The Ancient Trails- Chapter 4: Delhi City to the Himalayas

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The three friends had been sufficiently intrigued by whatever little they had seen of the city of Delhi on the way to the hotel and wanted to explore the place. At the hotel they found out from the staff and a few tourists who had been in the country for some time that Delhi was one of the oldest and greatest cities in the world with a glorious and checkered past. The present megapolis of Delhi had in fact been known by seven different names starting with Indraprastha from the times of the ancient epic the Mahabharata and preceding the birth of Christ by almost two millennia.

Later the fearsome Rajputs (a race of warrior Hindus)had their capital there. Right through the early and later Muslim era that followed their rule, Delhi was an important seat of the empire, and these rulers who were prolific builders left a whole lot of evidence in the shape of important buildings like palaces ,forts and mosques, many of which stand to this day. Though many of these were built on sites that previously held buildings of importance to the Hindus, and caused a great deal of resentment among them at that time, down the centuries the two great communities evolved a composite culture which reflected in their food, customs and even architecture to this day.

This was largely on account of the fact, that a majority of today’s Indian Muslims were descended from people who had converted from Hinduism. By the time the British set foot in Delhi the two communities lived in the sort of harmony that one can only marvel at in these not so peaceful early decades of the twenty first century, where the world seems to have one mad. Delhi really is, possibly more than any other place, a microcosm of what India is and stands for.

The city has more heritage in the shape of old monuments and ruins than any other city in the world surpassing even Rome, the great European city that was the hub of a world empire for many many centuries. Coming as our friends did from a country which was a little over two centuries old, this hoary past of a city bit was something they needed time to understand and appreciate.

"Man is this all that they can come up with after having had five bloody thousand years to work on it? Why back in the States all the cities are so grand and they all came up in my grandfather's time!", Joseph exulted, pointing in the direction of the congested alleys running just beside the hotel chock a block with cycle-rickshaws ferrying passengers, three-wheeled tuktuks and the not so frequent cabs.

"You haven't ventured out of the hotel yet dude, so you don't know what the place has to offer!”Michael who had been filling them in on the city's past exclaimed.

”Yeah, I know" drawled Arnold sheepishly, “but still it doesn't hold a candle to the States".

"That's not the point Arnold", Michael explained kindly. "We're on a voyage of discovery, right?"

"Yeah right", said Joseph, "let's check out the sights and make the discovery, shall we?"

The friends chose a guided tour bus, which took them first to the old part of the city, also known as the walled city. Walled city because it was originally largely within the confines of fortified walls that came up in the time of the grand Moguls. Their first destination was the magnificent Red Fort, a vast fortress and palace complex built by the famous Emperor Shan Jahan-(king of the world).Its construction was completed in the year 1648, almost a hundred and thirty years before the birth of the United States.

As the three friends approached the front of the looming red edifice encircled by a deep but dry moat, they were visibly impressed by the sheer scale and of what they saw.

“Man, these Moguls must have been really powerful to have come up with something like this", said Arnold softly, almost to himself.

"Well they were the predominant empire of their time, stretching all the way from Afghanistan to almost the southern parts of India, and no other empire of that time matched their wealth. Even the European powers of the time dared not antagonize the Moguls and would send trade emissaries with gifts, " ventured Michael, who had done some reading about the place back at the hotel.

The three friends quietly entered the massive doorway that marked the entrance to the complex. Inside the three American friends saw a fantastic world that they would perhaps have not ever imagined in their most vivid imagination. Grand palace complexes with marble columns and arches, water channels and fountains albeit with no water running through them now, and ceilings covered with intricate carvings.

Beautifully landscaped gardens abutted the palaces, and they could feel a gentle breeze caress their faces. Having been in the United States all their lives the three friends had never really spent any time thinking about how there were nations other than their own with their own history and tradition.

Michael and Joseph did know about the Jewish community and their persecution by the Nazis, but beyond that they were quite content to live their happy all American lives. For Arnold of course, the USA was the centre of the world world. Here in India, an ancient land with its thousands of years old history and many empires down the ages, the three youngsters from the West realised that they were in a different world-a beautiful,but at the same time terrifyingly mysterious world which was very different from their own.

During the course of the day, the bus took them to many other monuments dating to the period of Muslim rule in India which preceded that of British colonial rule. They saw the Old Fort built by the Afghan ruler Sher Shah Suri on the site of the ancient Indian city of Indraprastha, the first name by which Delhi was known, mentioned in the great Hindu epic, the Mahabharata, and the Qutub Minar, a a soaring minaret, built with the rubble of many demolished Hindu temples, by Qutub-ud-din Aibek of the slave dynasty one of India's early Muslim rulers. It was built as a victory tower to commemorate the establishment of Muslim rule, in a predominantly Hindu land in the twelfth century.

The evidence of the Hindu past is present in the shape of columns and statues that still remain in a few places, though in a dilapidated state. There is also an ancient commemorative pillar from the Hindu imperial past crafted out of corrosion proof iron that is largely rust proof till the present times. Dating back to the 4th century in the middle of the courtyard facing the Qutub Minar.

What would have amazed the three friends about the Indian people, if they gave it a thought, is the extent of tolerance they showed to people of all faiths and never really bore a grudge even against those who did not treat them well at all.

From Qutub-ud-din Aibek's time till the advent of the Hindu Marathas, Sikhs and later the British in the late seventeenth century, the Muslim constituted the ruling class in vast parts of the country. Amongst the rulers there were a number of bigots, especially in the early years, and a number of enlightened and far sighted ones, especially among the great Moguls of whom Akbar the Great was truly exceptional.

By the time, the time the three friends returned to their hotel dog tired and somewhat more enlightened about India, the heat of the Delhi summer and the visual impact of the country, its people, culture and food had made them more tired and somewhat dazed.. In a little while when they were well settled in the cafe with a few mugs of chilled beer inside them, they began to talk about their adventures.

”Well, this sure is as different from home as it can be", said Arnold.

"You don't say!,” interjected Joseph.

“You don't have people peeing next to a 400 year old wall in the States for sure", alluding to the curious habit of some Indians of unabashedly relieving themselves next to any stretch of wall or open space. Pretty much like they were king of all they surveyed.

"It's probably got to do something about a lack of public urinals", offered Michael.

“I thought the bazaar inside the Red Fort looked a bit like the old city of Jerusalem"

“Hey India sure had a glorious past", Arnold said.“But I would like to get to a cooler place like the famed Himalaya mountains first, before I am ready to take in all the centuries of history that India holds in its bosom."

" You bet. Let’s get some pine scented air into these scorched lungs!,” chimed in Joseph.

The next two days were spent in scouring the famous used-motor cycle market in Karol Bagh, a few kilometers down the road from their hotel, trying to buy three iconic Royal Enfield Bullet motor cycles-India's answer to the Harley Davidson. Like everything in India the Royal Enfield Bullet too has a great deal of history behind it. In the year 1956 Enfield India took what proved to be the monumental decision of assembling the formerly British built Royal Enfield 350 cc, Bullet motor cycle in the country.

This was under a licensing arrangement initially, and by about 1962 the bike was being produced locally. The plant is situated in the southern port city of Chennai, and the Royal Enfield Bullet has become an icon for biking enthusiasts in India and indeed all over the world. The Indian armed and police forces swear by them, and so do hordes of tourists, both of the back packer and well heeled variety.

Many of them keenly participate in the many rallies and expeditions that are specially organized for tourists, and most of which include an outing in the Himalayas. Joseph managed to strike a deal for the purchase of three 500 CC Bullet bikes in reasonably good condition with a wizened old Sikh dealer for the sum of Rs.75,000/-equal to some $870. They next bought themselves motorcycle helmets, some camping gear and rucksacks at one of the many small shops that dot the Pahar Ganj area, catering to the large numbers of backpackers that form the mainstay of the economy of the area.

After getting their bikes serviced, and fueled up they started their epic journey into the world’s greatest and most majestic mountain ranges-the Himalayas. They set out at dawn, when the weather was cool, and the traffic on the roads of Delhi and beyond was sparse. In no time they had crossed the Nizammudin bridge over the River Yamuna, which originates as a snow-fed torrent in the high Himalaya, but in its journey to the capital of the country has been reduced to a carrier of the city’s sewage flowing sluggishly in the summer heat.

The three young Americans were enjoying the ride already with the early morning breeze dashing across their bodies, as they gathered speed once on the broad NH (National Highway) 24 that went on for nearly six hundred kilometers, all the way to the city of Lucknow, the erstwhile seat of regal Muslim Nawabs (Kings), and now the capital of the most populous state of India , Uttar Pradesh (a population of a whopping 240 million!).They were not going all the way in that direction of course.

The plan was to branch off northwards from the highway after traveling some two hundred kilometers, towards the terrai plains and early foothills of the Kumaon Himalayas. Barely an hour after crossing the Yamuna, the intrepid trio crossed the mighty River Ganges or the holy Ganga to the Hindus, the very heartbeat of the Indian civilization. On its banks lay the oldest extant city of the world, Varanasi and numerous towns and villages where people-Hindus, Muslims and others have been going about the business of life for millennia. As they passed village after village they noticed to their surprise that though India is 80% Hindu, large numbers of the people they came across were clearly Muslim by the way they dressed and wore their hair.

Even the names of some of the villages and town on the way had Muslim names. This was not surprising considering that they formed 20% (corresponding to the national average) of the population of the most populous state of India. This put their numbers at about 40 million people nationally which is almost double the population of Saudi Arabia.

Religious differences aside the people spoke the same language, ate similar food(except for the fact that the Muslims ate more meat and the Hindus were largely vegetarian), and for all practical purposes lived in apparent bonhomie. As their bikes rode further into the forested terrai region, the landscape around them turned lush with rows upon rows of tall trees lining the road. Beyond lay the farms tilled by hardy Sikh farmers who had settled in the area after the country’s independence from the British and division into the two modern nation states of India and Pakistan.

They came as penniless refugees fleeing massacres in the radicalized Islamic state of Pakistan, and through the dint of their hard-work became prosperous farmers who extracted the maximum from the fertile lands in these parts. .As the surroundings became progressively greener and the dusty plains of UP became increasingly distant, they caught the first glimpse of the foothills of the Himalayas looming hazily on the horizon. This immediately caught their fancy and they almost simultaneously twisted the accelerator bar on the motor cycle handles to increase their speed so that they could reach the blessed hills faster. The Himalayas are known to have this effect upon people, especially if one approaches them from the scorching plains of northern India

It is not without reason that some of the holiest Hindu shrines are high up in the Himalayas, sometimes even above the tree-line, in high valleys and mountain tops, in the bosom of the eternally snow capped mountain peaks-some of the highest in the world. Imagine coming from hot and dusty lands that comprise most of tropical India and coming across this vast mountainous region with its temperate to very cold weather, that went on and on for thousands of kilometers straddling many countries and culture.

The experience could be compared almost to inter-galactic travel-from one world to another. The plains terminated abruptly in the small town of Kathgodam (timber-warehouse). The mountains were now right beside the town, and all that they needed to do was to ride on in that direction. They decided to halt for lunch. They had been practically riding non-stop for seven hours now, save two small tea-breaks at roadside stalls. They parked their bikes outside a decent looking restaurant next to a narrow canal that carried away excess water from one of the mountain rivulets to the many village fields just outside the boundaries of the town.

The biker trio gorged on a wholesome meal of parantahas(Indian pancake shaped bread) baked in coal burning clay ovens, scrambled eggs, dal (lentils) and generous dollops of farm fresh butter. There was a nice cool breeze blowing into the restaurant from the main doors which had been kept open which along with the warm food served to rejuvenate them to the extent that they started talking about their plans ahead.

“Nice place this,” said Arnold.

“Can you hear the sound of the brook flowing just beside this place?”

“That’s not a brook genius. That’s an irrigation canal,” corrected Michael.

“Yeah, an irrigation canal, but follows the same principle-flowing water, music to the year.”

“I guess you are right Arnie.”

Their conversation was briefly interrupted by one of the waiters ushering in a distinguished looking Hindu holy man wearing an ochre colored robe and many beaded necklaces around his neck. He was assigned the table just beside that of out three friends, who had never seen a Hindu holy man before and were quite intrigued by him.

They would have loved to have struck a conversation with him, but were too shy to ask. The holyman caught them sneaking a look at him, and flashed a very warm and welcoming smile.

“It’s okay boys, I don’t bite,” he said in perfect English.

“Holy mother of Christ!,” said a startled Arnold, who would sooner have expected a unicorn to drink at the canal outside, than expect a Hindu holy man address them in English. To be fair to Arnold, he would have been startled even at the sight of an Englishman speaking English for to him English was a language only the Americans spoke.

“I am sorry, your holiness,” he apologized. “I have never been around a Hindu holy man before-especially an English speaking one.”

“That’s okay,” the holy man spoke in a kind tone. I would be as astonished, if I suddenly heard the pope speak in Hindi.”

That cracked up the three friends and they started laughing loudly in unison.“We would be very startled indeed, if the pope spoke in English as well, said Joseph.

“I am not sure there ever has been an English speaking pope.”

“Well that makes sense considering that Christianity reached the non English speaking world long before it reached the shores of England.

Why we had Jesus’s disciple Thomas himself come and establish his lord's church here in India. Some say that even Jesus himself visited India and travelled extensively. He is supposed to have met and interacted with many Hindu and Buddhist mystics of the time and learnt much from them. In fact there are those who believe that he is buried in India!”

The three men stared at the holy man and heard him with rapt attention. The old man continued, “There is a 2000 year old grave in Kashmir, which the locals will tell is that of Jesus.”

“But Jesus died on the cross?,” countered Arnold incredulously.

“Well who is to know if he did?

In any case there is also the legend that he rose from the dead in three days. There are many who believe that he came to India after surviving the crucifixion and lived to a ripe old age and died peacefully of natu;ral causes in Kashmir,”offered the holy man.

“What do you believe?asked Michael.

“I believe, this may well have been the case. The ancients often travelled vast distances sometimes over a life time. There have been so many instances. Remember the three wise men mentioned in the Bible, one of those was an Indian. Then there was Marco Polo who travelled to China when so little was known about it.

Much before Christ, came Alexander the Great who had a profound influence upon the Indian sub continent, even though he was here for a very short period of time.”

“Why didn’t Christ leave a major impact on India then?,” asked Michael.

“Well Jesus was one among many wandering holy men that went around traveling the length and breadth of India and people would probably have heard him with deference and gone back to living their lives. Hinduism is a very diffused kind of religion that way and very accommodating and accepting of any doctrine that one may espouse. The people of India in his time would mainly be Buddhist and Hindu and Jesus would certainly have been heard with interest by them, and there may even be some minor legends associated with him in some parts of India”

“Do you know of any of the legends?,” asked Joseph.

“Yes indeed I do.”