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Triund - A Spiritual Adventure - Part 1 - India
by AK | Date >
2006-08-24 | Country : India | City : McLeod Ganj
| Area : Triund |
I had heard about Triund from many people, but what inspired me was something else. A parted lover wrote to me about her trip to Triund and I was mesmerized by her experience, fascinated by her words I decided to visit this deeply spiritual place high in the Mountains of the Dhauladhar Range (North-Western India). Her experience was with a close group of fellow travellers, it was rich with a quality of togetherness and adventure that one finds in the company of like minded companions. I sought a similar experience to shake off the complacency that had settled in my life, I was aching for adventure in a desperate attempt to feel alive, feel the life in my body. I was to have different adventure, one that will stick with me for a long time.
I spent a few weeks trying to get a team of friends together for the trip. I managed to gather/convince 2 close mates ready to travel with me. The designated weekend arrived and went, my mates were busy with worldly duties. Two weeks went by and I decided to serve my fellow travelers an ultimatum. The new travel date arrived, I woke up fresh and ready to leave, packed a small backpack with a few books and some clothing. I felt sorry for my mates as I called a cab to the station, for knew not what they were about to miss, and I didn't realise then what a wonderful journey this would be.
Without a reservation, I reached the Old Delhi train station. I bought a general ticket and proceeded to the Platform. I was travelling on a train after 15 years. I was advised by the friendly ticket seller, to request (persuade) the TT (Ticket Checker) on the train to give me an on the spot reservation on the trian. The Airconditioned coaches were filled to the brim and the TT surrounded by 30 people like me with a general ticket. So I decided not my waste my time and proceeded to the 2nd Class Non A/C coaches, here I found a sikh TT standing outside the coach surrounded by 10-15 people wanting a reservation, I decided not to add myself to the crowd and stood at a distance having a smoke, planning a bus trip should the train leave without me. After a while a tired TT refusing to entertain anymore people started fleeing the scene, I started walking with him, he had noticed me earlier, I approached him smiled and asked him if he had a seat available. He refused at first, and later after hearing where I was headed decided to give me a reservation for part of my trip till Jalandhar (a third of my trip to McLoed Ganj), I happily accepted. I reached my seat to find 8 people sitting on a seat designed for 3. Three of them vacated my seat, and the journey began....
I started talking to my fellow passengers, one was a 24year old father and a business man from Jalandhar, the other a young, newly wed business man going to attend a funeral. We spent the next 8 hours talking, smoking and eating. I offered them cigarettes and they offered my local foods from the different stations that the train stopped. It was a beautiful dark rainy night, a chill in the air. I stood on the door like I used to as a kid and lit a smoke, staring into the dead of the night, now and then lighting would strike revealing for a moment the beautiful country we were passing thru. One bolt of lighting revealed in the pouring rain, a lone tree in the middle of a farm, the picture I cannot explain, once of the most beautiful sight I have seen.
By the time we reached Jalandhar, they had advised me on how to reach my destination and offered free catering and shoes (Newlywed businessman) whenever I wanted. I got off the train and started looking for the TT to begin the next part of my journey, I now needed a reservation to Pathankot (I was born here), which was another 2 hours from Jalandhar. I couldn't find the TT, it was 4 in the morning. So I walked towards the General Coach for which I had the ticket. About 10-15 people were standing outside an overloaded compartment, at first I thought the people standing outside were there to bid farewell to their friend or family leaving on the train, didn't take long to realise that these were the passengers and had gotten off the cramped coach to stretch their limbs, tired of hanging from the bars on the side of the door. Finding comfort in the fact that the journey would last an hour and a half till Chakki Bank (a small staton outside Pathankot), I boarded the coach and found myself a spot to stand next to the door. Here I saw the true face of India, I for the first time met Indian men. Small, lean yet muscular men. Very decent, civilized in their own way, no one looked or stared at me as I looked totally out of place. A few men sitting on the floor next to the door made space enough for me to stand leaning on the opened door. These men had an air of genuinity around them, some were returning home, some going to to work. There were a mix of farmers, peasants, painters, potters, small families with quiet babies. All co-existing without conflict. Cordial in their own subtle way, they made me as comfortable as possible.
Dawn broke and with it brought light to the stunning country of Punjab, blessed by nature, with rich vegetation, wide open landscapes, a treat to the eyes and soul.
What was to be a brief ninety minute trip became relaxed a four hour cruise thru some of the most breathtaking scenery I have ever feasted. The train, which was now local, stopped at small stations giving way to the bigger express trains too fast and hurried to stop and appreciate this wonderful land.
One stop was a small village station with only one almost deserted platform, some people got off, and boarded a Fakir, a man who was'nt a beggar, he demanded what he wanted which wasn't much, ragged clothed, an intelligent face, he had the most calm and intelligent look, personality of a Sufi, an enlightened being he immediately caught my attention and respect. He carried a sack filled with a few belongings. He got on sat on the floor in front of the door, took out a previously put out joint, lit and took a deep drag, then put it out and kept it back in his pocket. We immediately connected, as our eyes met it seemed we knew we were on a similar journey, on the same road, perhaps he was a little ahead of me. His eyes were intense, I felt he was seeing more of me than I did myself. He came up to me and asked for my bottle of soda with so much confidence, I felt it belonged to him, so I took one last sip and return the half filled bottle to its rightful owner. He calmly took the bottle without a look or word of thanks, which by the way I was not expecting, and returned to his spot on the floor next to the door, produced a small cup from his sack, poured the soda and returned to enjoying the passing scenery. In a different setting and clothing he would resemble a great General or Landlord, sipping brandy in crystal from his balcony as he views his conquest in pride.
I was lost in the scenery and the people until a caring fellow traveller, who gathered enough courage to enquire about my destination, reminded me that the train was nearing Chakki Bank, which was where I had to get off to take a Taxi till McLeod Ganj. I was the only one to get off at Chakki Bank, forcing me to wonder if my travel plan was right, as I had hoped to meet other travellers headed for the mountains. I later learned that most travellers had come in on an earlier train and left for McLeod Ganj. There were no taxis left. I was begining to taste the adventure already and was enjoying it even more as the journey presented unxepected turns leading to unknown outcomes. A delecious cup of tea & a smoke with a friendly taxi driver without a taxi, and I had a plan, I was to take a bus from 'Navva Pull' (New Bridge) to Dharamshala (a town 18kms short of McLoed Ganj), take another bus from Dharamshala to McLeod Ganj. I hired a Cycle Rikshaw driven by a tall lean man in his late seventies, who was confident he could cycle me, to the Nawa Pull. As we left the station on the rikshaw, I immediately realised that I was in Pathankot, my birth place, we crossed the Hospital were I was born, I felt connected to this place. Pathankot is small city on the foothills of the Himalayas, it is overflowing with vegetation and natural greenery.
We crossed over a old bridge over the river Beas. My mother has told me many stories about Pathankot, she used to literally live on fishes caught from the Beas while she was pregnant with me. I do not eat fish, wonder why.
After a short ride thru the outskirts of Pathankot, dwelling in the beauty of a beautiful morning with crisp slightly chilled air, I was dropped at Nawa Pull. I saw a local bus, ready to leave for Dharamshala or so the bus conductor told me. I boarded the bus and was greeted by smiling Himachali man who was the conductor. I paid my fare and was escorted to a seat designed for three, I was alone on the seat, a sharp contrast to the train journey from Delhi. I was happy as I had been standing for the past 5 hours, so I parked myself and started my journey into Himachal Pradesh from Punjab. Within five munites into our journey we crossed into Himachal Pradesh, the scenery immediately became mountainous, lush green tarrace farms on both sides of the road. We started Climbing.
The Himachali are a silent, ever similing, calm and soft spoken people. I enjoyed sitting quietly in the bus scantily filled with these humble beings. The road winded upwards, the scenery increasing in beauty at every bend.
It turned out this bus was not going all the way to Dharamshala, it took another two buses for me to reach the Dharamshala bus station. The moment I got off the bus I spotted a Himchal Pradesh Juice Counter. While growing up in the mountains, I used to love drinking the fresh juices bottled in HP, I used to drink huge bottles of in one breath I remember. So, driven by childhood memories and with child like agility & enthusiasm, I rushed and ordered one juice of each flavor, the bottles had gotten smaller from the last time I drank these juices, so I was able to finish all. The last leg of my journey started in a small bus, filled with Monks from the Monestary in McLeod Ganj, I noticed the calm and peace on the faces of these men and women who owned nothing and desired nothing, yet were thankful to and for all.
I checked into the Himachal Tourism Club House after checking out a few hotels, here again I didn't have any reservations at any hotels. I wandered in the streets of McLeoad Ganj, it was noon, and I was tired. I was lucky to get the room, it was all they had. The room was spacious, no TV, running hot water of which I made use immediately. My room opened into a large courtyard with a Tall Pine tree and filled with beautiful wild flowers of all shapes and sizes. From this beautiful courtyard I could see clearly, the Peak of the Dhauladhar Montains, and below it my final destination, Triund.
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