Samatva

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

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.

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.