spirit ~ TRAVEL by Amodini

Photo courtesy: Sorab Irani

mt. girnar in is had repeated dreams of lions and the Jains. There is a famous akhada of sad- Iplace was Girnar. The Gir forest is hus at its base. Many sadhaks and one of the holiest places home of the , and now its advanced souls have laid their lives to last refuge. In one such dream, my guru rest on the mountain, most notably, the of pilgrimage for jains gave me mystical initiation to become Jain tirthankar Neminath, adding to its a in a cave up the mountain, sanctity. It is home to the beautiful Jain and for hindu ascetics while the lions roamed outside. In temple complex on a small plateau, fol- another dream, the lions wandered lowed by the Amba Mata temple on one wishing to pay homage onto a backyard porch on which nes- of the tunks (peak). Then there are tled my workstation, and two of them steps rising and descending to the to , the great came and sat on either side of my PC! Gorakhnath shrine. There is also a spot I was afraid for all the dogs that were venerated as the place of the Pir, sacred guru, worshipped here as roaming around me, in case the lions to Muslims. Girnar is said to have a total hurt them. There was a palpable sense of 10,000 stone steps leading to its top! the formless or unclad of urgency to this dream. Along the last leg of the climb is the I understood the hukum or com- Kamandalu Kund ashram, with steps ascetic. here is an mand that the dreams implied, unable descending to a ledge-like plateau on to put it off any longer. It was barely which it is located. It houses Dattatreya’s account of a a week away from Guru Purnima. I akhand dhuni, the sacred fire of the made enquiries and learnt that the ascetic. The ashram is home to young transformative rains were yet to set in at , from different regions of . where Girnar is located. So I set off According to legend, there was a pilgrimage up its on an impulse with the barest of prepa- major drought in the region, and the rations, on the night train from great guru is said to have hit his kaman- perilous heights Mumbai to . From there it was dalu (brass water canister) on a spot in just a couple of hours on the bus to the the rocks, from where emerged a peren- town of Junagadh, and on to the many nial spring of freshwater, to quench the dharamshalas offering inexpensive thirst of pilgrims. lodgings at the base of Girnar. Then, on the last peak, is the famous Mount Girnar is one of the holiest Dattatreya shrine, open to the elements, of the holies for Hindu ascetics and bearing his footprints clearly etched in

8 life positive march 2005 the rock. He is said to have engaged in giving me a thorough drenching. The and the guru force and all! It was so rigorous tapascharya at the spot for Dattatreya shrine itself is not even knee- crazy to see all the notes offered to the 12,000 years. high, just like our little mandirs at shrine that day floating in a shallow pan home, so that at that great height, you filled to the brim with rainwater! And A gruelling climb are completely exposed to the elements. as I made my offering, he insisted that I set off on the climb at around 5 a.m. I place it right there in the water. as advised by the dharamshala official, Abhishek, a watery initiation By then of course there was Girnarji armed with a sturdy staff to assist me on I couldn’t see a thing through the wall in my heart and in my soul, and later the steep stairs. He instructed me to rest of fog and rain! It was water, water when I thought about it, there was awhile at the ashram close to the sum- everywhere, and the young pujari nothing to ask for or even to pray about mit, before undertaking the last bit of shouted, asking me to sit down, instead at the end of the mercilessly long trek! arduous climb to the top of the moun- of standing there laughing up at the That kind of joy happens just once tain, to visit the shrine of the primordial sky! He thought I’d be blown off the in a lifetime, I think. There were no guru. The first two hundred steps of the mountain top by the strong winds. I thoughts, no worries, nothing... just the ascent along the wooded foothills seemed plonked down besides him, little real- wind, the rain, the sky, the scrupulously to be the most exacting. Then, as the skies ising that there was a flooded pond of clean marble floor beneath my feet, all began to lighten, the climb assumed a chilled water on the floor. The water pure... and a fountain of laughter bub- rhythm of its own, quite enjoyable. just seeped through the clothes right up bling out from the depths of my being, It was a strange experience to be to my waist to give me such a shock that face raised to the sky. walking alone for hours on end with- I let out an involuntary scream. It was It is just not possible to share what out a shelter in sight. I had left far a completely mad moment! I felt in its entirety, carefree, degendered, behind the endless forested foothills The relief of having reached the top just a part of existence, surreal and wet, at the base, rising steadily above the flat- and the amazing abhishek happening at facing God all alone with so much hap- top landscape! the exact psychological moment simply piness. A cleansing, a new birth, a After visiting the temples and shrines chased away all concerns of womanly release... There was no view from up on the way, I made my weary way down decorum or about catching a cold. In that there, mind you, just the fog and the a short descent to rest and make moment I was just a sadhu, sans worry rain, so you could see a few steps ahead inquiries at the Kamandalu Kund about what I’d do without dry clothes at a time! And it was so safe. Or rather, ashram described earlier. It was already until I got back to my secure dharmashala I was without a trace of fear, a being past 1 p.m. It was a great relief to be room at the base the following day! completely in control of my environ- assured by the young sadhu in charge I laughed and laughed with pure joy, ment, destiny, purpose; a gentle being of the ashram that on my way down, flinging my head up to the rain and the of power, self-containment and joy… if I could rest there that night instead of sky, which was a tremendous purging even for just that entire hour. But that having to undertake the steep descent of all my life’s concerns. The pujari also feeling comes back whenever I think of the same day! I knew well by then that started to laugh, touched with the infec- it, and it will stay with me forever. I was simply incapable of it. tious laughter, and we had a long chat On returning to the ashram, a solic- The boys told me with joy that they through the lashing rain about Girnarji itous young man gave me dry and clean felt as though their mother saffron robes to change into had come visiting, and insist- for the night in my room, ed that I should first eat lunch but there was no way that I and rest a bit, before leaving could dry my clothes for the holy shrine located at through the steadily increas- the very top. It was cool and ing downpour that resem- foggy up there, but rains had- bled a cloudburst! n’t yet begun in Gujarat. As I later discovered, Then, just as I climbed up many of the sadhus were the last and final step, to highly qualified engineers. cross the threshold of the Truly, there was such perfect open sanctum at the top, plumbing in the cave

huge drops of rain and then Photo courtesy: Norman Koren ashram, that the rains driv- sheets of it started pouring, complex en by insane high velocity

life positive march 2005 9 winds could not make ingress into the to me a sharp awareness of the extent we interact with remain the same, a ashram precincts, even as the water to which I enjoy my own company. necessary part of our sharing, but we rushed down the steep stairs in a tor- Through it all, there began the emergence are not, because it is a conscious, self- rent. Lord Dattatreya displayed great of a new detached consciousness, with willed sharing, of free choice rather discernment in his choice of sadhus for than bondage. It matters to see people Girnar, I thought to myself. as reflections of our own self, our mis- On my return to the base of the takes, indiscretions, bad judgments, and mountain, I had taken in the fog, wind, also the good within ourselves. Until rain, rocks and the skies so complete- negativities being to loosen their hold ly, it was like being a part of the land- over us, and a little step at a time, we scape, as the natural meditative state learn to laugh at the absurdities of life, continued undisturbed. even through genuine pain and grief. The downpour returned many times There is always that thumb-high part

to soak me, just as the swirling wind Photo courtesy: Norman Koren of our integral consciousness that stays had dried the clothes I was wearing. I Mount Girnar pure and untouched, always, the core can’t tell you of who I met on the way greater understanding of how my every- that creates laughter, release and lib- down, by way of a darshan, but there day actions influence the karmic record. eration. Yes, I’ve been extremely happy were many important spiritual revela- Reflecting on that experience of through most of my life, because of that tions during the journey that have ecstasy, I think happiness is not the being who has been the orchestrator of changed my consciousness forever. absence of pain; rather, it is the ability my life’s path, self-chosen, self-direct- to go to the centre of pain... over a peri- ed for the major part. I think I have And a new consciousness od of time, until it is gradually possible lived life as openly as possible under the I think this strange episode in my life was to diminish and dilute the attachments circumstances, like the unclad man of in the manner of meeting self. It brought that are at the roots of the pain. People the skies —Girnarji! [