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Witness to a fall [contd]

"Hmm, you want to know about Amarkantak's early history. Well, let me begin with my own story and you will find an answer to your question.

"Sir, I was born in a prosperous family in Karnataka. Ours was a rigid traditional household. Father was convinced that all there was to learn is already in our ancient texts. So the household followed a set routine. Sanskrit, lessons from Vedic scholars, pujas, austerities in food, clothes and needs... these were the stuff of our upbringing. We were indeed a happy family without any care.

"But as I entered my teens, I began to ask far too many questions of my learned tutors. Sometimes they would preach patience, sometimes they would be irritated and occasionally some explanation was attempted. But my questions were unending. What they were is not relevant now. I think it just meant I was dissatisfied with the given and wanted to know what lay beyond our lifestyle.

"I was not quite 20 when I was married. And soon my first son arrived too. But although my daily lessons from Sanskrit scholars had ceased , I would still bar their way and present my doubts for clarification.

"One day, an exasperated old scholar said: "Nagaraja, the answers to your questions will be available only if you meditate on the banks of the river Narmada."

" That started me on my adventure. I looked up a map and found the river snaking across the country. Which 'banks' shall I choose? I decided to go to the origins of the river itself, which meant Amarkantak. I briefly told my wife of my plans and she without a second thought readied herself to go with me.

"In the year 1950, I arrived at Pendra Road Station after many days of journey from Karnataka. My wife, my child and myself, spent the first night at a travelers' free inn, lit by a mournful oil lamp. There was no way up the hill to Amarkantak, except by foot through a jungle trail. Next day, I hired an escort and a mule. Loading our belongings on the mule we began our climb.

"Amarkantak was then a small town of 200 residents. It was surrounded by forests twenty times as dense as the ones you saw on your trek. And it rained practically every day of the year! 115 inches in a year, would you believe it? The place was a huge swamp! Every foot fall squelched. We needed blankets even in the month of June! And started fires to dry our clothes.

"And the Narmada roared day and night, full bore out of ten large ducts. It's a mere stream now, fed by a single puny spout. You can almost leap across it. But in the fifties, within minutes of the temple she was a wide river with swampy banks. Often cattle would get mired and we did not always manage to retrieve them.

"Nights were long and cold. Narmada's roar would get louder and overwhelm us. Frequently, in the night we would sense there were visitors from the jungle prowling. We dared not investigate what kind of animals they were, but they were polite enough to leave in peace.   [NEXT PAGE]