Ganga Jal.

Where is the Ganga jal ? Ganga jal is in a small bottle in my puja room, in many bottles in the ‘temple shops’ ( the ones where we deposit our shoes and buy our prasadam before entering the temples). And yes, it is also in the river Ganga ,which flows from the great Himalayas to the gangetic plains . Ganga Jal, the water which purifies the body and mind of the believer, the water without which many rituals stand incomplete, the water which is perhaps the most significant spiritual thirst quencher, the holy water which can cleanse all unholy, the call out for such water …Where is the Ganga jal, is but obvious. And when someone had to go and get it, I took it upon myself to reach Ganga.

Thus the pious and yet not so pious husband and wife duo, that’s us, chose Rishikesh as an interlude vacation destination. To bring in thirty one years of togetherness we needed a getaway. Some eyebrows were raised in curiosity at our choice of place. I joked about doing a survey on the ashrams in the lap of Himalayas, booking a birth in advance for senior years. I have to mention here that The husband (who definitely feels much younger than I in mind and body ) wanted to go to Goa , but I wanted to get the jal. The battle between the sea and the river begun, but the pull of Ganga won over the sea and we packed out bags for a three nights two mornings holy day !

Ganga is flowing day and night for centuries to reach us, but the journey for us to meet Ganga was more simple. More so because we did not travel all the way up the mountains, to reach Gomukh, the place of Gangas origin, where it melts from glaciers to become a free flowing river. We chose to meet Ganga at Rishikesh. It took us a flight to Dehradun and from there a taxi ride for over an hour to reach the banks of Ganga. Away from the hustle bustle of Rishikesh town our home for two days was nestled in a beautiful place hidden between trees and hills. The soft breeze blowing the green curtains of leaves gave glimpses of Ganga just a few feet away. Where is the Ganga jal, the question resonated. There it was in all its pristine glory, flowing, gurgling, rushing ahead , totally unstoppable. I stood dumbfounded gazing at the river below and thought with what ignorance had I come to take Ganga jal home. The Ganga seemed to be roaring in laughter at my wish to fill it in our bottles and expect to contain it forever, I had many more lessons yet to learn in life. Ganga had to teach me some of them.

The hills stood in guard , allowing the river to run its course , youthful and energetic with joyous energy. The river returns the favor by making the hills lush with evergreens. When I am so close to nature something beautiful happens within me. As though someone presses the mute button and silences all my mundane , everyday chatter. Instead I start a conversation with the nature around me. I talk to the trees , the fruits, the flowers. The butterflies buzzing around , the birds perched on trees , they all seem to read my thoughts. But the glorious Ganga had it’s own message to convey to me. In those three days I sat by the ever flowing Ganga for hours and asked it so many questions. And then I cried unexplained tears of neither joy nor pain. I filled my cupped palms with Ganga jal and tried to wash away my tears. My tears mingled with the endless stream becoming one with something infinite. In letting go of my tears , in humbling my thoughts of self, in understanding the vastness of the life, I released my self to a new path of spiritual awakening.

My deep silence in these few days of tranquility suited my dear husband very much. He reveled in this respite from my constant chatter. He busied himself, with long walks, relaxing spa, listening to music and making friends with the local people. I find this befriending strangers a very endearing quality in him. He told me about the waiter who served us dinner , that the man lives in a village on the other side of the river. There are many rickety hanging bridges which connects the two banks of Ganga and also facilitate day to day life of the villagers. I learnt that the manager of our property had been living here for the last ten years and he loves his job. Then there was Pandeji, selling cardamoms and saunf on a thela , actually got his supply from his home town in Gaziabad. In this quest of finding locals, the husband befriended a tourist guide , who promised to walk us through Rishikesh. But his enthusiasm soon turned to silent anger when he discovered that we did not intend visiting temples and buying rudraksh and precious gems from the shop he recommended . The shopkeepers promised to bring changes in our life if we wore their stones. I let them know with extreme politeness that in this trip we were depending a lot on river Ganga to bring about all the changes in our life that needed to be changed.

I did not meet or see any Rishi in Rishikesh, but there were many men in orange robes, matted hair and designed tilaks on their forehead walking on the roads .They were ready to be photographed albeit we put some money in their jhola. I would not question their choices in life but surely my curiosity was awakened. The cows, the two wheelers, the orange robed sadhus, and locals and tourists crowded the narrow lanes of Rishikesh. As per mythology, Lakshman ( the brother of Lord Rama of Ramayana) had crossed the river with two jute ropes (information courtesy, google),and later when the bridge was built it was named after the mythological character and is till date famous as the Lakshman jhula. About two kilometers ahead of Lakshman jhula another identical bridge was constructed, known as The Ram jhula. These hanging bridges are just wide enough for two lane walking, but the two wheeler traffic on the bridge kept me being pushed to the edges and hanging on for life. I understood why they were called ” jhula” ( swing) and not bridge . Another very common activity in Rishikesh was white water rafting. Between delightful squeals of adventure lovers and the swift turn of the rapids it made an exciting sight to see the rafts getting tossed around in the river. As evening approached the ghats of Rishikesh got into readiness for Ganga Arti. A solemn and beautiful scene to witness. The chants of slokas, the lights of diyas, and the orange of the settings sun reflecting in the flowing Ganga made the noisiest tourists quiet with a few moments of introspection and devotion.

If Ganga is worshipped as a deity so be it. I do not have it in my capacity to belittle faith. Water after all is the life giver to mankind. The river cleansed us and we in return filled it with our dirt for centuries. We have done our bit by polluting the free flow of rivers and streams with our garbage. We have built dams and redirected the flow of water. We have choked the rivers and tributaries thoughtlessly. The river suffers our irresponsible behavior, but doesn’t deny us from water. When we make our water dirty we will get back dirty water in return . We get what we deserve. Beyond my conception of time the river has been flowing, continuing its free flowing journey despite all obstacles. I have no qualms in bowing with reverence before this source of life, river, water, Ganga, Ganga jal, call it as you please.

So the question was ‘ Where is the Ganga jal ?’ After living by the river side for three days, I think I have my answer now . Ganga jal cannot be contained in a bottle or two, Ganga jal cannot be brought back home in jars to be kept in Puja rooms forever. I have to seep my inner self with those cool ever flowing waves of Ganga , that is the only way to keep Ganga within me. I cannot wash away my sins with one dip in the Ganga, I have to let Ganga cleanse me every day by letting it into my thoughts. My tears of joy and pain has to be offered to Ganga as my final homage.