Kalimpong Revisited

From the “Hill Top”

If my act sans Nirvana in the life yet to come:

My Self won’t brood, if You make me a grant:

That I be born on this Hill Top garden,

Amidst this burgeoning green

And blossoming flower plants.

Sprite me in a butterfly shaded as one with the peonies;

A vibrant bumble bee, more honey to store than my hive would please.

You can make me a beetle, dancing on a blade of grass;

Or, one among the crickets humming in the forest dark.

All my karma of this birth, be an account for what next to be.

 Be it a speck of a life:

Spent hovering over the Nature’s blooming vase;

 As a sparkling dew crystal, slipping down a pine tree;

 Or clustered in a day’s blossom, to be squashed under your feet. 

Be it a life of ignorance lived without knowing

Even that horse-shoe curving a few steps down the hill.

Indeed! It would be a life more fulfilling than that we civilized live,

In the jungle named ----------Society.

Yes, this is how I felt when I went to Kalimpong for the first time, ten years back. Then we had put up at The Hill Top Lodge which is undertaken by the West Bengal Government. It is situated on the Durpin hill of Kalimgpong. And I wrote these lines in reminiscence of this untamed natural beauty. The wooden octagonal rooms with glass pane windows of this lodge almost made us live the pages of Romantic Victorian Novels.

  As many of you know, Kalimgpong is a hill station in West Bengal which is slightly lower in altitude than Darjeeling. Although it is less famous than its cousin, it has gained much repute for its educational institutions, many of which were established during the British colonial period. One such school that has a rich legacy is The Graham’s Home.

This underrated hill station has much more than you can expect. And like me, you would feel like visiting this place again and again, especially for its serenity and pristine natural beauty. And this feeling was reassured when I revisited this small town with dense forest and rich heritage, for the second time. The child in my mature prosaic self was reborn.

We went straight to Kalimgong from NJP station. First we visited The Cactus Garden. They

too have boarding facility amidst a thriving nursery containing rare orchids and variety of cactus. We did not stay here. We wheeled towards Durpin Monastery for some spiritual bliss. Then after picking some bakery products from 3Cs (a must visit shop in Kalingpong for its delectable freshly baked items) we headed towards our destination.

Cactus from Cactus garden

cactus from cactus garden

cactus from cactus garden

cactus from cactus garden

Durpin Monastery

This time we stayed at Deolo Lodge atop the Deolo Hill. This lodge is undertaken by the Gorkha Hill Council. Here when the gates opened for us we felt that we were led into “The Far Far Away” land of the fairy tales. Yes, my heart skipped a beat to see the plush green meadows embedded with vibrant varieties of peonies, money plants and pruned hedges. Unlike the untamed beauty of The Hill Top Lodge, Deolo Lodge is a like neatly decked up maiden whose maidenhood has been vigilantly guarded by her knights.

Without spending much time in the cozy rooms of the lodge built in the model of British Mansion, lest we get consumed by the comfort, we sprang out to explore. It was around 5 in the evening. Soon it would be the evening twilight followed by a full moon night. We ambled through the meadows, past the tears of meditative pine trees till the edge of the cliff in order to catch up with the setting sun. But we had another important objective----- imbibing positive energy from the Mother Nature. And standing at the highest view point I could almost speak to her and her children:

Do you remember me?  I came here before.

And much before than that.

In some ancient form, known or unknown to man.

 You were still here:

 The towering pine trees across the soaring mountains.

Only that, now you are lesser in number, standing after withstanding the blows,

Scattered across the bulldozered peaks.

At least few of you stand, holding hands at the gate way to the God’s abode.

  The God of all flora and fauna: clad in the tiger hide.

He is chanting the hymns of divine harmony in his meditative mind.

For which you are still here and I exist in a half life

In a world far far away from yours….

But in deep reminiscence, confused;

 I leap into your arms----- again and again.

But like an echo, these moments fade away.

The sun is sinking, making his way for the placid moon;

Changing your green, from golden to silver hue.

The crickets are singing louder as some secret flowers awake,

While you brood on ancient thoughts that my naive mind can barely relate.   

All I can recollect: I was here several times.

For I drew you deeper, darker and more colourful on my colouring book.

I know, once you were so; when maybe I was a beetle, bird or a butterfly.

Or was I a hunter? That is why; I am no longer one among you?

At times wandering away from you, burdened by the heavy axe of guilt:

Perplexed and unaware, deluded and tangled;

Although I leap into your arms----- again and again.

But like an echo, these moments fade away.

Now the sky has put on its sombre cloak

And the Queen Moon is sitting on her throne

Whispering tales to all her earthly folks.

To you, the flowers, the grass, the birds the fishes the beasts…..

I realise, I am one with you;

For I too can listen to the lays of pain and endurance

 And shed misty tears of remorse but promised reassurance;

As I leap into your arms----- again and again.

But like an echo, these moments fade away.

 It is sun rise. And the world is still thick in mist.

So thick that I can’t see, not even you.

May be because of my heavy heart.

But my soul is cleansed by the morning dew.

And now I am sure.

With the sun shine my vision has cleared.

Like always, shivering with joy

 I leap into your arms----- again and again.

But like an echo, these moments fade away.

It is time for my retreat…. Back to the mundane.

Would you remember me when I come here again?

Maybe in the same form----adding a haunch, with a wrinkled face.                                      

Or maybe, not as what you can see me in this birth.

But I shall leap into your arms----- again and again.

Till the time, like an echo, these moments won’t fade away.

   

………………………………………..This is how my poetry came back to me again.

* photo courtesy: Anubhav Bhattacharya and Yours truly.


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Pattaya..... A mixed bag of unforgettable experiences

Few hundred kilometers from Bangkok, Pattaya is a beach city renowned not only for its coastal lining but also for its epicurean mirth and lascivious indulgences. And that gives it the nick name: The Sin City.

We entered Pattaya late afternoon. I was surprised to notice that the city seemed to be just waking up from its beauty sleep. Most of the shops were closed only few restaurants were open and the streets were sparsely crowded. It seemed that a curfew had just been lifted. In short, it looked anything but the Pattaya I heard about….. Or was it the calm before the storm?

It was… it was…that I realized once I started strolling down the streets around six. It was evening twilight and the city was waking up, much like a blooming Night Queen. And I could feel how the tempo of the party beats escalated in my veins with every passing hour. My observant eyes could also spot many unfamiliar sights that pierced like shards into my “typical Indian eyes”. The first thing that caught my attention was the mismatched couples crawling across the streets and communicating in some coded language. This was followed by men (some of them quite elderly) showing pictures of women on display. I also came across a young grandfather of an illegitimate grandson. But what shattered my orthodox beliefs is the frankness of the people. Yes, Pattaya is one place where prostitution is legal. It is a profession as much as that of a gold smith’s, black smith’s, cobbler’s, sweeper’s, teacher’s, lawyer’s, doctor’s or an engineer’s. Like these professions, the sex workers here have licence , they maintain certain code of conduct, standard rates, they go through regular medical check up by the government and above all, they are protected by the law which is so much unlike India.

The Beach Road on which we were walking, ended to begin with a massive neon gateway written “ The Walking Street”. And once I stepped in, I felt that I was living in Tennyson’s “The Land of Lotos-Eaters”. To an onlooker it might seem to be a red light area but it is indeed a major tourist attraction for foreigners and Thai Nationals because it has a lot more to offer. This two kilometres stretch which wakes up only after the dusk and sleeps at the brink of the dawn is popular for its seafood restaurants, live music venues, beer bars, discotheque, sports bar, go-go bars and night clubs. Although “Walking Street “ is a part of Pattaya sightseeing package, as I could see tour guides leading groups of tourists as if they are doing march past. But this way, you can barely get an essence of this place. So I would suggest you to visit this place after nine, that too, on a Saturday night to taste its real flavour. But mind you, the way you leave your shoes outside a shrine, you should leave your “typical Indian mind-set” outside the large video signboard erected at the gateway. Then only you can groove to the tunes of the electrocuted atmosphere of this place. If you take it in the right spirit, you would feel like being in a carnival where you can let your heart out in the company of those who are really very close to you. However, I invariably saw a huge number of drooling men who have large libido and mighty ego but small pockets. A statuary warning for such men : Here all that is good to see is also nice to touch, but once you take the bait you would be charged and that would be quite a pocket pinch. Only and only window shopping comes at an affordable price.. And if you misbehave, there’s Tourist Police

understanding and speaking different languages. They usually park themselves at the entrance. These hawk eyed cops constantly patrol the entire area keeping everyone under check. They can even confiscate your passport if they suspect you of any crime.
Anyway, after some live music and song on demand, we jigged to hindi tunes at Toni’s club. Then we entered a bar which had Russian pole dancers. Gorgeous women coiling and slithering up and down the pole like snakes was a spectacle for my eyes. But each move came with a price and if you dare to touch these ladies you would be boxed and kicked out of the bar.

I really don’t know about the living condition of these women and their reason behind taking up this profession.  But have you ever thought who the real sinners are, even in the sin city? The people who are causing the sin, or the people who are committing sin or the ones who are mere instruments. In most of the cases, it is the instrument that suffers the maximum loss. Then why all the fingers are pointed only at them?

(II)

These are poses by the dancers of the famous Alcazar Cabaret Show. It is undoubtedly the most magnanimous cabaret show in Asia and one of the best amalgamations of dance drama and costume. The dancers started their performance with traditional Thai style of dance bejeweled in flamboyant costumes.This was followed by jazz, cabaret and Bollywood style. They also included a little comic dance drama  as a cherry on the cake.This show is a real feast to the eyes..... An extravaganza of entertainment.   

Can you imagine who these stunning beauties are? They are lady-boys whom we categorize as transgender. It is commendable to see how they are celebrating “who they are” in this state- of- art theater. They don’t have to beg. Instead the audiences book tickets to watch their performance. Isn’t it glorifying? They ended with a touching performance on a song with the following lyrics:“ The world is a beautiful place to begin with.” How poignant these words are! After all, we should bring the change we want to see.

On this account, I remember the incident where my colleague’s son got hooked in a scandal: It was his birthday. His roommate and other hostel mates had surprised him with cake in the middle of the night. They also ended up giving a shock to his parents by getting hold of his cell phone and updating his status: “I am 18 and I am gay!” This had made my colleague’s family furious. Later on the son had reverted to the status and explained his parents that it was a prank. But what if it were true? My colleague said, still she would remain her son. But, what about the family? What if, he had really belonged to the third-gender?
 According to the present Indian law, all the citizens of  India have equal right to all the opportunities. Recently, this has included the transgender as well. But, what about our mind-set which in turn makes the society? How many among us accept and respect a transgender for what he is? We shun at giving them alms and complain why they don’t earn their living. But till the recent past, there had hardly been any avenue for them to do so.

After the Alcazar Show the dancers came out to click pictures with the audiences. Even I didn’t miss the opportunity to be in the same frame with one of the ravishingly beautiful dancers. When I complemented z for z’s beauty I saw her eyes going moist with emotion. The expression was not like the seductive glances of those Russians at the go-go bar or the anxious stares of the ladies queued up on the pavements of the Walking Street anticipating the day’s business. Even that glance was far too different from the eunuchs begging for money in India. That lady-boy’s eyes were full of dignity and moist with gratitude… as though above all the adulation for her performance, some appreciation for what she was, was the only thing that she wanted to hear…. It was all that mattered to her.     

(III)

Chef Tim of Hotel Avista, in Phuket had wittily instructed us: “Visit Sanctuary of Truth to wash off

your sins from Walking Street!” Jokes apart, in reality, we could feel that he was mesmerized by the architectural magnificence of this place. But even after entering, little did we expect what we were about to see. Only after a tall and slender lady-boy had helped me wrap a sarong round my waist and directed us to climb down a flight of wooden stairs, we came to realise the grandeur of this spot.

A magnanimous wooden temple posed in front of us, keeping Andaman Sea as a challenging backdrop. We were simply rapt in awe. None of us could see the Taj Mahal in making, right! I was feeling accomplished for; here at least we could see the pain and labour and innovation involved in construing such a monument of equal stature. Walking through the intrinsically etched galleries with deities in their various forms, many among which were carved out of sandal wood and rose wood was a sheer treat for the senses.

The most surprising aspect of this temple is: no nails are being used to raise this grand sanctuary of 

craftsmanship.Either the blocks are fitted into each other so that they don't slip off and the pillars can be raised. Or, a special adhesive is used to permanently fix the statues.

 Moreover, the builders have to constantly fight against the salinity of the sea that stands as a big threat to the timber from Myanmar that is predominantly used for constructing this monument. Some parts are carved out of sandal wood and rose wood as well. But, after all nothing is impossible for a willing heart. And this we realized from there craftsmen who are working day and night doing and redoing the drawing, designing, cutting, etching etc. as if, that’s the quintessence of their lives. I believe, this is worship in its own sense….a divine meditation.

Nobody knows, when the construction of this temple would be complete. But seeing this grand monument in its making is no less achievement. Indeed, The Sanctuary of Truth is a marvel of architectural craftsmanship.  

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My Experiences of Tara Pith Pilgrimage

Tara pith is a popular place of pilgrimage for Bengalis . Here, Maa Tara the motherly image of the Goddess Shakti is worshipped. There are several myths behind the piety of this place. One of them is ---- when Lord Shiva in his furious state of tandav was carrying the corpse of Devi Sati, Lord Naraya sent his Sudarshan Chakra in order to cut away the body parts of the dead devi so that Lord Shiva could be appeased. It is assumed that the eyeballs of  devi fell here. As eyes are also called tara in local language, the place got its name: Tara pith. Another oral legend states that Sage Vashishtha was practicing austerities in order to evoke Ma Shakti, but he was failing to do so. One day he got a vision where he was asked to visit the erstwhile Tibetan Buddha as he could be the only one to show him the right direction. In the mean while the Buddha himself got a vision. He saw Ma Shakti feeding breast milk to Lord Neel Kanth at Tara pith. Lord Shiva had got this name because he drank a pitcher full of poison that was churned out of sea when the surs and asurs were fighting over their claims during samudra manthan. Ma Tara took up the role of the mother, to sooth Shiva’s parched throat.

 When asked by the sage, the Buddha instructed him to go to Tara pith and worship the goddess through the practice of Vamachara(the left-hand attainment method). Only after the sage had chanted the Tara mantra 300,000 times, Maa Tara showed herself to him, in the same incarnation which was seen by the Buddha in Tibet. Then she turned into a stone image and remained in Tara pith forever. Since then, this place has become a land of divine attainments and birth place of eminent spiritual figures like Kali bhakt Bama Khyapa and Krishna Bhakt  Nitayananda.

We took Rampurhat Express from Howrah station on a Tuesday. It departed at 11:55AM. The a/c chair-car coaches were quite impressive as the air-conditioning worked properly and the push-back seats provided sufficient leg space. The crowd majorly comprised pilgrims to Tara pith, though few passengers got down at Shantiniketan. Our journey was entertained by motley hawkers selling indigenous products and food items like: varieties of mouth- fresheners, cotton towels, jhal-muri(puffed rice with mixture) etc. Also there was a musical minstrel who joined us in the last quarter of our journey. The sombre elegiac tone of this rustic Baul, singing in accompaniment of his ghunghru (anklet) and ektara had stolen our hearts. He was singing his heart out with a bare hope of earning a few pennies only if we were pleased and in the mood to part away with our wealth.  Thus the three and half hours journey came to an end in no time.

the Baul with the ektara

Look at his passion!

 We reached Rampurhat at 4:30 PM and were thrown into an ocean of tuk-tuks and auto-rickshaws. After a row of bidding and bargaining I saw myself in an auto-rickshaw. We were asked to keep our luggage at the back of the vehicle. Despite being utterly perplexed about the instruction, we followed him. It was only after he had vroomed his auto we realized the reason behind his statutory warning. Our rickety auto driver must have been a fan of John Abraham and had imagined his equally rickety auto to be Harley- Davidson. Moreover, the road was more like the surface of the moon. Nevertheless we thank him for giving us this out of the world experience. Somehow the driver took us intact to our hotel “ Sonar Bangla” within 25-30 minutes. We had booked it online. Since it is one of the oldest hotels in this area I would not rate it, but comment that the room was decent in terms of Tara pith standards and the food was pretty much okay. We dumped our bags, freshened up, ate some snacks and went out to take a stroll across the town. The first thing we noticed was that the mongrels in Tara pith get first- citizens’ status.

 The temple stands about 10 minutes walking distance from our hotel. On the right hand side of the road flows the River Dwarka --- a part of Aadi Ganga(the ancient course of the holy river Ganges). Adjacent to it, amidst the thick foliage of tropical trees occupies the famous as well as ill famous crematorium of Tarapith. Famous, because this was the place where Sage Vishishtha and Sadhak Bama Khyapa attained enlightment and envisioned the Goddess Tara. An ashram for the devotees of Bama Khyapa has been built here. It is ill famous because this is the haven for aghori and tantric sanyasis(sages) who do queer Tantric practices. The local people say that the primordial-stone of Maa Tara was originally kept in the cremation grounds. It was the Queen of Nator who constructed the present temple and shifted the stone to its holy sanctum, much after the death of Bama Khyapa .

The temple comes on the left hand side of the crematorium only after a throng of shops selling Tara Maa’s feet and other souvenirs. But what caught our eyes was huge langchas (fried sweet meat dipped in sugar syrup) as if specially prepared to be served in elephants’ wedding!

those langchas

 We could also see many stalls that sell the ingredients needed to pay homage to Ma Tara. As we were considering the options: a dark skinned lithe bodied man of medium height wearing trousers in deep shade with a light coloured loose shirt appeared in front of us. He seemed to be in his thirties and introduced himself as Bangshi. He was the owner of one of such shops providing puja services. He somehow impressed us with his conviction. Therefore, we expressed our wishes for Ma’s darshan. And he did serve our requests promptly because that was his profession and he knew: customer service satisfaction is the secret of any successful business.

On that very evening he could squeeze us into the sanctum of Maa Tara during the evening aarti. We were so close that we could feel the heat of the lamps. I don’t know whether that made me purge my sins, but indeed it was a spectacle worth experiencing. We could see the adorning of the Goddess in details: first her silver face with large eyes and tongue protruding out, was cleaned with holy water and auspicious leaves, then her temple was decorated with turmeric and vermilion. The process of invocation of Devi was also awe inspiring. The beating of the drums and the bell metal disc synchronized with the bellows of conch shell and oral sounds produced by rolling of tongues, the smell of various forms of incense sticks and fanning of the Goddess with fans made from the manes of animals….. Almost took us into a trance. It continued for an hour. Although, I came out completely drenched in sweat, but the experience made my heart fuller and spirit lighter.

Ma Tara

Maa Tara's Aarti

The Adorning

After buying some souvenirs from an octogenarian shopkeeper who seemed to have us as his lone customers for the day (as he didn’t even have a change of even Rs.500), we walked down to Bangshi’s shop. He gave us two sweet meats as Prasad. We fixed an appointment at 3:30 AM, the next day in order to pay a personal homage to Maa Tara.

It was still dark when we started for the temple next morning.The ministers of good luck was favoring us that day because the moment we stepped out, we got an auto to the temple. Most of the shops were closed. But Bangshi was waiting for us at his shop. He handed us a big basket full of items to offer Maa. We were made to queue up behind a chain of around 20 people. The gate opened sharp at 4am. The queue moved in spiral lines into the sanctum. And what we saw inside was absolutely different from the avatar we had seen the previous day. This time we saw the primordial image of Maa Tara. It was an abstract set of curves on a black stone. This was indeed a mesmerizing sight. Ma Tara is bathed at that time of the day. And then that stone is worn the silver statue. Being a part of this ceremony gave us a divine feeling.

Bama Khypa's House

Since we had the entire day at hand, we decided to do a bit of sightseeing. Bangshi arranged a maruti van for us. First we went to the birthplace of Bama Khyapa at Atla gram, which is on one end of Tara pith. There we not only saw his photo taken by Abanindranath Tagore but also the relics of this great sage. Though he was a celibate, his brother’s descendants from his daughter’s side live in this area. After that, we went to Ekchakra gram which is around 20minutes drive from Atla through the rural topography of Bengal.

Bama Khyapa's Statue

 Apart from Nityananda’s birthplace, a majestic Krishna Temple by the Iscon society is the special attraction of this place.

His Relics

The beautiful Iscon Temple

That's me.... Motivated for Spiritual learning  

By then it was already afternoon. Bangshi was supposed to bring Ma’s vegetarian bhog to our hotel room. So we rushed to our hotel. Non-vegetarian bhog is also served by the temple since goat sacrifice is an integral part of Goddess Tara’s worship rituals. But trust me, even the sumptuous vegetarian bhog wouldn’t disappoint you.

The Sumptuous Bhog 

After relishing this holy food and thanking and tipping Bangshi for being an excellent travel guide we headed towards the Rampurhat station in an auto to catch our return train to Howrah Station. The day was hectic. But staying awake in the train paid us well. Because we could please our rolling tongues with hot and fresh chops brought to the train by a hawker who got up from one of the stations. They were in three varieties: prawn, egg and veg.  And snacking on these we reached Kolkata……

 “Jai Mai Tara!”

     

 A