Being a Kanwaria - A Journey of Faith and Self-Realization

By T. V. Sinha
Aug. 28, 2008

Day Three

We were a bit late in getting up and could start only by 5 am. The sharp ascent and descent in the hill made walking quite tough. My speed was down to a crawl. The stretch is also rather picturesque with several rivulets and other water bodies. I somehow trundled to Tageshwarnath for breakfast and a second bath. Breakfast was Chura and Dahi, something that I do not particularly like. However, it seemed the safest choice as the alternative was deep fried Puri Sabzi.

Around 10, the sun, normally behind a thick cover of monsoon clouds, was out fairly strong. My group had moved ahead and I was left behind, barely able to crawl. At one stage, I could go no longer. So breaking the convention of my group, I put my Kanwar on a stand and stopped at a roadside stall. All road side stalls have chowkis or wooden platforms where pilgrims can take rest. At night, one has to pay money (typically Rs 25) for a chowki, but during daytime, anyone is free to take rest.

This stall was owned by a particularly poor woman and had no other visitor when I went in. I ordered lemon sherbet (all of Rs 3 per glass). I saw a fleeting glimpse of disappointment on her face at the prospect of a very small order by the lone customer. I increased my order to two glasses and was promptly rewarded with a lota (metal container) which was not less than five glasses.

I would have rested in her shop for about half an hour. I went into deep thought, trancelike. Most people undertake this journey to ask for a boon. I had not thought of any. I suddenly started to recall, one after the other, the various turns of my life. I could have been, to put it mildly, much less successful if any of those had turned out differently. I looked at the poverty of the shopkeeper as her two half naked children played in the shade. I could not help feel how privileged my life had been.

I must say I have never felt closer to divinity than in those thirty odd minutes I spent in her shop. How we keep running after more and more and make ourselves so unhappy! Smug satisfaction leading to not making an effort to improve one’s lot can’t be a solution. Is then the Geeta teaching which exhorts one to work without bothering about results the right path?

Chowkis for the rest of Kanwarias.

I got up from the chowki fairly refreshed. I gave her a ten rupee note. She wanted to return me four rupees! With some persuasion, I managed to make her take keep it. I must have walked pretty fast from there as soon, I had caught up with my group for lunch.

I must describe the lunch in some detail. It was five pieces of bread (Bihari style rotis or phulkas), two vegetables, dal, two varieties of pickle and a little bit of green salad too! All for the princely sum of Rs 15. Since all food is cooked fresh, it tasted very good. Perhaps it was also the extreme physical tiredness which made it taste so good!

My lunch and dinner was costing Rs 15 each. The breakfast was for Rs 10. The chowki for the night was Rs 25. The cost of all the sherbets during the day was Rs 20 or so. Thus I was surviving at Rs 85 per day or less than USD 2, the official line of poverty in less developed countries like India. My clothing consisted of two pairs of saffron shorts and T shirts ( the set cost less than Rs 100 each) and a gamcha (or towel) worth Rs 80 – in all Rs 280 or about USD 6. I did not have a footwear, nor shaving kit or even a toothbrush. I was brushing my teeth with Neem twigs. I did not miss anything. I did not need anything more. I felt quite content with whatever I had. Such is the power of spiritualism!

Sometime after lunch, we entered the Suia Pahar (the needle hill). The infamous needle shaped stone chips are gone, swept away by the volunteers over the years. This makes the journey for the bare foot pilgrims much less painful. However, the undulating terrain which required one to keep going up and down hill was rather strenuous slowing one down to a mere crawl.

We decided to take an early break and called it a day by 6 pm. There was a grand looking dharamshala (pilgrim’s inn) which was reputedly built by a single volunteer over a period of forty years. In his honour, it is called Kanwaria dharamshala. It was chock a block with pilgrims. We got a place next to it in a serai. We had early dinner and went to bed.

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