Monkey trouble

No offence, but Hanuman was a nuisance at Ashok Vatika. Alright, he was a secret agent and an under-cover spy cum messenger and all that but like any other member of his clan was a trouble to aesthetics. Ever since monkeys have begun to sabotage my garden, my sympathies for Ravana and his gardener too have started to take a prominent shape.

They come stealthily at any hour and move around innocently to find out if the ground is safe for some monkey business. Once the inspection is over, hordes and hordes of vanars head towards my pagan Eden — a procession that reminds me of the pictures of the great migration at the time of partition; corpulent chiefs walking grimly as philosophers behind the last of the sloth stricken elders. The younger ones, the enthusiastic teens, the zealous adolescents and the chivalrous youth all take each other on to who would do the greatest damage.

They eat up young shoots of hydrangea and mince its white flowers under their feet/hands. They chew tender rose buds without once chidden by the thorns that always run my fingers through even as I pluck out the weed. Some tiny tots jump on the rat ki rani bush until branches bend permanently to an unnatural angle, or they get bored and go on to climb the little Christmas tree that has remained a ‘little’ Christmas tree as the ‘little’ monkeys never allow it to grow past its littleness.

When finally they get noticed and are cursed upon under terrifying shouts and tall staffs, they retreat to their neverland with groans and coughs leaving behind a garden of sacrilege and a lot of monkey poo.

Ravana was a great demon (no pun intended) but it is instances like these that win him supporters. I have reasons to believe that his garden was dearer to him than even the reverend mother Sita. First, he was a father figure to Ashok Vatika and had seen it grow, while Sita was a new comer and a captive at that — can you ever imagine loving your captive more than your daughter! Second, Ashok Vatika had far more attendants to take care of it than Sita mayya —why would you give an over the edge importance to your garden over the woman you want to woo! Third, thanks to Sagar’s Ramayan I know the Ashoka Vatika was guarded by a whole team of skilled security personnel, including women officers (hmm so you get reminded of Gaddaffi after all) and Sita’s security was handed over to a couple of employees of the same agency —you guard the garden in order to protect it from birds and monkeys, but Sita’s security was to keep her from running away.

Had Hanuman only been an intelligent diplomat of the Yes Minister brigade, he could have easily fetched Sita along with a life time supply of bananas as extortion barter in exchange of leaving Ashoka Vatika to itself. But he did not do so. Why? Why did he choose chaos over order? Even Robert Langdon would have no answer. But I know why! It is the age old itch of a monkey, the impish sadism that we often notice in their great grandsons and our contemporaries — Bajrang dal(is).

Now every time I run after a bunch of monkeys to scare them away from my garden, they khau khau me as a reminder that it’s their legacy, every garden in the world; look at what their ancestors did a couple of yugs ago. Why, O why did you set an example so fiendish, Hanuman ji!!!

Intoxicated By Nature: Crank’s Ridge

A black meandering road, as steep at points as Shiva’s cascading hair, runs through the Kasardevi temple to the town of Almora, and on the way slows down over the Crank’s Ridge. Once popular as the Hippie Hill, the ridge is spread some picturesque 6 Kms from the town, and still holds the traces of the early 70s’ air when loaves of brown bread and bottles of peanut butter were a rarity to be found only among the visiting foreigners, in some nooks and yet some corners. The green ridge is located at an elevation of 6500 ft. on the sunny side, overlooking the beautiful Himalayas that glitter with every sunrise and blush a crimson red at sunsets.
In the 1920s and 30s the place was frequented by artists, writers and spiritual seekers, who came here to invoke their respective muses, and draw transcendental inspiration from the rustic surrounding. The first fountainhead of Indian tradition in the west, Swami Vivekananda came here way back in the 1890s and spent some time meditating in a cave near the Kasardevi temple. Notable western Tibetan Buddhists, W. Y. Evans-Wentz and Lama Angarika Govinda made Almora their home and practiced meditation at several places on the ridge. Hollywood actress Uma Thurman(then a little kid) with her Buddhist scholar father Robert Thurman spent six months with Lama Govinda as a part of his doctoral dissertation in the summer of 1971. Although there is no evidence, some locals press that the Beatles too visited the place during their stay at Rishikesh with Maharishi Mahesh Yogi; while Bob Dylan’s visit is a documented fact.
What is it that so compellingly lures tourists-in-search-of-peace to the Crank’s Ridge? Geologically there is an alleged gap in the Van Allen Belt above the ridge, which apparently makes it a less strained area with a relatively eased magnetic tension. Easy and abundant availability of hemp on the slopes makes it yet attractive to the weed loving post hippie crowd that likes to spend time in quiet, solitary confinements of nature. Almost a 1000 ft. above the Almora town, the weather at the ridge is a constant pleasure in summers, and a delightful heaven for those who love winters. Practically, it has achieved such credibility through the word of mouth of the already-been tourists, and more and more tend to follow.
The most common sight for one walking on the ridge near the Kasardevi temple is that of a lonely yogi sitting sometimes at the upper temple gate; sometimes wandering in the jungle with a radio set close to his ears listening to cricket commentaries. Often foreigners− mostly Israelites now, instead of Austrians as before− pass one by with a “Namaste” and a simple grin. Ask them and they will tell you what brings them to Almora and particularly to Crank’s Ridge in their gesticulating jerky English, in expressions that are more than flattering. Nathan, a ‘weed’ as he calls himself says, “The mountains speak to me here,” bringing his half-cupped fist close to his left ear. “I used to go to Dharamsala every year, but now I like to stay here all the time,” he says patting his adopted stray dog.
Many locals have converted their homes to petty hotels where foreigners stay their visas out. Indian tourists prefer to reside in luxury resorts that have bloomed into good business in quite a little time. Fortunately, the ambience has managed to remain as serene as ever. It is still the Pine and Cedar trees that make the most noise, and not vehicles and men. It is one of those places that bolster our wounded spirits and recharge our energies. One must go there for a dose of intoxicating nature.

Humble Porch of Buddhism in Almora

One of the most attractive religions—inviting enthusiasts to pay a visit and leave without a hint of conversion—in the world is Buddhism. An enormous literature notwithstanding, it remains an enigmatic sect largely because of the patronized language—the remote Tibetan. The scripts on walls and boards of monasteries promise an artistic mysticism inside. And many people enter the gates with sheer curiosity rather than any religious fervour.
Among other Buddhist gomphas or monasteries in Kumaon, one at Almora is as candid and quiet in a corner as anywhere else. The serpentine bumpy road to Binsar, at a 6 odd KM distance from Almora town, turns at a beaten path that leads one to the same spot where Lama Anagarika Govinda decided to settle for good almost eight decades ago in 1933. The monastery then was a tranquil stone structure managed at quite a small level by Kungang Rigjan (pronounced as Rigzing). Rigjan was a Tibetan Buddhist monk who had a jewel of an offering for Lama Govinda—the Tibetan word. Instructed thoroughly in Pali in Sri Lanka, Lama Govinda found an almost independent school of Buddhism in Tibetan literature. And everything learnt prior to the Almora experience glided back to pose as an important backdrop. What was to follow was as magnanimous as the order of ‘Arya Maitreya Mandala’.
Today the monastery is made to look stronger and even somewhat modern on the outside with cement plasters and glass, but the insides have the same echo of thousands of years of Jatakas and ancient wisdom. As one leaves the asphalt concrete for the afore-mentioned beaten path, the upward trek comes to a halt pretty soon at the gate with symbols from Buddha’s first teaching in the Deer Park, Sarnath also called the Dharmachakra Parivartan (two deer sitting on either sides of a wheel, looking up to it in reverence). A closely cropped grass field, inside, leads one to the monastery, that is being looked after by monk Konchok Dhenphel these days.
Standing enviably tall at the young age of 33, Dhenphel is already a punctilious monk. He is the eldest son of the family and was sent to study Buddhist theology in Bangalore about 22 years back. Having completed his basic education there, he left for Dehradun after 7 years, where he studied under the ‘Drkung’ tradition and began to practice as a junior monk. The monastery at Almora follows the same ‘Drkung’ tradition with their holy Guru Drkung Kugun Rypund residing at Dehradun. It has been a year since his return; he is young and has an interesting, fresh outlook of Buddhism.
According to Denphel, Kungung Rigjan’s wife Sonam Chodon was adopted by Lama Govinda after the former’s death. She was looked up to by the entire Tibetan clan in Almora, and was venerated as Holy Mother after his demise in 1985. At the backyard of the monastery stands a stupa with the last earthly remains of Kungang Rigjan buried under. Close by is also a bigger stupa dedicated to Lama Govinda (beside that of Sonam Chodom), who’s ashes albeit are contained in the Nirvana Stupa in the district of Darjeeling.
Also in the neighbourhood is a meditation centre with a unique curriculum. The course is not just another one for rejuvenating wandering souls, it spans to a somber 3 years, 3 months and 3 weeks time, adding to a total of about 1206 days. Three groups have already passed out and a fourth one is in the middle of its term. The students are not allowed to walk out of the meditation centre. Only in exceptional cases like yajnas and other poojas which they are allowed to attend, can they come out to the monastery, otherwise even that is prohibited. The present batch has a motley crowd of 16 students, none of whom are from India. Dhenphel says, “Most people interested in attending the meditation course are from outside India. Most of them come from South Asian countries like Taiwan, Singapore and Bangkok. Many from the west are queued to enroll in the next session.”
The trainer in the meditation centre is not same as the priest in the monastery, although he is the only one who’s allowed inside. There are special trainers with immense experience and excellence in delivering the technical and spiritual nuances of vipasana meditation.
Being very time consuming the locals can not attend the meditation sessions, but some often go to the monastery and spend hours in the quiet atmosphere. It is the most low-profile places in Almora, but if tumbled to, is probably one of the most attractive. No wonder foreign visitors go there and recommend the same to their friends back at home. It is time that Kumaonis themselves start exploring it.

The Swan Song

Few plunged at the opportunity of exploiting the golden void that suddenly developed with drapes falling down off Jaswant Singh’s book. The BJP, already in the mourning, was so taken aback that the otherwise politically hungry wolves’ attacks were seized by a double edged instrument of violence that was held by a razor-sharp butt by the party itself. The instrument did strike Singh but also imparted a deep wound on the BJP that will remain open and bloody for a long time to come.
If there is someone enjoying this the most it is the media, for they are making the least noise about it, and against their notorious tradition, are keeping away from passing an objective judgment. A sly decision—with the music of impatience growing all around(even in Pakistan)—to use the still hot embers of the situation in the barbeque to present a grilled and crispy debate over the credibility of Jinnah’s secular image. Something that would have otherwise fizzed out with a book review and probably an editorial had it been scribbled out of the quill of an historian, has provided food for some more hunger in the present case.
Back in the BJP the picture is nastier than it appears to the rest of us. Kulkarni’s resignation in the midst of denials at holding any reference to Singh’s expulsion is only the beginning; what follows is only too predictable. One who’s been keenly observing the party for some time now will hardly find it difficult to look at the pattern of the dominoes in motion. If Bajpayee ji’s departure from active politics was the beginning of the end, this is the soprano of the knell. The unsinkable has begun to repeat history, and there are not many life boats on board.