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| Dwaraka |
I am convinced once again that tourism in India is basically temple tourism. Majority of other attractions are ill maintained, badly managed, difficult to approach, too stressful to enjoy. Incredible India is truly incredible on screen. The amount of enthusiasm shown in making films is hardly seen in maintaining them. Our interest aroused by Big B captivating add on Gujarat has been watered down to zero on the very onset. Don't we ever decimate our third world trajectory? Seems sixty years have not made much difference. Things are not very different from what they used to be.
Our long planned trip to Saurashtra took off in the right time as per my common sense. But it did not take us too long time to go crazy. We landed in Jamnagar as it was close to our very first destination Dwaraka. The airport was 8 or ten kilometers away from the city and very few taxis were waiting out side the airport. With blink of an eye every taxi vanished in haste even before we made up our mind about their pricing. We began to understand that Once you miss a taxi it is almost standing in the desert alone wating for abatement until the arrival of next flight which could even take a day. Our enthusiasm to see the town of Jamnagar vanished and sole botheration remained how to reach Dwaraka. We got into one last available taxi to search for transportation to Dwaraka. The condition of taxis was bad. We were dropped at the dusty market place called taxi stand in the town of Jamnagar. We were tempted to enquire about bus facility looking at the taxi's condition. The bus stand was in shambles. Air conditioned buses were unheard of. The available buses were very basic and overcrowded Fearing draining of our hard built energies we did not venture into busses. We negotiated a four wheeler called taxi which was precariously smoking from inside. At one moment I got doubt whether it caught fire. Understandably the driver was lighting his agarbathi to deodorize the interiors as well to pray. I had no inclination to believe that the taxi was air conditioned. He was kind enough to switch on the small fan hung between front and rear seats. The condition of the roads was far from satisfactory. We reached our destination and checked into government tourist bungalow.
Dwaraka is a typical beach town , peaceful, sandy, and elusively charming. The town reportedly cursed by Durvasa maharshi had no water. But we had enough to drink and bathe (Thank you, Modi Saab !) We found our way to the temple. It was magnificent. All the western Indian temples carry some charm with them. The temple domes are oval in shape and necessarily carry a flag on the top. The temples are either built with marble or sand stone. Inside Drarakadeesdh temple few structures were as old as fourteenth century though some parts are no older than 19th century. The idol was small but beautiful. Torans form important part of temple architecture in Gujarat. Unlike southern temples 'aarti' carries lot of value to the devotees and they throng to watch it either by climbing the temple pillars or some body's shoulders.If you cannot wrestle with people it is impossible to have a glimpse. Bhog offered to the lord were elaborate . We were back searching for our chappal and conspicuously we don't find any arrangement for keeping chappal in Gujarat temples baring few. The reasons might be either people are rich enough not to eye for mean things like chappal, or they fear some curse from God. My observation about Brahman community here is that they commands good respect and they don't live in penury like in some parts of India. They look radiant and well built.
The food in Saurashtra is mild and tasted good for vegetarians like me. Oninons too were taboo in food preparations and by no way it deters the taste. Tourist Bungalow manager was kind enough to arrange for taxi for our entire tour. Next day morning when I set out I was wished by an taxi driver who wore lots of beads and threads around his neck. He wore a bold tilak on his fore head. I am not sure whether he was either Dwivedi or Trivedi but certainly "Khaike pan Banaraswala" . We proceeded to Byte Dwaraka where Lord Krishna's abode was supposed to be. On the way we visited one Jyothirlinga temple Nageswar. I do not think that not many from other parts of India would take pains to go to Nageswar but for the reason that it is in close proximity to Dwaraka. The Shiv Ling was truly ancient and carries great vibrations. The surroundings of the temple were least impressionable and lack sanitation. The road leading to Byte Dwarka from Dwaraka was difficult to tread. Byte Dwaraka is actually an island and people need to travel in boat to reach the place. Numerous boats are put into service by the private individuals and each boat carries hundreds of pilgrims to the temple island. As a rule each boat carries double or triple their capacity, and literally you leave half the hope of survival while travelling in it. The people over there blissfully never heard of life jackets and rescue operations. Who is killing you? and who is being killed ? The teachings of Gita seemed to be guiding principles prevailing over there. The spirit of India ? Might be... The spirit that could possibly can Cruise one through devastation and desperation. The Lord Krishna in his abode was cute and adorable. He is not being imprisoned in temple. You find all around only Prakara (compound wall) with no roof and he looks like standing in Gavakha (window) After all it his house ! The archological escavations done under the sea around Byte Dwaraka give testimony to once a great city of Dwaraka that flourished and eventually submerged ! !
We began our journey to Porbandar.. the place which I longed to see. I had Richard Attenborough in my mind. The house which I saw in film " Gandhi" and other documentaries, the long corridors supported by wooden pillars, the tiled roof etc..etc... But I don't see any thing there ! The Gujarat government has improvised his house and renamed as "Kirti Mandir" . The corridors were shining with bright marble. The wooden pillars were replaced by huge marble pillars. I presume that flooring too was replaced. The rare photos of Bapuji were neatly arranged in wooden Almira. There were hundreds of photographs which were pasted with glue and preserved . I guess this is not way they should be preserved. To recreate the past ambiance is not in our dictionary. We do not know how to respect the past. Past has clinched us for long. We want to unshackle from past and seek new vistas.. We think that the more we spent money on memorials the more respect is being shown to the departed souls. I was happy to see rare photographs yet .. I could not feel him. I had a feeling that I need not go all the way to Porbandar to see what I have seen. I was left with a hope that I could make it in Sabarmati. Next day we had been "Sudhama" (Krishna's friend) temple. We did not dare to seek the blessings of dozing Pandit over there.. We were suggested to visit "Sandeepani". The "Sandeepani" of Porbandar is being built by God men Ojha. While Sudhama hails from Porbandar, the original Sandeepani Ashram was said to be in Ujjain. The Sandeepani constructed in Porbandar was huge, clean palace like prayer hall surrounded by impressive locales. The old Kings and queens lost their palaces and they were replaced by palaces built and owned by swanky God men.
We travelled along the long coastal corridors to reach Somnath, the historic temple which was time and again destroyed by invaders. The temple which evokes mixed feelings like and admiration for Indian resilience and undeserving abundant patience shown by Indians towards other faiths. The route seemed to be very clear and hassle free. We could hardly see a bus run by the state government during our journey. Neither we saw trucks carrying loads. The frequently found mode of the transport was bullet motorcycle transformed into a four wheeler carrying not less than ten villagers. We stopped in between to visit few less important places and temples. The overall prevailing Sanitary conditions over there looked marginally better than southern towns. Rarely we came across agricultural fields. The long coastal belt neither had many cocnut grooves. The people were better dressed. Hardly we found anybody in rags. Most of the people find it difficult to speak Hindi, let alone English. They were least complaining. Contentment in their faces can be felt. People were found to be extremely religious and barely aggressive. They were apparently law abiding in comparative all India standards. I am seeing soul of India which is far away.. and different from urbane India. Even temples don't attract beggars here ! Commercial activity seem to be very little. Yet people seem to be living above poverty line ! I need to look into the economics thoroughly to know the reasons. States are separated just by boundaries. People speak different languages. But the heart of India is the same every where. The same happy innocent faces, the same withdrawn smiles, the the same ignorance, the same basic living, the same loudness. Town are dusty, and least attractive. Government has well taken care of their perennial problem.. water !
We reached Somnath while camping at Veravel.. a stinking fisher town. The Somnath temple was well protected due to various security reasons. It is being managed by a thoughtful trust who manage to keep the premises very clean. Each one is thoroughly checked before one gets into the temple. Once you enter you don't see any more crowd conjestion.. Darshan has no hassles what so ever. All around the temple you find circularly built walls adorned with tales of Shiva. The back drop of temple is vast expanses of sea, which can be peacefully watched by sitting on the benches thoughtfully provided by the temple authorities.It feels like excursion spot.To our bad luck the light and sound show shown every day got stuck with problem . After spending some time in the temple, we were out hoping to get a cup of tea or coffee. It was almost like we walked miles to get one cup of coffee. Surprisingly here the people are not so crazy after tea and coffee. Remember Sourashtra was never under direct British rule ! We seem to be the only people who were spoiled by caffeine addiction probably perpetrated by British. Hardly you find a good restaurant. Where all these people eat ?
Next day after another round of Darshan we left Somnath. Somnath ! A temple which was the target for repeated destruction and looting. A place symbolically closer to Hindu heart! Present day Somnath has nothing ancient in it. It lacked the vibrations of what original temple supposedly dissipated.. The remains of the 17th century temple were kept in museum by the government in most precarious manner. Many of the remains unlabelled, found in the compound in close proximity of toilets too . The invaluable pieces of archeology were guarded by a wall not higher than five feet with one unarmed security guard.
We were proceeding to Diu ! A place that gets noticed only when Goa is referred to, but no way closer to it. A place one would never take trouble of travelling from any part India except his being in Sourashtra to grab a bottle of Whisky or wine. We included in our itinerary since we could never make it to Goa. The road leading to Diu from Veravel was pathetic. How any country can boast it's prosperity with out improving it's basic infrastructure ? Shamelessly we look at world bank to lay our roads. Cap the ill conceived expenditure and spend money to connect people. Good roads are sure signs of prosperity.
The outlook of Diu was very different. We can never imagine that our insensible governments would plan this kind of outlay since we are not great believers of ambiance and decorum. The past colonial breeze was in the air. It was looking like small European town. It was cool, calm and green and beautiful like a virgin. Not many vehicles were spotted on the road adding to the serenity of the place. Liquor was flowing every where. The forbidden non-veg food was very much on the platter. Here sea is meant for recreation. Sea view is entreated luxury. The rare Haka trees found only in Diu are uniquely beautiful. Houses for what so ever reason looked new and freshly painted. Portuguese have not left any thing there except dilapidated fort and four hundred years old church close to extinction. People speak only Gujarati and they look and live like typical Gujaratis. The colonialism was just in the smell and still in the air invisibly. Thank God! Fifty years were not enough to spoil it's serenity ! The beaches were clean and seductive. The sand was white and silky. Even fishermen live a better life here.
On the way back from Diu we planned for Gir forest, only place where Asiatic lions live in India. The forest is still preserved and sanctuary office was nice to see. The tours were meticulously planned so that vehicles go in different directions at a particular time. The vehicles provided were leased by the government including the drivers and aged people definitely will find them difficult to climb. The vehicles provided are top less and habitually government being deaf dumb and blind, in exigencies people were left to their fate. We ended up carrying the loose plastic sheet on our heads throughout two and half long tour, half drenched and not a single lion was interested in making encounter with us as it was heavily raining. The end result of Gir expedition was lasting cough and cold.
En route covering Junagadh Fort, and less known Gondal Navlakh Palace and virpur we reached Rajkot the only place which has an urban appeal in Sourashtra. All the places we came across in the route were either swampy or filthy. I wonder why no politician makes dharna for good roads and clean water. But we see them making issues for things which don't concern people. How can we invite the world to come to your country? To show them how filthy we are? How bad is our water ? How unhygienic is our food ? We feel proud of the ancient forts, monuments, temples which modern India has not built. It is painful to see cement being smeared on age old structures as part of preservation. Temples flourish on their own. Devotees throng to them to offer their prayers irrespective of the facilities available. So Governments are absolved from the responsibility of rendering any support to tourism.
Rajkot was buzzing with activity and buildings looked contemporary. The grounds where Ranji played his cricket, the school where Gandhi studied hardly assumed any importance and Karamchand's house was under renovation. Locals themselves have no knowledge of their past. We searched one and half hours to find an Internet cafe. Internet seemed like an alien word to most and they don't believe in it. Technology ! It is still a not big word in some parts of the world and people there efficiently manage without it. In all the probability developed nations suffer from obsessive compulsive disorder.
We took a bus to reach Ahmadabad so that it should be easier for us to reach Hyderabad. As usual State Government seemingly was not interested in developing any transport facilities. The private operators were plying buses every half an hour to Ahmadabad with ease. We reached Ahmadabad in four hours without much discomfort. As we have no hotel reservation we kept on searching for hotels with the help of two auto rickshaw drivers who were in no hurry to desert us. We wanted to utilize the remaining four productive hours time in best possible way . We have decided to utilize it for visiting Akhardham. Sabarmati was stinging in the back of my mind. Kirti Mandir experience was exasperating hence I voted for Akhardham.
The city of Ahmadabad is clean, organised and did not have traffic logjams. People still live in undisturbed peace. The pace at which most metros are slowly turning into hell in terms of traffic, pollution, hygiene and crowds, Ahemdabad has not caught up with them in 25 years as per my sister's observation. Stunted growth too might prove to be good in specific cases. Akshardham was brilliantly sculptured and maintained. The way two hundred year's old clothing and remnants of Swaminarayan were treated and preserved should be an eye opener to the Governments. It should hire the technology if needed to do it's bit to preserve Gandhi, the father of the nation.
I had a crazy thought to visit Sabarmati even before everybody wakes up. I changed my mind looking at the hotel receptionist taking slumber in the lounge at 7'O clock . By nine we had to leave for the airport. Our faithful autowalah is seen in the lounge promptly by nine. Can I think of unknown autowalah being so promptly present in door steps in my town ? As usual coffee was served at leisure, strange! This dirty caffeine is not so important for these people ! While riding to the airport I remembered my "Banaraswalah" taxi driver. I may forget his face sooner. But I can never forget the glitter in his eyes when he received Rs.200 tip. He traveled 1200 kilometers with strangers like us. After couple of days he has become part of our group. Can I meet him ever ? In all the probability never. It feels wonderful to remember people whom we can never meet again. The innocent room boy who knows nothing but Gujarati delighted to serve us no matter what the communication difficulties are. It was gratifying to watch that innocent young face. Was he really keen about taking my ten rupee tip ? No. Bungalow reservation without payment of advance, painstakingly arrange for taxi, planning somebody's tour... why Mr. Joshi, the tourist Bungalow manager should do it for us ? Did he get any thing out of the service rendered ? The answer is big NO. Taking an extra effort, walking an extra mile for others for reasons unknown is the probably the secret of human cognizance. Any part of the world you might surprisingly find this love ! Travel is not just what you see. It is all about what you obtain. I might not have seen great places. But I assume I earned great perspicacity touring the peninsula Kathiawar on the long coasts of pretty turquoise hued Arabian sea.
