Kedarnath Temple, seated in the Himalayas in North India and devoted to Lord Shiva (one of the principal deities of Hinduism), must have been the last on my bucket list of travels, what with its treacherous terrain, unpredictable weather, narrow, winding mountain paths and inaccessibility for the less fit.
Yet, despite that, I had always held it in awe and reverence – a temple to be admired from afar – beautiful and sacred, perched high up in the Himalayas, 3,600m above sea level. It is closed during winter, from November to April, and opens briefly from April to November. Even then, by the end of June, the weather turns turbulent, with lashing rains and landslides.
And the end of June was exactly when our entourage decided to start travelling. I tried to persuade the group to change the date, but to no avail.
The organiser, Swamiji Udit Chaitanya from Kerala, was only available during that stipulated period, and travelling with him on this pilgrimage was a rare privilege because of his profound knowledge of the sacred places we were visiting.
As the impending journey was daunting enough, I felt it was prudent to have both my husband’s and my wills prepared!
I also had a video chat with both my children, who were bewildered as to why we had to make the trip when there was so much fear in me. I guess it was my husband’s persuasion and a divine calling that gave me the courage to embark on this journey, formidable as it was.
I reached out to my dearest Guru, Sathya Sai Baba, who is my greatest strength during times of uncertainty. My inner voice reassured me of His protection. And so off we went – an entourage of 23 Malaysians, consisting mostly of retirees, and 28 Keralites. We were one happy family, sharing meals, prayers and laughter.
We landed in Delhi, which was like a sauna, and then boarded a bus to the little town of Uttarkashi. The next morning, I received a message from a relative asking whether I was safe. I was bewildered. Then I found out that there had been slight tremors in Delhi after we left, and even in Uttarkashi. But we did not feel a thing!
All along the way, the journey seemed perilous as the bus travelled along extremely narrow roads, with its wheels seemingly brushing the very edge bordering deep ravines plunging below us. Then someone on the bus spotted the sacred Om on the mountains laced with snow, the very breath and essence of Hinduism carved by glaciers. We were awestruck and convinced of some divine presence guiding us.
Not long after, we reached the town of Gaurikund, from where we had to choose from the transport available. It ranged from pony rides to palkis (palanquins) carried by four men. The fitter among us had the option of walking all the way – 18km uphill through slippery, rocky and uneven paths.
Although we had booked the helicopter service, bad weather had disrupted it. The ponies were too sprightly and unpredictable for my husband and me. So off we went on the only choice left – yes... palkis – feeling terribly guilty as the men huffed and puffed with every step.
The journey up was breathtaking. We were humbled by the towering, majestic Himalayas, with their snow-covered summits glowing in the sunlight, cascading waterfalls and towering cliffs.
At the end of that arduous journey, we finally caught sight of the magnificent Kedarnath Temple in all its splendour.
Standing proudly amidst the Himalayas, it was a sight to behold, surrounded by holy men, colourful in their orange robes, their foreheads smeared with holy ash and vermilion. We were given the rare privilege of performing prayers inside the sanctum sanctorum, thanks to Swamiji’s “connections”.
We spent a day at Kedarnath and then made our way downhill, this time on a doli. It was an armchair-like palanquin carried by a single man. I kept asking the bearer whether he was all right. With a beaming, sweaty smile, he simply said, “Ma’am, I need to feed my family. And I am glad you chose me.”
That was a poignant moment, and his joyful face, filled with gratitude when I gave him a handsome tip, remains etched in my memory. When we reached Gaurikund and got into a taxi, the heavens poured as if they could hold back no longer. Was it a miracle, I wondered, that we had been blessed with two precious days of clear, beautiful weather at Kedarnath?
On our return, we visited Badrinath, the abode of Lord Vishnu (the Hindu Lord of Preservation), and saw a white eagle beckoning us to the home of its Master. (The eagle is believed to be Lord Vishnu’s vehicle). The rare white eagle is considered a highly spiritual symbol. As it glided away and disappeared, it reassured me once again of a divine presence.
There were many edgy moments on our journey when we were narrowly spared from landslides, tyre punctures and long traffic jams.
But we were guided safely through every obstacle, making the pilgrimage all the more blessed and divine.
We returned to Malaysia with hearts brimming with gratitude for a journey that was both challenging and spiritually enriching.
