Ardh Kumbh Mela
Allahabad, now Prayagraj is home to the biggest Kumbh Mela that is organized every three years at either Nasik, Ujjain, Allahabad or Haridwar. It is the biggest peaceful gathering in the world. UNESCO even calls it an intangible cultural heritage of humanity.
My grandmother described to me the wonder that this Mela is on one idyllic weekend. She is a native of Allahabad and has seen many Kumbh Melas during her lifetime. Her descriptions piqued my curiosity and made me want to witness this mad congregation for myself. On her suggestion, I booked the train tickets for one weekend for the both of us to go to Allahabad. The train departed at 10:00 pm from my hometown and would arrive in Allahabad at 10:00 a.m, the next day.
Early morning, my grandmother is accustomed to starting her days with a cup of tea. As I ventured on the railway platform to get one cup for her, the train left the platform while I ran with the tea cup to the nearest coach. I spent the next hour by the gate sipping on tea while enjoying the early morning wind and the plains and towns of UttarPradesh. I also chatted with a person who stood near the gate and had an accent peculiar to the region. We passed the city of Lucknow and here I changed back to my own coach. I spent the rest of the journey hearing stories about my grandmother’s childhood in Allahabad. We reached Allahabad around 12:00 noon.
Right from the railway junction, the city seemed to be prepared to absorb the massive influx of people that it would witness for the next three months. There were special trains to ferry people in and out of the city and areas where people from different nearby regions could rest. The entire city was painted to depict the legend upon which the Kumbh is based. On fly-over pillars in a series of paintings, the story of how gods and demons fought over a pot (“kumbh”) was clearly depicted. One of these gods (Lord Vishnu) dropped nectar of immortality from this pot at the four places where the Kumbh is held. The congregation comes to bathe in the holy waters to redeem themselves and seek immortality.
With the Kumbh, I feel that you have to see it to believe it. I could tell you that it was spread over 2500 hectares, but the numbers don’t really capture the magnificence of it. As far as your eyes could see, there were tents and people along the banks. It was a horizon full of people and tents.
The Kumbh itself was closely organized with sanitation workers, security, roads and sectors. It was as if a city, with electricity, water and roads had been created within a span of a few months. And in this city, there were babas (spiritual guides) of your pleasing. Ones that don’t want to walk on earth, ones that want to stand on one feet, ones that don’t like clothes, ones that like pot, ones who have followers to build large auditoriums, one that you see on tv, one who are aspiring to come on tv, ones who are called aghoris, ones who want to be called aghoris, ones who cared about the legend, one who only care for an easy escape. It was a big chaotic setup. There were Babas sitting wearing shades, some on cycles, some begging, some getting high, some dancing nude.
Through the entire journey, I could only sit with my mouth zipped. Even while in the car, the Mela seemed to go on forever. There were special auditoriums that had been build by some Babas to hold their congregations. On the way back, we used one of the pontoon bridges (temporary bridges) that had been created over the Ganga. My grandmother left no opportunity to impress upon my how well she knew the city. She would suggest alternative routes, exclaim where new building had come up and narrated the history of those that still stood.
The next day, we went for a boat ride in the Ganga. In Allahabad, the Ganga and the Yamuna meet with a mythical river, Saraswati to form a confluence called Triveni Sangam. At the Sangam, one can clearly differentiate where the Ganga and the Yamuna meet because they carry water of different colors. There were thousands of white birds who swayed with the river currents on its surface. When our boat approached, they circled us in search for food. We fed them some that we had bought along. I held my hand out to see if the birds would risk eating off my palm and indeed after some time, some birds came along to lift food in-flight. The Ganges is a beautiful river. I was surprised to see it so clean. Moreover, there were police patrols in the river and boatmen were required to wear id cards.
Seeing the Kumbh from the river was another sight to behold. It was expansive. And to think that on a bath day, only heads are visible on the banks made me appreciate the scale of this event. That this ancient ritual continues to this day and only grows with time is testimony to how much these legends mean to people in our country. While on the return journey, the sun had begun to set. A train could be seen crossing the Ganga using a overhead bridge, some distance away. Some years back, this was the only bridge that connected the two banks of the river. The boatman told us how after a day of hard labor, he falls into a deep slumber. He told us what the boat means to him and how his father had also spent a lifetime rowing boats. By this time, the lights in the Kumbh lit up, and its magnificence once again held me breathless.
The weekend ended before I knew it and I had to return back to Delhi. My grandmother decided to stay back with relatives and enjoy the city of her childhood for a few more days. Being on a unconfirmed RAC ticket, I had to share my seat with an investment portfolio manager from Bombay, who had also surprisingly come all the way to see the Kumbh. Because it was difficult to sleep, we spent the night talking with another RAC law college student. At around 2:00 we got our own seats and slept. I woke up when the train stopped in Delhi.
