Salvation at Badrinath

The journey to any pilgrimage center is always difficult and some of the most beautiful places in the Himalayas pass through these very locations. Vehicles stranded bumper to bumper moved sinuously along the highway. The black granite mountains rose abruptly, dwarfing me by its sheer immensity. I was in Joshimat, traversing through a land of terrifyingly deep chasms and towering ridges. A narrow road, just broad enough to accommodate two vehicles, wound precariously upwards towards Badrinath.

As with all pilgrimage centers, Badrinath was also humming with people. It was the third day of the opening of the Badrinath temple. Though not particularly inclined to theism, I decided to visit the temple anyway. Despite the inclement weather the queue for the temple was at least a quarter of a kilometer long. Our piety notwithstanding, we find our selves falling short when it comes to observing queue etiquette  As I neared the door of the temple, the queue was in imminent danger of breaking. There was pushing, pulling and jumping - just about everything that one would experience while standing in an unruly queue.

All these activities increased in direct proportion to the proximity of the temple door. By the time I managed to reach the temple gateway, the right was with the might! Katha Upanishad, that vedic book with profound wisdom has astutely observed, “to cross over razor’s edge is difficult, so is the path to salvation.” I had no option but to exercise my might too if I had to have any chance of getting my cut of salvation!

Inside the temple, there was no let up in the pilgrims desire to be as close to the Murti as was permissible. They came with eagerness and hope, surrendering themselves completely to the Gods before them, oblivious to the shoving humanity, the noise or the heavy incense filled atmosphere. It was wrenching to see the imploring look on their faces. Will the Gods oblige them? Will He bestow his infinite benignity on them? The obeisance had to be brief. The impatient humanity behind did not allow you a longer communion with the Gods. Only when I was pushed out of the temple did I realise that I had forgotten to ask anything from my Maker. Well, God is everywhere, I consoled myself.

The next day held the exciting prospect of a four hour trek to the Vasudhara falls. No throngs of people accompanied me there. The libation done, the crowds had vanished. I walked alone at a comfortable pace along the narrow path that cut through the vast expanse of the valley towards the cascade.