, but that’s another story.

Nandadevi is served by only one entry point – a high altitude track leading from the bugyals of Lata Khadak and Belta Khadak, on the outer slope of the watershed in the west, across a precarious track to the Dharansi pass and to the first campsite – a picturesque vale called Dibrughetta. A pioneering effort to enter the sanctuary by Capt Vivek Gupta, found the Dharansi pass was snowbound and impenetrable in late April forcing Maj VK Bhatt, our expedition leader, to enter the sanctuary through the Rishiganga gorge; we would need to cross the Rishiganga five times before we hit the traditional beaten trail at Dibrughetta.

After much wangling and a lot of luck, the expedition got the vitally important clearance required from the State Govt and the team moved from, where it had arranged its administrative loads and rendezvoused at the Bengal Sappers Centre at Roorkee. After much feting by the Bengal Sappers, the team moved off to Joshimath, in time for the traditional opening of the Badrinath road and the blessings of that deity were obtained by all. Daily training treks now began to Auli to toughen the members who received as a daily reward the ‘darshan’ of the mountain from the ski slopes of that famous winter resort.

In the last week of April, the team staged forward to Lata village, for all practical purposes, the gateway to Nandadevi. Lata village stands poised on the western slope above the Malari road on the western slope. The track to the high altitude bugyals of Lata and Belta Khadak begins here. Very importantly, the temple of Lata village is consecrated to the goddess Nandadevi herself, so the team came here first of all to propitiate the Goddess. The prayers were accompanied by vows of abstinence by the complete team of liquor and cigarettes. The entire team felt that it was on a pilgrimage to pay homage to the this holy devisthan. We prayed that the Goddess had accepted our offerings. Since the roadhead was Lata, a couple of jawans remained there throughout the expedition as a radiolink. More about them later.

The expedition began on 01 May 93 with a stiff march up the Rishiganga along steep pine slopes of the Raunthi forest on the southern bank. On the morning of our third day, we had our first river crossing. A few logs felled zig zag across the river between rockfalls in the stream bed, with a single horizontal rope for help in balancing, was all the support one got to cross the river. Balancing precariously the team began to cross carefully. At mid-morning however, a porter carrying a gas cylinder, slipped and fell into the torrent. The body could not be recovered. Naturally, a grim mood settled on the team. While writing the sitrep, Maj Bhatt asked the porter’s mate as to what name this crossing place was known by. He replied ‘Kalikona’ (Corner of Goddess Kali).

There was pin drop silence as both the expeditioon members and the villager porters realised that no propitiation had been done before crossing at that spot to Goddess Kali who signifies the destructive aspects of Shakti. This was invariably the practice in the past, but since the sanctuary had been closed so many years hence, even the porters who belonged to that area had forgotten about it! It looked as if the Goddess Kali had taken a ‘jivdaan’ herself when it appeared that she had been forgotten. The performing of the puja accompanied by a ritual sacrifice of a goat lifted everybody’s spirits and returned the previous vigour and enthusiasm to all concerned. And true to reputation, this and all subsequent river crossings were attempted successfully without untoward incident. Coincidence or divine intervention – this was the first manifestation of the supernatural.

As one penetrated deeper into the sanctuary, the landscape and mountain light took on a unreal clarity and brightness. The air was fresher, the breeze colder, the morning sunlight sparkled off the dew drops and glistening streams bubbled between rocks. As we climbed higher – the vegetation changed. Oak and deodhar forests were replaced by stands of pine and birch and later by hedges of dwarf rhododendron and finally by large meadows of wild flowers. Ghorals, which populated the cliffs above the Rishiganga, were replaced first by musk deer at Dibrughetta and the next few marches and then by Bharal or Blue Sheep above the tree line. The ravens at the roadhead vanished and that ubiquitous companion of high altitude, the yellow-billed chough made its presence felt. On the alpine meadow of Sarson Patal, rare snow apollo butterflies flew amongst the myriad wild flowers. Everywhere old skulls of bharal interspersed with dried scats spoke of the mysterious and elusive snow leopard.

Reaching Sarson Patal requires two days of stiff climbing. The first day, we ascended Swarg Sidi (Ladder to Heaven), a razor-thin path skirting steep cliffs over deep gorges which had just enough space to place your boot and where fixed rope and pitons had to be placed for us to climb. This lethal path is one of the most dangerous spots in the Himalayas. However, we felt the Goddess’ favour on a number of occasions. No matter how carefully you traverse, a slip on rubble or overbalancing while crossing a bush protruding from the rock-face may become a headlong descent into a turbulent river deep below. Yet each time, there was a timely hand of support or jerk of the rope or an icepick extended in anticipation and our large column of mountaineers and porters climbed the stairway to heaven safely. I was myself saved on more than one such occasion. The second day we stepped around a veritable devil’s maze of sharp rocks and chasms, as we crossed Patal Khan, the mine of slate. Again, we negotiated this obstacle with supreme confidence and more importantly without injuries. None of us could deny that divine favour shone upon us.

The base camp was reached and camps established smoothly. The establishment of camps and upward ascent began smoothly and on 13 Jun at 0320 hrs, the summit team, comprising Maj Amin Naik, Capt Anand Swaroop and Mr GK Sharma, was poised at Camp IV for the attempt on the summit. The Goddess gave the team one shot at success and they set off at and climbed the peak at 1710 hrs. Maj (now Maj Gen) Amin Naik recalls, ”When we reached the top, it was completely white bound. We could not see the mountains all around us. We planted the flag, thanked the Goddess, took photographs and immediately began our descent back while the weather was good. We reached back only at 2330 hrs!”

The Goddess had favoured them en route – Amin Naik had a very close call when he slipped just short of the summit but could miraculously recover on his own. On the return back, the Goddess allowed the exhausted climbers to reach back safely – a privilege she had denied the Paras in 1982.

The summit team had sent a success signal at around 1730h on the short range radio set to base camp. Base Camp in turn relayed this wonderful news to the ecological team who were at Ramani to relay it to Lata and then onto Joshimath and New Delhi. By the time, the radio message could be passed to me at Ramani through the crackle of the ether, it was dark and around 1845. After much trouble I could get through to the Lata radio detachment. On getting through, they immediately congratulated me profusely, which came as a surprise to me, but I assumed that somehow the message must have got through. Almost immediately the fog came down and our communications also snapped. I put the matter outside my mind.

The very next day the monsoon broke and since we had already climbed the mountain and finished our ecological studies, the leader called off the expedition. Since the Rishiganga was now a monstrous torrent which could not be negotiated under any circumstances, we returned via the traditional Dharansi route which was now clear of snow. On the 21st, the expedition marched into Lata and camped down at the confluence of Rishiganga and Dhauligangs on a flat bank below Rini village for rest and celebrations. The main celebration was a tremendous campfire dinner with the porters and villagers of Lata and Rini. The villagers sang Garhwali folk songs and the school children danced their traditional dance to the Goddess! I still remember them saying ,”Nandadevi <something something>, godi mein Lata Reni”.

We plied the villagers with rum while they plied us with their traditional rice-beer and rice-wine. I found myself standing next to the signal NCO who was in charge of Lata village. I remembered and asked him – how come he had come to know of the success of the exhibition before I told him.

He said ”Sahab, we were sitting in the temple courtyard that afternoon and around 5 O’clock, all at once, the bells began ringing. Since there was no one inside the temple, we were amazed. The villagers started jumping around with joy saying ‘Nandadevi Mataji ne darshan diya’. We then climbed the ridge and looked at the mountain. It was stormy, with thunder and lightning all around, as if the mountain itself was celebrating! We realised that this must be the case and hardly had I got back when your call came through!” The village patwari of Lata hastened to corroborate these events.

Divine providence? I like to think so. The Goddess had shown her favour to the team who returned safe and sound having achieved all their objectives and bringing back over a thousand kgs of garbage from the mountain.

Notes

• Image of Nandadevi – author Anirban C8. Used under Creative Commons Sharealike 3.0. See Wikimedia Commons Sourcepage
• MES – military Engineering Service, the parent organisation of Mr GK Sharma.
• darshan – audience, as that given by a religious head to his congregation.
• bugyal – high altitude meadow.
• sitrep – situation report.
• jivdaan – ritual sacrifice of a living creature.
• puja – religious worship ceremony.
• Deodhar – Himalayan Cedar (Cedrus deodara)
• ghoral – Himalayan Ghoral (Naemorhedus goral), a goat-antelope.
• bharal – Blue Sheep (Pseudois nayaur)
• patwari – village headman.

Don’t forget to read – Sarson Patal.