An unfailing affair - I

Early morning. A first in a long time. Mother’s words reverberated in my ears, ‘Betaji, do you remember what the Sun looks like in the morning?’ Well, I had almost forgotten. Yellow. Circular. In the face. And, how it replenished early-risers with energy. Quickly brushing away diversionary thoughts that promised to bring back childhood nightmares, I focused on ways of reaching Delhi bus stand. A favor from an unsuspecting, over-friendly neighbor got me to the border of Delhi.

As if the squeals made by birds were not enough, there were unruly, hoarse sounds emanating from the makeshift bus stand. ‘India Gate, Lal Qila, ISBT’, one of them promised, all at once. Pretending this to be my first ride, on one of Delhi’s deadliest machines, I innocently sought confirmation about ISBT. Once on the bus I found my way to a safe corner to catch up on lost sleep. But the driver had other plans. For the next one hour the driver chose to treat his passengers to a fresh-out-of-the-studio Punjabi song. ‘Mitaraan di chatri ton ud gayee’ The song played some 15 times. I got off the bus mincing harsh words against the driver. But the impact was profound I was now humming the communicable tune.

I made it in time for the bus to Rishikesh. My tryst with Gangaji was now imminent. This wasn’t the first though, I had learned from a family album of an earlier visit to Rishikesh and Haridwar. But in many ways it was the first. The magic that the word ‘Ganga’ had come to create was insurmountable. It almost rushed a gust of fresh air, even in Delhi pollution, in me. The enormity of life and the smallness of our being, often, dawned on me, at the thought of the river. Rapt.

On the way to Rishikesh is the holy city of Haridwar. Just before the bus entered Haridwar Gangaji started making momentary appearances, enthralling passengers. Looking around I saw people bowing their heads in reverence, in that one moment the greatness of the river, trickling down the Himalayas, was reinforced on me.

The distance between Haridwar and Rishikesh is all of 16 kms, travel time does not suggest that though. Once inside the city, and heading for Tehri Garhwal, I found Gangaji flowing in all Her splendor, enjoying an expanse that befits Her eminence. Just then the aroma of the place, as I had perceived, struck me. ‘I have arrived!’

To be continued....