The Ancient Trail- Chapter 5: Following an Ancient Trail

Photo by Ashok J Kshetri: https://www.pexels.com/photo/majestic-mountain-landscape-in-karnali-nepal-28387038/

 The three friends continued their conversation with the Hindu holy man and learnt from him that there were several versions of Jesus’s travels in India which had him visit places as far as Ladakh and Kashmir in the north of the country and Varanasi in the eastern part of India. Though there were various accounts and legends associated with those supposed travels in India, there really was no tangible evidence about that fact. Neither recorded history nor any great theological tradition emphatically states that Jesus Christ did in fact travel to India at some point of time.

Yet the myth or legend persists-not in a major way, but in a manner than it won’t go away. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that India is an ancient centre of spirituality and it is likely that a spiritual being of the caliber of Jesus Christ may have wanted to come to India and actually undertaken the journey. After all people have been coming from the Middle East and beyond since the times of antiquity. Most came to trade, some to conquer, others to proselytize and some in search of spiritual truth.

The Romans and Arabs came to trade, but also ended up learning mathematics from learned Indian in the process. The great Chinese scholar Xuaun Zang came to India to acquire knowledge over an extended seventeen year stay in the seventh century. Christ’s very own apostle St. Thomas came to India, as mentioned earlier to spread the new religion founded by his master among the Indian people.

A common thread running through all these ancient tales of travel and adventure is the fact that India has been the crossroads for many intrepid travelers who visited this land either temporarily or made it its own. In that sense India has since the earliest times been a fabled destination and this unfortunately led to its colonization for a long period of time by newly risen imperial powers attracted by its fame as a nation or region like no other.

Arnold spoke after the holy man had left them.

“Guys, why don’t we follow the purported trails that Jesus took two millennia ago? Let’s look aIndia through his eyes and see what we find.”

Michael looked at Arnold quizzically and commented, “Now you are talking. You are right. Let’s get off the beaten touristy track and see India the way the ancient travelers and adventurers did.”

“Yeah, let’s,” said Joseph who too warmed to the idea of discovering India in this unconventional way. The three of them decided that they would first go to Srinagar in Kashmir and visit the site of the ancient grave, which many believed contained the remains of Christ. They would then visit Ladakh where a centuries old Buddhist monastery was reputed to have in its library ancient Tibetan scrolls which shed some light on the years Jesus had spent in India.

Of course, they only meant to visit as tourists and not get involved in any research and investigation of their own about the matter. The primary objective of their India visit was unchanged-that of traveling to far off places on a fun voyage of discovery before the rigours of daily life swallowed them. So they planned to continue to travel on their bikes in an easy and relaxed fashion, stopping when they felt like it, taking in the surroundings and interacting with the local people.

They were quite pleased about the fact that they would be traveling through the cool Himalayan region and therefore escape the furnace like heat of the North Indian plains. That apart they had been given to believe that the terrain they intended to traverse was amongst the most spectacularly beautiful on planet Earth and that spurred them on to proceed on their grand endeavor.

From Kathgodam they rode on a short distance of about twenty four kilometers to the pretty- as- a- jewel mountain valley of Nainital. Nanital is the name of a quaint hill-station or hill-resort town of colonial antecedents. It is situated along the banks of the stunningly beautiful Naini Lake and dotted with colonial era buildings along the main through-fare, the Mall Road which runs parallel to the lake.

The town extends from the lake front to the slopes of the nearby mountains. The three friends found a couple of comfortable rooms in a budget hotel located on the MallRoad. There was a great view of the Mall Road itself and the lake next to it from the café on the roof-top. That was where the three headed after dumping their luggage in the rooms. Over many cups of tea they observed life on the road below and on the lake beyond.

There was a deliciously cool scented breeze blowing in from the lake that carried the scent of water to them. Nainital being more than six thousand and five hundred feet above sea level never crossed thirty degrees centigrade in summer and would receive some snow in the winter. The local flora over here was therefore distinctly different from what was found in the plains. Instead of the Neem or Peepul trees, one found pines, cedar and oak and other temperate zone varieties of trees.

Nainital used to be the summer capital of the state of United Provinces (now Uttar Pradesh or UP) in British India. It was now an important center of tourism in the newly formed state of Uttarakhand comprising of the erstwhile hill districts of UP. The place was also famous for some of the best boarding schools in the country, dating back to British times.

Joseph voiced the thoughts of the others when he said, “ I could consider living here, you know. This is quite a magical place.”

The others nodded their heads in assent. Soon it was dark and the street lights on the lake front came on, with the shops lining the Mall Road following suit imparting a jewel like luminosity to the place. This was the time for tourists and revelers to throng the Mall Road. School children in uniform too were to be found strolling the road, accompanied by chaperones.

People who had been boating in the lake were beginning to steer their vessels to the shore. Some of these were small colorful sailing yachts that belonged to the famed Nainital Boat club. Much as they would have liked to stay, they moved on the next day, as there were large distances to cover.

Their first stopover would be the little hill-town of Gairsain. Though the distance was only about 145 kilometers, it took them five and a half hours to cover it on their bikes. This was on account of the terrain being mountainous, as also the fact that they rode at an easy pace. They went along quaint little villages easily out of an era that was a couple of centuries older.

Though it was peak summer, the weather was deliciously cool, and on their bikes it would sometimes even get a little cold, when they would ride in the shade of a large hill. Whenever they felt a little tired, they would stop by a roadside tea-stall and have the strong and bracing tea, laced with plenty of milk and sugar that one could only find in the Himalayan regions of northern India.

All through the views were to die for-pine, oak and cedar forests on the slopes of steep hills alternating with villages nestled in high Himalayan valley. Most of these stood next to terraced farms that grew crops like paddy, maize and potatoes. They reached the town of Gairsain around lunch time and checked into a small but comfortable lodge. After a quick lunch of piping hot rajma-chawal(kidney beans and rice), the trio collapsed into their beds and got up just in time for dinner.

It was served in the lawn of the lodge, next to a bonfire lit up on small raised platform of loose bricks. Also present were a few other guests and the staff of the lodge. The three of them had piled up their plates with delicious chicken curry, dal (lentil) and rice, accompanied by some very tangy pickle and settled into easy chairs beside the bonfire. They were glad that there was a fire as a chill breeze was blowing across the lawn.

“No one would believe that we are in the tropics. All that we have seen over the last couple of days is high mountains, alpine forests, cool lakes and mountain torrent. The weather too has been wonderful, to say the least,” said Joseph

.“Well this is mostly the kind of terrain we will be travelling in over the next few days-all the way to Kashmir,”added Michael.

“Heck I am not complaining,” said Joseph. “It’s so wonderful here, like the Rocky mountains, back home.”

“Didn’t know you had been to the Rocky Mountains, Joseph,” asked a mildly surprised Arnold.

“Well it was a college trip. That is why you don’t know about it. It is not exactly like the Rockies, of course. There are no precariously perched mountain villages, or any terraced farms like there are here.

They left at the crack of dawn next day for their next destination-the famed valley of Dehradun that lay about 260 kilometres away and would require them to ride for some eight hours through some of the most picturesque as well as dangerous mountain roads anywhere. They had to pass through high hills, steep valleys and little towns and villages that lay along the course of the mighty River Ganges and its myriad tributaries.

Of course, up in the mountains the river and its tributaries were raging mountain torrents, fed as they were by the melting snows in the high Himalayan mountain peaks. This was an area rich in wildlife that could pose a threat to humans, namely leopards and sloth bears. The famous British hunter and later writer and conservationist, Jim Corbett had famously shot some man-eating leopards in this area.

They arrived in Dehradun, the capital of the hill state of Uttarakhand around lunch time, bone tired and desperately in need of a wash. Dehradun was a modern town with its share of swanky shopping malls and fancy restaurants. But that was not how it always had been. Barely a decade and a half back it was a gentle and laidback town nestled between the Himalaya mountains in the north and the sub Himalayan Shivalik mountains to the south.

It was renowned for having some of the best schools in India(like Nainital), as also being home to the Indian Military Academy where cadets trained to serve in the Indian Army as officers, as well for housing the headquarters of a number of premier research institutes. It was also a preferred destination for seniors to spend the last years of their life. But being made the capital of Uttarakhand had brought an unfortunate end to the old charm of the town.

The advent of modernity and all that it is associated with-shopping malls, cars, multi storied apartments, traffic jams and pollution turned it into just another modern Indian town or city, Thankfully the town is still a lot greener and a lot less dusty than other towns and cities that dot the North Indian plains, just an hour away from the famed Doon valley.

For a change the three biker friends decided to stretch their budget and checked into the swanky Hotel Upvan, which was located strategically, just beside the road to Mussoorie, the over six thousand feet above sea level high hill-station that towered over the town of Dehradun. They checked into their individual rooms for some much needed rest and repair.

After roughing it out in the high Himalayas it was a bit disconcerting to be back in luxurious surroundings. The piped music, the central air-conditioning and the liveried bell-boys carrying their luggage to their rooms reminded them of how so incredibly different and difficult life was for the hardy village men, women and children they had encountered in the hills-no running water, restricted access to electricity, and none of the creature comforts that they took for granted back home in the US.

Of course things were changing for the simple hill folk and while no one would grudge the modern amenities like electricity and running water that modernization would bring the simple hill folk, there were those who rued the fact that this would forever destroy a hoary tradition of living off the land without irretrievable damaging it and replace it with a rapacious and exploitative culture that would eventually defile and destroy both the pristine environment of these parts and the people who lived there.

Arnold, Michael and Joseph stayed up late the next morning, not even getting up to have breakfast. Hours of driving Enfield Bullet motorcycles on the mountain roads of Gharwal Himalayas(which did not exist on certain stretches), had made their very bones tired and they needed all of the fifteen hours of sleep that they accomplished.

The next day they were to leave onwards for Jammu, about 500 kilometres away. Their route would see them leave the Himalayas for a few hours and traverse through the plains of Haryana and Punjab, which after their exertions in the mountains would have been a relief, had it not been for the warm weather they encountered on the plains.

But still it was a relief to drive on good roads that went straight and not up and down. The eight hour drive saw them pass extensive farm lands and prosperous Punjab towns of Ludhiana and Jalandhar onwards to Pathankot and crossing over to the Jammu region and finally arrive at the temple town of Jammu Tawi itself, again in the foothills of the great Himalayas.