Jyoti, Ishaan and I spent a week in Jamshedpur this May visiting my in laws. I left a couple of days before them - the plan was to visit Puri, sun temple at Konark and Bodh Gaya. The overnight train from Jamshedpur to Puri was about 4 hours late. The drizzle that accompanied the train in the early hours of the morning had become a heavy unseasonal downpour upon arrival at Puri at 10:30 am. I just sat on the platform for an hour, reading, waiting for the showers to ease up. The station was extremely clean - surprising given that Odisha is one of the most backward states in India. Post noon, I had a bite to eat at the railway canteen, took a shared auto to the bus station and boarded a minibus headed to Konark. It took an hour for it to fill up and get moving, and another half hour to leave the narrow lanes of Puri behind.
The 30km ride to Konark was through a pristine forest area, the road running parallel to the coast for the first half, then hugging the long Chandrabhaga beach providing a view of its mighty waves, and finally turning inland for the last 3 km to my destination. The sky was overcast and a faint drizzle was on - it meant the colors of the sun temple would be muted, but I'd be saved from the scorching Odisha summer sun.
The 13th century temple is built in the form of a chariot of the Sun-God and has elaborately carved wheels, pillars and walls, earning it a place in UNESCO's World Heritage List. Most visitors seemed to be from the neighbouring areas, with the odd foreigner or tour group from some other part of the country. The original inner sanctum which was 70 meters tall no longer stands, and even what's remaining is only partly accessible due to the weakened structured. I spent half an hour at the site and headed back to the bus stop.
It took 90 minutes to arrive, and had standing room only. It broke down 5 minutes later at Chandrabhaga beach - it's steering rod had just come off and there was no hope of it being fixed. What's more, it was the last bus headed to Puri for the day, and I had a train to catch that night. There was a tourist bus parked a block away that was about to leave. It was getting dark, and it called for desperate measures. I requested the guy who seemed to be their leader to give me a lift, but he refused. My repeated entreaties were met with a firm no. When the bus started, I just boarded without his permission and kept pleading. The guy said he didn't know me so I showed him my driving license and told him to take down my name and address. Finally he relented and asked me to take a seat next to the driver. Later on I chatted freely with him and got to know that they were a Maharashtrian pilgrim group from Manmad who had come to visit Jagannath temple at Puri. When I asked him how much did I have to pay for the seat, he requested me to just tip the driver. Upon reaching Puri station, I realised I only had 500 rupee notes, so I asked the driver to wait till I got change. The nearby ATM also had only 500 notes so I finally had to buy something at a store to get change.
The scheduled departure of my train was still 3 hours away and I had enough time to visit the Jagannath temple. Fortunately there were no queues to get in. Adjacent to the exit was a shop selling milk with cream in an earthen pot, and one could see the milk being boiled in the hot cauldrons. Quite a crowd had built up there so I had a portion too, and then also tried some Rabdi at a nearby shop.
It took 90 minutes to arrive, and had standing room only. It broke down 5 minutes later at Chandrabhaga beach - it's steering rod had just come off and there was no hope of it being fixed. What's more, it was the last bus headed to Puri for the day, and I had a train to catch that night. There was a tourist bus parked a block away that was about to leave. It was getting dark, and it called for desperate measures. I requested the guy who seemed to be their leader to give me a lift, but he refused. My repeated entreaties were met with a firm no. When the bus started, I just boarded without his permission and kept pleading. The guy said he didn't know me so I showed him my driving license and told him to take down my name and address. Finally he relented and asked me to take a seat next to the driver. Later on I chatted freely with him and got to know that they were a Maharashtrian pilgrim group from Manmad who had come to visit Jagannath temple at Puri. When I asked him how much did I have to pay for the seat, he requested me to just tip the driver. Upon reaching Puri station, I realised I only had 500 rupee notes, so I asked the driver to wait till I got change. The nearby ATM also had only 500 notes so I finally had to buy something at a store to get change.
The scheduled departure of my train was still 3 hours away and I had enough time to visit the Jagannath temple. Fortunately there were no queues to get in. Adjacent to the exit was a shop selling milk with cream in an earthen pot, and one could see the milk being boiled in the hot cauldrons. Quite a crowd had built up there so I had a portion too, and then also tried some Rabdi at a nearby shop.
The train left Puri at 10 pm and reached Gaya at 3 pm the next day, so I was subjected to the average railway food for breakfast and dinner. I got a chance to finish "Jane Eyre" that I had started reading a few days earlier in Jamshedpur. From Gaya station, a 30 minute auto ride brought me to Bodh Gaya and I realised upon arrival that it was Buddha Purnima that day!
The Mahabodhi temple isn't an architectural marvel, but is nevertheless a UNESCO heritage site, being Buddhism's most revered place. The temple was full of local devotees, international visitors and pilgrim groups from the Nagpur / Vidarbha area. A couple of monks were giving discourses under the Bodhi tree where the Buddha is supposed to have received enlightenment. Outside the main temple, given the occasion of Purnima, there were stalls for free juices, medical check ups etc.
After the main temple, I visited the ones setup by Buddhist organisations from various countries, each with its corresponding architecture - Chinese, Japanese, Thai, Burmese, Tibetan, Bhutanese and even Lao and Cambodian. For an early dinner I had some momos and khasta-chokha accompanied by lassi.
The Mahabodhi temple isn't an architectural marvel, but is nevertheless a UNESCO heritage site, being Buddhism's most revered place. The temple was full of local devotees, international visitors and pilgrim groups from the Nagpur / Vidarbha area. A couple of monks were giving discourses under the Bodhi tree where the Buddha is supposed to have received enlightenment. Outside the main temple, given the occasion of Purnima, there were stalls for free juices, medical check ups etc.
After the main temple, I visited the ones setup by Buddhist organisations from various countries, each with its corresponding architecture - Chinese, Japanese, Thai, Burmese, Tibetan, Bhutanese and even Lao and Cambodian. For an early dinner I had some momos and khasta-chokha accompanied by lassi.
The hotel Bodh Vilas I had booked was probably the farthest from town. An auto guy offered me a free ride to a temple close by when I asked him for directions, and then I walked another 500 metres on an unpaved deserted road in the dark to reach there. The place was new and comfortable though, and I was happy to have a big clean bed to myself after two consecutive nights on the train. The plan for the next morning was to reach Patna and take a flight to Mumbai - it was via Ranchi and Jyoti and Ishaan were to board there. I got a glimpse of the real Bihar during the day.
I got speaking to a gentleman in his early thirties in the shared auto I took for Gaya. He kept peppering me with questions along the way. The conversation went along the following lines
NG (Nosy Gentleman): Bambai mein kya karte hai?
Me: Bank mein naukri.
NG : bank mein peon hai ya clerk?
Me: Clerk hai.
NG: Bodh Gaya shanti ke liye aaye hai?
Me: Haan
NG: Ab Shanti se jyaada insaan ko kya chahiye? Kitne bacche hai aapke?
Me: Ek
NG: Ladka ya ladki
Me: Ladka
NG: Abhi Kahan Ja rahe hai?
Me: Patna
NG: Hum bhi wahin Ja rahe hai. Aap fikr na karein, hum pahuncha denge.
After a while, he dozed off, leaning on my shoulder. India really flummoxes me. A country where some people are untouchable while its acceptable to rest your head on the shoulders of a perfect stranger. The modern Urban Indian often says that while his clothes and cars maybe western, his heart is Indian. But I dare say his or her take on both physical and informational privacy is much closer to the west.
The conversation continued at Patna station
Me: Ticket kahan se leni hai?
NG: are ticket ki zaroor nahin
Me: main le leta hoon (I get one for myself, and then realising the train is gonna be packed like a tin of sardines ) Bus nahin jaati Patna?
NG: jaati hai, lekin sau se jyada rupye legi. Aap to jawaan Aadmi hai, chadh jaiye train mein!
This "jawaan Aadmi" couldn't confess that he was a urban softie, and decided that train it wouldbe. As the train chugged in I saw some people jump off the platform, cross the track and prepare to board from the other side in order to maximise their chances of getting a seat. I thought about it, and said no it's too dangerous, then figured I'd have to stand for 2.5 hours, and after vacillating 5 times took the plunge myself ! Living the common man's life in India is the worlds most dangerous adventure sport !
I climbed on from the other side and got a seat. As the others were scrambling in from the correct doors, one guy just placed, through the window, his handkerchief on one seat and kept telling people who tried to occupy that seat that it was reserved. He did have a menacing look, and I remembered the horror stories I had heard in childhood that people were evicted even from their reserved seats in Bihar and were brutally beaten if they refused. Someone took that seat anyways, ignoring his threats and I heaved a sigh of relief that the man was not to be seen again once the train departed.
The highlight of the journey was overhearing a conversation about marriage between a single man probably in his 30s and a woman in his 50s who seemed to have realised at the beginning of the journey they knew some people in common. The guy was talking about the challenges of finding a bride and the meaning of marriage , and the woman contributed her matronly two cents. At one point, she said "Shaadi Ek Sanjog hai", and the guy replied, with the mannerism of a philosopher, "Shaadi Sanjog bhi hai, Samjhauta Bhi". But why should I be surprised - this was the land of Buddha, Ashoka, Chanakya, and Mahavira ! At one point the woman remarked that an educated man made a more eligible bachelor, even if he was living in a rented apartment. I was glad to hear that .
I had a few hours to spare in Patna before my flight time, and headed to Kumhrar park, where there are some remains of the ancient capital of Pataliputra. Barely a pillar and a few broken walls stand where 2000 years ago stood India's greatest city, described by the Greek historian Megasthenes as more impressive than the mighty cities of Ancient Persia.
The next destination was Gurudwara Patna Sahib, the birthplace of Guru Gobind Singh, considered the most sacred site for Sikhs after the Golden Temple. The temple itself was clean and efficiently run, as any Sikh place of worship tends to be, but the neighbourhoods I passed though to get there were the filthiest I have seen. There is a good reason no one visits Patna as a tourist, and I couldn't wait to get out of there and head to the airport.
