The Way That You See Determines What You Experience

The Way That You See Determines What You Experience

It has NOT been a quiet week in Lake Wobegone (oops, I mean Kedarnath). There was a helicopter accident that ignited good deal of local anger, specifically regarding the fact that people with money (who often come in helicopters) quite often both hop the queue for darshan inside the Kedarnath temple and also do not avail themselves of the services of the traditional pilgrimage priests. But, I’ve jumped to the end.

The doors to Kedarnath opened on April 30^th. For most of March and April I had been going around to different places in the Kedar valley in order to meet people who would be in Kedarnath during the season. Specifically in April I went to a string of small festivals (“melas”) held in various towns throughout the Kedar valley leading up to Gaurikund, the trail head for Kedarnath. This means that for almost two months there was daily several hours of walking quite often (good for fitness, bad for joints and general restednes), and lots of my having to be charming and prove myself not to be an idiot but rather someone who should be supported and helped, many times a day for lots of days. It wore me out. Then, on April 27^th, I and many others left Ukhimath with the procession to bring Kedarnath back to Kedarnath (there is a special murti used for the purpose of this procession). This walk took three days, with lots of stops, the last day being 14kms and over a mile of elevation coming into Kedarnath at approximately 11,500 feet. My pride wants me to go ahead and say 12,000, but I’m feeling restrained. I was there getting set up for about 6 days (with lots of coughing), then went back to Ukhimath for the departure procession of another form of Shiva, Madmaheshvar, and then was back up in Kedarnath again by the 10^th of May, where I’ve been since.

Being here is hard. I share a room and bed with my friend and research assistant (with a really comfy mattress, thankfully), and we cook in the same room (I’m slowly and finally becoming a roti expert). The base temperature in Kedarnath is just above freezing and rainy, and sometimes from about 9 – 3 during the day it is gloriously sunny and everyone is just a little bit happier. It is also peak season because it is school holidays, and each day brings crowds in unprecedented numbers. Lines for darshan can be several hours, and the temple committee has had to re-adjust its timings so as not to turn people away without darshan. Police presence notwithstanding, at almost any given time during the day there is drama happening at some point in the queue as people try to butt in line using either money, seniority, physical infirmity, or sheer untruth as their persuasive tool of choice. Tempers run high, and it is not uncommon for one part of the line to be singing bhajans while another part of the line is almost coming to blows.

Y’all may or may not recall that my work is to try and understand people’s experience of Kedarnath as a place and of Shiva’s presence in this place, and at the same time pose the question of whether these two questions are really so separate. Because it is high season and all the locals are busy, I’m directing my efforts towards speaking with pilgrims, which is a little like being a door to door salesman for the first two minutes of the interaction, until (and if) bona fides are established and we start talking about “religion”. So this is again wearing, and I have to be very charming many times a day. On the plus side many times the interactions are quite special, and I am collecting addresses like mad. Some day I will make a Kedarnath-pilgrim trip all around India and I will be able to go for months without having to feed myself.

So I alternate between looking around and not really being able to believe my luck at being in such a place, and feeling tired and inefficient and cold and on stage too much and not really able to believe that I’m going to be living mostly here for the next six months (with well positioned breaks). It’s a bit mind boggling to me.

Also, in a second development, I’ve acquired a wireless internet card which means that even though my room is seven miles from the nearest bus I have internet. This means, among other things, that I’ve been able to take stock of how the rest of you are doing, and guess what? You are all getting on with your lives, getting into relationships and getting engaged, professionalizing, etc... It’s hard not to escape the feeling that I am living in an alternate universe, and growing and developing relationships in this alternate universe, and that when I come back I will be where I was when I left and everyone else will be forward. This is to some extent nonsense, Garhwal isn’t Mars, and I’ve got internet to prove it. And I AM learning and growing, etc... But nonetheless, the thought occurs.

Another thought occurs too: I’ve spent much of the last decade semi-steeped in traditional Judaisms and Hinduisms, which among many other things have this in common: where you are from deeply determines who you are, like should cleave to like, and life is to be gone through with a family. And my third community? The university, where where you are from isn’t necessarily who you are, and life is often faced without the comfort of a single (or even multiple) grand narrative stuck on the wall where you can keep track of it. The result is that even though, according to the best part of myself, I’m mostly doing fine and within striking distance of lots of kinds of actualization, that there are large parts of me that feel bad that I’m not, I don’t know, a sacred thread wearing rabbi, that I don’t have a wife and several children (either in Garhwal or Brooklyn, or maybe both), etc... Its all rather dizzying So Kedarnath is a poignant place from which to process all these things, a place where a bunch of famous, heroic, super powerful brothers only just managed to grab God by his backside as he was fleeing them, not wishing to give them his blessing. According to some stories they even hit him with a mace and then had to rub God with butter to make it better (you can read God as buffalo-form-wearing-Shiva if you’d rather—I’m using it for effect). By even the most mundane lights, I’m not living in a normal place.

So I guess what I’m saying is, welcome vicariously to Kedarnath. I’ll try and update regularly, especially with pictures. The best would be if you come to visit, but I know that’s mostly not possible. However, I will say for the record that the coming weeks and months will be, and are, good times for encouragement.

Jai Shri Kedar (Long live Kedarnath!)

p.s. I promise the next post will be more fun.