THE SECRET REVEALED

SO   ENIGMATIC 

The Governer's House Srinagar

ON THE ROAD TO SHIMLA SRINAGAR AND SEVENTH HEAVEN

Part 3

Twelve days into my Indian odyssey and I am salivating for a thick juicy medium rare US Sirloin steak, with béarnaise sauce and a baked potato.  Food variety deprivation, makes the stomach grow fonder.  This is what my wandering mind escaped to when stuck on the road to Chandigarh from New Delhi’s Indira Gandhi airport.  A herd of cows decided to park themselves in the middle of the road, hence the traffic, hence the steak.  

Sacred Cow in the middle of the street

Mind association truly is the stuff of psychology.            

I don’t mean to be disrespectful but the stomach dictates and it will be another 12 long days before my next encounter of a roast.  At this point, a Macdonald’s quarter pounder would have been welcomed.

For five miles an hour, the journey is going to take ten hours at this rate.  My travelling mates obliterated the boredom by popping a pill whilst I mind associated throughout 250 miles to Chandigarh.  

Nayana 

At Kurukshetra, a Punjabi territory, we stopped at the Saffron Hotel, for bathroom needs and walkabout.  I sat next to a beautiful child with captivating blue-green eyes, a typical Indo-Aryan Punjabi.  And my mind association went to Alexander The Great who probably shares the very same DNA with this little girl. "Aap ki naam kya hai"?  my Hindi is getting more fluid.  She said her name was Nayana which translated means "eye".  No wonder.

Chandigarh our rest stop before scaling the foothills of the Himalaya range, was also our lunch stop.   Unbelievable to pass The MacDonald arch in the distance, knowing full well the menu did not include beef so our choice was the curry house next door.

Chicken Korma with Chapati

Chapati and Chicken Korma was perfect for me.  This north Indian dish rich and tasty made with ground almonds and thick yoghurt, the blend of spices, ginger, turmeric chillies and ground coriander eaten with Chapati bread.   Yoghurt tenderizes the chicken pieces that softens and melts in your mouth.   

Gulab Jamun

Completing the meal, Gulab Jamun just did what no other dessert can do. The sweetness and texture is similar to soft marzipan.  Powdered milk is blended in with flour and sugar and then binded with yoghurt made into balls and deep fried.  It is then soaked in rose flavored cardamom syrup.   Not for the diabetic diet nor the cholesterol diet.   But one bite and you know that you have entered into the realm of waywardness.

The Road to Shimla and Manali  in Himal Pradesh

The road to Shimla and Manali is filled with intrigue, history, holiness and mystical.   Although the British Empire is no more, its echo still lingers on in Shimla.  This was the place the British Raj spent their summer months.   As the car revs into third gear climbing up, a running stream of fresh water follows our pathway.   The valleys noted for its  apple and orange orchard  scattered either side as the road twists and turns reminded me of Switzerland.    The terrain starts to change and it becomes a mountain road with extensive hairpin turns.   The final 100 km stretch to Shimla was featured in the History Channel’s “Deadliest Roads” series for its hazardous driving conditions all through the year.   This did little to calm my nerves as the higher we climbed, fog and ice was blanketing the ground.  Constantly rubbing my Ganesh in my pocket, I consoled myself that I am nearer to God than I have ever been on the slopes of the Himalaya – fate, karma, whatever He has in store for me, please let it be quick.

The view from Srinagar from Manali

The morning light just peaking through the slopes revealed breathtaking splendor. Only 8,000ft above sea level, the air, the view is just spectacular.  I know I am in a special place.   I am in awe of the majesty of my surroundings.  No human can engineer this view, or the purity of air, or the freshness of the taste of snow.  The worries of metropolis living, husband, children, money, all left behind in another dimension.  

This is Nirvana.

There is less oxygen, there is light headiness, and there is a dreamlike float but Shimla is nevertheless a bustling town with carpet merchants, sari merchants, markets and a church.

Woodville Palace

Woodville Palace is where I lay my head for the night.  Once owned by the Commander in Chief of the Imperial Army, Sir William Mansfield, it was later acquired by His Highness Maharaja Bhagvat Singh.  Now maintained by the grandson, Rajkumar Uday Singh, the Palace is one of the classiest places to stay in Shimla.

Jakhu Temple

Coping  with cows on Delhi streets was one thing, but contending with Monkeys in Shimla was disconcerting to say the least.  They are everywhere, on the hillside, on the streets.  Some are fierce, but most live alongside humans.  I plucked enough courage to visit the famous Jakhu Temple, a monkey temple giving homage to Lord Hanuman.   

It was a five minuet long homage.  I'm afraid the simians did not see eye to eye with me, they growled and hissed, and were not allowing entrance into the temple.   Maybe they knew I was from another faith, whatever it was, five minuets there, was four minuets too long.

So if not Hanuman then it’s Jesus as today being Sunday I will be saying the Lord's Prayer and receiving sacrament at the second oldest  Christ Church  in North India. A parish in the Diocese of Amritsar, it was built in 1857 .  The  services were both in English and Hindi and so were the hymns. 

My Mecca

Globe trotting since the age of four, I have been asked many times, where is my Mecca?   There’s no other place on earth that gets me nearer to God, not even the Sistine Chapel at the Vatican, or the Temple of the Emerald Buddha, nor St. Paul’s Cathedral than crossing the dangerous Khyber pass and seeing Srinagar Lake for the first time.

Khyber Pass seen from the Afghan frontier

One of reasons that Kashmir evokes many emotions in me are the numerous lives lost during the Indo-Pakistan war in the 60’s, having lived in the vicinity of Islamabad.  The violent history of the Khyber pass from as long ago as 260BCE, and yet, the serenity of the area suggests stillness and calmness.  As some people are labeled “old souls” Srinagar is an “old soul city” .  Another reason would be that this is centre where all three faiths are joined together. Islam and Hindu with King Ashoka Maurya introducing Buddhism to the Kashmir valley and the adjoining regions, after witnessing the mass deaths of the Kalingka War which he himself had waged out of a desire for conquest. 

Dal Lake, Srinagar

I leave you with these thoughts as I descend into my boathouse on the still lake of Dal.

Perhaps my peace, the harmony within me, my fifth and last stage  of reincarnation requires that I must pay homage.  This old soul is in search for balance and completion with an urge to pass on the torch before the end of reincarnation.