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.

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.

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