Samatva

Land’s end at Bharmour

Chaurasi temple of Bharmour. Temples of Himachal ….9.

Bharmour is as far as you will go. It is surrounded by 16000 feet high mountains on three sides, the  hill equivalent of a peninsula. It is at the dead end of a sliver of a valley.  Squeezed between the Dauladhar range and the Pir Panjal range, you can enter the valley by road, but can’t exit anywhere further and have to retrace.

Bharmour contributes to the Ravi river, though it is not the source. Ravi is one of the most secretive rivers of India, hardly flowing through any large city before it snakes along and forms a length of the Indo-Pak border.

The Chaurasi temple at Bharmour is an experience. It is, as far as I can recollect, one of the largest temple complexes of Himachal. It is at a remarkable setting, overlooking hills on all sides. It is open and is not a walled temple and a collection of temples, 84, though many of them are tiny and share a common space.

The central temple is breathtaking. Alongside the temple stands a Deodhar tree, almost double its height. The most delightful part of the complex is the schools in the square. There are several and you can hear the sweet cacophony all around; and then suddenly it was lunch break. Kids poured out of the various schools, jumping into the temple. A cricket match, and a bunch of girls just giggling away. Far away from almost anywhere, there is unspoilt innocence.

Then the farm produce, the Bharmour Rajma, the walnuts, and chukh, the famous red chilly pickle.

Bharmour and the rest of the Chamba district will overawe you, totally bereft of the commercialisation you will see in Manali and Shimla. It is an effort to reach there, but next time you plan Amritsar, take the effort to go up to Chamba, and then Bharmour.

Land’s end. Chaurasi temple, Bharmour, deep inside Chamba district, deep inside Himachal Pradesh.

Hanumanji at hilltop, Shimla

I go to the Jakhoo temple every time I visit Shimla. February 2019 was no exception. I had reached Shimla in the evening and it had soon started to snow. It was a gentle drift which became heavier in the night. I set out very early the next morning to the temple, maybe at 5.30 or 6 a.m. The snowfall had covered the town through the night. The landscape was completely white. The town was still asleep, perhaps saying “Life would anyway be slow, so why rush the morning?” With all the silence, the walk through the soft and sinking snow felt even quieter.

There was a bit of mystery ahead. In normal weather, the steep climb to Jakhoo takes just over thirty minutes. It snows heavier near Jakhoo and I was not sure if the route was even open. With legs sinking in calf deep snow, I was making only slow progress, but cheerful progress. The route was open but there were no other footmarks on the snow. The snowfall had been heavier near Jakhoo and my feet sank almost knee deep. When I reached Jakhoo I was the only devotee.

In warmer times, the climb itself is an experience.  A small board just behind the public library at the ridge challenges you right at the start. It tells you how long you ought to take (age and fitness adjusted!). It is a steep climb for a third of the way winding past a café run by prisoners, some hotels, shops, a Church in disuse and some colonial bungalows. It levels out for the next one third of the way along a large playground and a row of houses. The last one-third is a steep climb on steps. This part is thickly wooded and full of aggressive monkeys. There is a somewhat inconvenient and slightly expensive rope-way. There is also a long winded road that takes you through all of Shimla’s traffic. You can avoid the climb with either of these, but you should climb for the experience and the memories.

The temple is at the top of the ridge and is the highest point in Shimla. It marks the place where  Hanumanji heard Sage Yakoo’s chanting and stopped, before resuming his search for Sanjeevini. The temple complex has a 108 feet tall Hanumanji who looks down at the mall road and Shimla ridge below. The sunrise and the sunset are fabulous at Jakhoo. The slanting rays break through the tree leaves to light up the saffron coloured temple walls from different angles. The shadow of the trees adds to the effect. The evening aarti is great community experience.

The Panditji is of a ripe age and perhaps lives at the ridge itself and must have served Hanumanji for several decades. He serves the devotees tirtha, some prasad, a flower or two and then caringly applies the tika. He picks up every rupee offered to him and puts them in the hundi. Even if it was intended for him, he takes nothing of it for himself.

I had taken my drone along that morning. With freezing and numb fingers I managed to fly the drone for a few minutes. The drone’s eye view of Hanumanji standing amidst the blanket of snow was incredible. But the temperature took its toll. My thin gloves could not stop the cold that quickly turned into searing pain. I rushed down hoping for warmth. Luckily, ten minutes down, where the trail levels a bit to meet settlements, a tea stall was stirring to life. The owner looked at me and lit up a fire. Then brought me a cup of tea. Life came back. I have gone back twice since then for a warmer experience.

Philosophy at a glance, Kardang

Kardang Monastery. Temples of Himachal … 4.

Kardang is one of the many monasteries in Keylong. Probably one of the oldest, the building has been rebuilt maybe several times. It looks quite modern despite being 900 years old.

It is across the Bagha river that flows fast, thin and deep. The walk requires either a steep trek down and up, crossing the river (or) a long winded drive which crosses the river further ahead at Tundi with a gentle, but long drop and climb.

Armed with a scooty, I chose the drive and by evening, reached the monastery. The monastery has several things to see, including the rock carvings that I unfortunately missed. However, the most striking part of the monastery is outside of it. A sitting Buddha, maybe three or four feet tall, made of sandstone that you could mistake to be from Orissa. The Buddha is seated on a pedestal that is chest high, with a small pot of plants next to him. He overlooks the snowy peaks of the north, Ladakh and beyond.

To gaze along Buddha’s line of vision is to live the entire Buddhist philosophy in a single moment. There is absolute nothingness in terms of civilization. The view jumps over all of Keylong, the grassy slopes above it, and the treeless rock faces further above. You see Buddha and then the sharp snow clad mountains at the distance, in one frame.

Few places summarise their philosophy in just the setting. Kardang is one such.

Kardang, across Keylong, Lahual, Himachal.