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Kullu Dussehrah

When the whole town is a temple, Kullu Dussehrah

Kullu Dussehrah. Temples of Himachal …11.

Kullu has long decoupled from Manali.

The thin riverside town doesn’t look pretty with narrow streets and its general untidiness is a misfit with the rest of Himachal. It has its glory though, for a week every year during Kullu Dussehrah. Kullu excels in the tradition of Devtas. Each village was a small kingdom with its own Devta and the tradition continues till today. The devtas resemble a vertical plate – all gold we hear. The Devtas advise and mediate; and fix every joy and address every sorrow. People say even elections are decided before polling by the Devta, with a sacrifice of a goat.

Raghunathji in Kullu is the presiding devta, with a legacy tracing back to Ayodhya. Each year, Raghunathji invites all the Devtas to Kullu, for a week. Even today, the District Magistrate writes a formal letter to each Devta on behalf of Raghunatji, inviting them to Kullu. The Dussehrah starts on the day it ends in rest of India, on Vijayadasami, and continues for a week after that.

The deities arrive on foot to Kullu, carried by villagers, around 225 each year. They visit Raghunathji and make their way to the large ground in Kullu. Each Devta has a designated area; and the villagers live, cook, eat and celebrate with their deity for a week.

I first saw the last day of Kullu Dussehrah in 2017 for a brief while; and then resolved to come back. Last year, I managed a whirlwind trip to see the opening day. The festivities are remarkable; the stream of Devtas and pilgrims paying respect to Raghunatji; then march their way through narrow and steep alleys to the ground. The joy and revelry at the ground in the evening. Women dressed in Kullu fineries. Children awestruck at the chaos which no You Tube can show.

If you want to live a festival with no center of gravity, think of Kullu., the coming together of 200+ deities in one place. There is raw festivity, colours, noise, crowds and celebration.

After all, these seven days, the whole town is a temple.

Dhankar Monastery

Coming out of Mud, Dhankar

Dhankar. Temples of Himachal….7.

Spiti is sparsely populated. It is part of a district that has 3 people per sq km that makes up for less than a percent of India’s density. I was sold on this area by one of the earliest outlook travellers books on Himachal. It had a trek called Spiti left bank trek. I stepped out with an ambition to do it solo.

Once I reached Spiti, I quickly gave up on the trek idea. The heights, landscape and desolation scared me off the solo idea. The trip became a slow travel over ten days or so. Dhankar was one of the stops.

It is a monastery on a ridge line and makes for spectacular views. It is on a mud cliff, all sides and edges ragged by raging winds; and then snow that drags the mud down every season. It looks like a giant termite mound as a result. The location overlooks the confluence of two great rivers, Pin and Spiti, which eventually become the Sutlej.

I reached by afternoon and then ran into a small group of very serious young photographers from Karnataka. They use only the morning and evening sunlight and were maniacal in their attention to detail.

Next morning, they decided to climb up the mountain further to get an early morning shot of the monastery and I went along with them. The monastery itself is at about 12500 feet and we went some bit higher. The Sun slowly crept up on the ridge line and the shadows receded, lighting up the monastery.

Dhankar has other distractions, a short hike to a mountaintop plateau with a lake. An abandoned Santro car, since towing it to Manali is not worth the salvage value, a really cost monastery hostel, budding monks and great food.

I also realised that Hrishikesh Sagar, one of the serious photographers, is a wonderful wildlife enthusiast, and his photos are a pleasure to see, everytime.

Coming out of Mud. Dhankar Monastery, Spiti, Himachal Pradesh

Sarahan temple

One of her kind, Bhimkali at Sarahan

Most temples in Himachal are small. That is the burden of the terrain. There are a few exceptions. Sarahan is one. It is on the Sutlej valley, just before the famous Kinnaur district. Once the road from Shimla drops down to the Sutlej valley, the drive is magical. It hugs the river for the entire stretch until it reaches a place called Jeori. A branch road climbs up to Sarahan. A paramilitary camp is on the way to Sarahan. I was about to cross the camp on a bike, and was waved down. I was a bit tentative, it was a hired bike and I didn’t know what to expect. Then the soldier offered me tea. The camp serves tea to everyone who passes by. He was chatty, but giving zero details of what was the camp about; and there are strict warnings of no photographs. High up on the hills, about 800 meters above the river valley is Sarahan. It has the Bhimkali temple, one of the Shakti Peeths in India. It also has a fearsome reputation of human sacrifice until 17th century, but these stories can be mere legends. It is a really large temple in the mountains. A beautiful mix of stone, wood and slate, it both stands out and blends into the landscape. A lovely perimeter, small shrines and two tall towers. The deities are at different levels. There is also a small guest house within the temple that is open to public. Sarahan is also a beautiful hill country. There are endless small roads around Sarahan, leading to no place in particular. There is also a pointless manmade park amidst all the natural beauty, made maybe because there was a budget for doing something. I went to Sarahan in August, when the whole region is covered by clouds and mist. Anywhere around Sarahan is a great visual treat. Visibility beyond a hundred feet was just a pale haze. Every now and then the mist would clear a bit and I could a bit more of the hills. Towards evening, it settled rapidly; and the Sutlej river lifted itself into view appearing out of the mist. It was also apple harvest season. Anywhere you walk, you can stretch your hand and pick an apple. If you are lazy, you can also help yourself from crates of plucked apples left on the road; trucks would come at their own schedule to pick them up. For some reason, I had carried Rain, the first book written by my friend Sriram. I finished the book while I was in Sarahan. The monsoon, the solo trip, and the general forlorn character of Sarahan was a beautiful complement to the theme of the book. If you have two days around Shimla, visit Sarahan; and if you can spare three hours for great prose, read Rain by Sriram; preferably together.Bhimkali temple at Sarahan