← In the Vision of GodHis autobiography, book two

CHAPTER XXXVII

The Pilgrimage to Amarnath

(i) The Scuffle over Ramdas

At night Ramdas and the pilgrim pandit were lodged in a house of another pandit, a resident of Mattan and friend of the escort. Next morning Ramdas came out of the house to have a view round. The importance of Mattan lies firstly in its clear spring of water which is collected in a small reservoir kept scrupulously clean and in which fishes sport – it is a delight to see and drink and bathe in this cool, transparent water – and secondly in the old ruins of the Marthand temple at a higher altitude. He paid a visit to the ruins; except for the outer fallen walls and a dilapidated middle arched door-way, there remains nothing of the temple. The ruins strike the observer with an idea of the majesty, hugeness and solidity of the structure when it was sound and whole. He spent an hour amidst these ruins, witnessing the surrounding landscape. The temple was of God Marthand, hence the name.

Another morning, as he was tramping along the main road towards a cave, a mile and a half from Mattan, he met at the outskirts a crowd gathered on the road. When he neared it he heard a violent altercation in progress between a pandit and a sparsely clothed sadhu. From their talk Ramdas could make out that the sadhu had beaten a pandit in his own house for refusing to give him some firewood for which the sadhu had gone abegging to his door. There was a commotion over the affair.

Ramdas passed on and reached the wayside hill. Ascending a few yards he came up to the narrow mouth of a cave. A little away, at the front of the cave to its right, was seated a girl in sannyasi robes before a fire. He was drawn to the place. By her side was a shallow gap in the hill which she had made her temporary abode. She was quite happy to see him and he took a seat before her at the fire. She had some milk which she heated on the fire and presented to him, and he drank the beverage sweetened with her pure love. She was a cheerful, free and dauntless girl – such are indeed of the kingdom of happiness.

With a lighted splinter of wood provided by the sannyasini and which burnt like a candle, Ramdas entered the dark, narrow alley leading to the cave which was in the bosom of the elevated hill. The walls of the passage and the interior of the cave were dripping with water issuing from a hidden spring. There were two compartments in the cave, in the larger of them was the murti of Mahadev, and in the other, a raised slab of stone under which, it was said, lay the bones of a saint who had lived there and given up his body. After a few minutes’ inspection of the cave he came out, and bidding adieu to the young mother returned to Mattan.

Ramdas marked a look of anxiety on the face of the pandit – escort. When questioned about it he disclosed the reason with great hesitation.

“Maharaj” he said, “the thing that worries me is this. We have to start higher up tomorrow or day after. As we ascend the hills the cold will become more and more severe. I have brought blankets and clothing sufficient only for one, whereas you do not possess any for your use except the inadequate cotton sheets. I was told that some warm clothing would be sent to you through a friend of yours, but so far there is no sign of him. What shall we do?”

“Leave the matter to Ram. He will see to it, please don’t worry.” Ramdas replied.

Bus-load after bus-load of pilgrims was arriving at Mattan throughout the day and he was set upon by the pandit the task of watching the arrival of Ramcharandas. Till half-past-four he sat on a low wall of a bridge where the incoming motor-buses halted.

Suddenly a young man, dressed in the latest fashion of Srinagar, and a high yellow turban, came towards him and taking him by the arm said:

“There you are, Ramdas, I have caught you. You are to go with me to Amarnath. Although you may not remember me, I have seen you at the Nishad Bag with Amarnath Bakshi who was my teacher and is now a great friend of mine. He has asked me to take care of you; come along. I am a doctor. My name too is Amarnath. I go with the hospital camp that travels with the pilgrims as far as Amarnath with the object of looking after the health of the pilgrims. I have myself a separate tent in which you are quite welcome. You will not be wanting in warm clothes and blankets. I have plenty of them to spare for you.”

Ram takes Ramdas always by surprise.

“Ramji,” Ramdas spoke to the doctor, “Ramdas came here in the company of a pandit who has been very kind to him. Ramdas must let him know of the new arrangement.”

“Come with me first,” he said with a mock authority which was always his way; such a kind and loving soul he was! “I do not want you to slip out of my hands. Come with me to my tent. I know the pandit you speak of. I shall send for him and talk the matter over with him. You need not bother about it.”

Catching Ramdas by the arm the doctor led him to a tent pitched on a flat plot of ground under the shade of trees. Having him seated in a chair the doctor sent a servant of his to fetch the pandit. The pandit came and saw Ramdas snugly lolling on a chair. Ramdas now became a quiet listener to the talk in the Kashmiri tongue between the doctor and the pandit. His stay for months in their midst had given him so much insight into their language that he could make out the trend of their talk. There ensued a war of words between them. The pandit did not like to part with Ramdas. He went to the length of assuring the doctor that he would provide Ramdas with clothing and blankets. The scuffle went on for about half-an-hour and the doctor in the end came off triumphant. The pandit left the place grumbling and disappointed.

At dusk by the last motor-bus Ramcharandas also turned up. He had brought the woollen dress for himself and also for Ramdas. The same evening Ramdas met a relation of the doctor, who arranged to provide him with a long woollen cloak and an umbrella. God, when He wills to shower His favour on His children, does so unasked and in such profusion that they get dazed and bewildered.

On the following day the crowd of pilgrims moved onward and the hospital camp followed suit – so also Ramdas and Ramcharandas with two sturdy pandits, servants of the doctor, who kept him company. The doctor rode on horseback.

By evening they reached the second stage of their journey, Phelgaon. The hospital camp was fixed on a vast plain near the bank of the river. Now Phelgaon is a most captivating place – lofty mountains on one side, a dense forest of firs and tall poplars on the other, and the smooth running river in the plateau of the valley. The vast open space with the enchanting borders lent sublimity and a unique fascination to the place. The glorious landscapes of Kashmir have been attracting tourists from various parts of the world. The charm and beauty of the landscapes, it is said, compare favourably with the world-famous sights and views of Switzerland.

In Phelgaon, in the thick crowds of pilgrims, Ramdas discovered Balak Ram Paramahams. When he so unexpectedly met Ramdas his joy knew no bounds. Ramdas found him still a slave to ganja smoking. He asked Ramdas for a cloth, and he parted with the spare one he had. He later learnt that Balak Ram had not been permitted to proceed further up to Amarnath by the police as he ran amok and began to assault the peaceful pilgrims, and the police drove him out of Srinagar to Rawalpindi.

When Ramdas returned to the camp he found that many new friends had joined the party, including some vakils and professors. Dr. Amarnath came to know that Ramdas had given away a cloth, and he took Ramdas roundly to task for what he considered a foolish act. He undertook the charge of Ramdas’ spare clothes. Ramdas scarcely used the long gown, the gift of the doctor’s relation. Particularly this cloak the doctor packed covertly in his kit. Whenever Ramdas put it on, a guard was kept on him so that he might not give it away.

At noon he met a white missionary who became very friendly with him. Ramdas spoke to him of God, Love and Christ. He was immensely pleased and proposed to arrange for a sermon by Ramdas in their church on his return from Amarnath.

(ii) Ramdas Rapt in the Vision

As far as Phelgaon the road was level. From Phelgaon commenced the uphill path. The winding path made the ascent easy, and Ramdas with the friends walked at a brisk pace and reached Chandanwadi long before sunset. The landscapes of Chandanwadi possessed their own unique charm. The scenes were most inspiring. Here the river rushed down-hill at a rapid speed. At Chandanwadi the pilgrims halted for a night. Ramdas was so well taken care of by the doctor that, at night, he would particularly see that Ramdas was covered with two blankets. The other friends also loved him with great zeal. But Ramcharandas did not get on amicably with the pandits and so he kept away from the tent and threw in his lot with the sadhus in the open air.

Next day the party moved onwards. Ramdas was furnished by the first pandit, with whom he had come as far as Mattan, with a pair of canvas shoes, which he put on for about thirty miles, but finding them an encumbrance threw them away. He was now going bare-footed. Except the woollen cap which he was wearing off and on, the woollen jacket and the bit of khaddar cloth, he had no other dress. He liked to have the body light so that he could freely run on the hills.

As Ramdas ascended higher and higher he viewed a most beautiful natural scenery that filled him with rapturous delight. The ground was now all along carpeted with short plants and grass, bearing multi-coloured blooms as though fresh blossoms were sprinkled and strewn all the way for a festive occasion.

The next stage of their halt was Vavjin. A few miles beyond Phelgaon there is a place called Nilganga where the pilgrims consider it holy to have a bath in the river. The water of the river was very cold. Ramdas, going up to the brink of the river, where a crowd of pilgrims had assembled for bath, divested himself of his clothing, and with a bare kaupin on jumped into the river near its bank and had three dips. When he came out of the water his body was benumbed and stiff with cold. The pandits who accompanied him rubbed his body briskly with a woollen napkin and dressed him again, and made him drink a cup of hot tea which they were carrying in a thermos flask. Onward ran Ramdas followed by the pandits, and by evening arrived at the high plateau of Vavjin.

Vavjin, in other words, Vayu Jin, that is Jinnee of the hurricane, is a place where furious blasts of icy cold winds are blowing at all times, often accompanied by rain. The spot is therefore wet and chilly. Pilgrims with sparse warm clothing suffered intensely from the cold here.

Here the first pandit-escort invited Ramdas to his tent for dinner, where he met an elderly man, an Inspector of schools, in whose company Ramdas ascended a hill on the plateau. The Inspector left Ramdas half way up and climbed down, as the chill breezes were too much for him. Moreover, it began to rain. Ramdas and Ramcharandas scaled the summit of the hill and descended before dark.

Passing the night at Vavjin, the next day they prosecuted their march. About nine o’clock they reached a place called Sheshnag. The cold was now becoming increasingly rigorous. Sheshnag is a vast circular natural reservoir of water, a gigantic cavity in the mountains resembling a tub with one of its sides open. The water was of dazzling purity with a bluish grey tint. Ramdas and the party approached the margin of the spherical lake and found the water icy cold.

Turning to Ramcharandas he said:

“Ramji, remove your clothing, let us have a bath in the lake.” Ramcharandas shrank from the prospect.

“The water is extremely cold,” he said: “do not let us bathe here.”

“No, Ram, it is essential that we should have a bath in this lake. Ramdas will take his dips near the bank as he is not used to swimming, whereas you ought to take a jump into the water and have a good swim. You are young and a spirited youth. You have no cause to hesitate. Come along,” urged Ramdas.

Reluctantly the lad doffed the snug and warm cloak that covered his body, while Ramdas also divested himself of his scanty garment. He first entered the water and when he came to a depth in which the water stood up to his chest, he asked Ramcharandas to take the leap, which he did, swimming for about five minutes before returning to the bank. Ramdas after three dips also gained his place. The pandits were ready to rub and dry his body with their coarse towels.

Then the party went forward and came to Panchatarni by evening. Panchatarni is a flat valley in the midst of high mountains covered with thick layers of silvery snow. The river here was flowing at a slow pace. The pilgrims pitched their tents near the bank of the river. It must be noted that in these higher regions the sun shone dimly through a thick grey mist, and the air was surcharged with a biting cold. The haze lent a weird charm to the view of the chequered verdure and the snow-capped mountains.

About five o’clock a young man of Peshawar, Shambunath, alighted from his horse. He was dressed after the European fashion. He came to the spot where Ramdas stood gazing on the snows of the hills, rapt in the vision. Ramdas could not resist giving vent to his feelings.

“What a wonderful spectacle; how sublime is this manifestation of God! He has assumed various forms, but this particular one unfolding before our sight is simply glorious. Look all round; everywhere it is He, in the snow, the mountain, the river and the green valley –”

Ramdas stopped. Thoughts melted away and words failed. For, the scene was simply indescribable! Shambunath listened with concentration to Ramdas’ outburst and a change came over him. His face erstwhile pale and gloomy brightened and a smile played about it.

“Swamiji, I am blest by your darshan,” cried out the young man, “I was sinking under dejection which I feared to be a precursor of illness. The sight of you and your exalting utterance have lifted me from depression. I now feel braced up and cheerful. I am fortunate in having met you.”

Later, he introduced Ramdas to his mother, a very pious lady, and his other friends, who showered kindness and love on Ramdas.

(iii) A Woman in Distress – Amarnath Cave

Panchatarni is only four miles from the shrine of Amarnath. The pilgrims usually settle down here and go up for a few hours for the darshan of Amarnath and return to their tents in Pancha-tarni. Night passed and it was planned that the party in the doctor’s tent should start on the short journey at about nine o’clock the next morning, return by one o’clock, and leave Panchatarni that very day and pass Vavjin the same night.

About eight o’clock an incident happened in the doctor’s tent which needs to be chronicled here. The doctor and the pandit friends occupying the tent were accustomed to massage Ramdas’ legs by turns. They took great pleasure in doing this service. When Ramdas was seated in the tent at Panchatarni, the doctor and another friend divided between themselves Ramdas’ legs, and were busy massaging them. At this juncture, an old female pilgrim, emaciated and weak, came to the front of the tent and cried out in distress. Her whole frame was shivering with cold as she had only a thin cotton saree covering her body. She piteously appealed for some warm clothing. Her repeated supplications fell upon deaf ears. None in the tent would condescend to part with a single piece of woollen cloth for the suffering beggar woman. The friends had brought plenty of dress and covering to stand against the cold, and so Ramdas thought that they could help the poor woman in her hour of need.

When Ramdas suggested some assistance to the woman, they declined to give it offering the excuse that they could not spare anything. Ramdas was put in mind of the woollen gown which had been presented to him and was now in the keeping of the doctor. Ramdas requested the doctor to hand over the gown to the woman. Even this the whole party opposed.

“The gown is for your use, Swamiji,” said the doctor; “I cannot give it to the woman.”

“Well, friends,” Ramdas then asked turning to the doctor, “why are you so fond of pressing Ramdas’ legs? What do you get thereby?”

“We feel happy when we do so,” replied the doctor.

“Ramdas permits you to do him this service, because it grants you joy, while you would not give him happiness by yielding to his will in the matter of presenting the gown to the woman whose need of it is far greater than that of Ramdas,” said Ramdas.

Then Ramdas suddenly drawing up his legs challenged the friends by the remark:

“Ramdas denies you this happiness since you are not willing to give him delight by relieving the distress of the beggar woman.”

This attitude of Ramdas produced the desired effect on the doctor and friends. The doctor at once fetched the woollen cloak from the hiding place and threw it on Ramdas, and he in his turn immediately transferred it to the needy old woman.

“Now here, do as much massaging as you like,” and Ramdas stretched out his folded legs. And they fell to the task.

Shortly after this they started for the darshan of Amarnath. A four-mile walk through a narrow winding path at the edge of a hill brought them to an open, uneven and rocky vale, the river running to its right and an immense cavity gaping out of the side of the mountain to the left. Ramdas missed Ramcharandas. He was lost in the vast and confused mass of pilgrims who were reckoned to be over thirteen thousand.

After bath in the river, Ramdas made his way to the cave. The cave, a natural hollow in the mountains, is enormous in size with a wide open mouth. Already hundreds of pilgrims had assembled in it. The place where worship is offered has a Shiva linga made of snow. Ramdas could not gain a view of the murti as it was completely hidden beneath the presents of cloths, etc. thrown over it by the pilgrims. On the right and left of the Shiva linga are huge blocks of snow which represent Parvati and Ganesh. Ramdas has heard it said that Shiva’s murti grows in size during the first fortnight of the month with the waxing of the moon and becomes smaller in dimension with the waning of it. Ramdas also saw a couple of white doves sporting on the rugged ceiling of the cave. Now hereby hangs a legend.

In the days of yore, when God Shiva and his consort Parvati resided in the cave, at the request of the latter the God narrated to her the Amarkatha, or the story relating to the secret of immortality. As God Shiva proceeded with the story, Parvati, overpowered by sleep, dozed away. At the same time a pair of doves lodged in the roof of the cave were eagerly listening to God Shiva’s narration. In the place of Parvati the doves responded to the story by uttering the sound “hoo, hoo, hoo.” Thereafter, it is said, the doves not only became immortal but also their species came to adopt the same cooing cry. It is said that the same two birds are still alive and are seen in the cave.

The pure and sanctified atmosphere, the glorious surroundings and sight of thousands of pilgrims, gave rise in him to waves of rapturous delight. He met at the cave, Ramcharandas. When asked about his bath he said that he had already had one.

Bath and darshan over, the host of pilgrims retraced their steps to their camp in Panchatarni. The doctor and his party started on their downward journey. Before nightfall they fixed their tents at a low lying hillside beyond Vavjin. Here report was brought to the doctors that a sadhu had given up his body at Vavjin on account of the severity of the cold. This was the only casualty that occurred among the pilgrims.

Early next day they commenced again the march down the hills. The path was now, of course, a continuous decline, and he with Ramcharandas close at his heels ran down the slopes at breakneck speed, and reached Phelgaon long before the hospital camp arrived.

The missionary either could not locate Ramdas’ whereabouts, since the camp was pitched at a different place this time, or he forgot all about Ramdas and his proposal regarding the sermon in his church, as he did not turn up. God’s will!

By the ensuing evening, as they now proceeded in quick marches, the party reached Srinagar. Ramcharandas and Ramdas, of course, directed their steps straight to Janakinath’s house.

A party consisting of almost all the members of Janakinath’s household started on a trip to Chenar Bagh. They crossed the Dal lake by boat and came to Chenar Bagh. The place is full of gigantic chenar trees. The view one could have from this spot when facing the lake was grand. The distant bluish mountains, the vast sheet of the still water of the lake and the clear open heavens above made up the enchanting picture. Ramdas ran, danced and skipped in the cool shade beneath the chenar trees for some time, and suddenly climbed up a slim and tall giant among them with Ramcharandas in close pursuit.

While Ramdas was going up the tree at incredible speed like a monkey, the members of the party gazed on the performance agape with amazement, not unmixed with a sense of curious delight, for they were quite unprepared for the exhibition of this aspect of his restless activity. When he reached the very summit of the tree, he shouted forth at the top of his voice, “Hari Om” three times, sending a thrill through the hearers.

Now he descended to witness the feats of asanas shown by Ramcharandas. During his absence from Ramdas he had learnt nearly thirty asanas. The presentation of the feats showed how pliable and yielding his body had become through practice. He could twist and bend it easily in so many ways. The party looked on his performance with great interest and joy. After some refreshments, the party left the spot and by evening regained Janakinath’s house.