Banditry is rife in our pilgrimage places.
Apart from the myriad civic problems that your are faced with when visiting a place of pilgrimage, you have to contend with the divine bandits as well. They are everywhere. You have to be at your alert at all times to avoid being conned by one of them.
Let me share a couple of recent experiences so that you know what I mean.
During our recent trip to Rajasthan, we made it a point to visit those twin places of spiritual oneness - Pushkar and Ajmer. One, considered to the holiest of Hindu pilgrimages, and the other, the resting place of the founder of the Chisti order of Sufism. Doesn't get any holier than these in both the cases, does it?
However, our experience in both the place, I am sad to report, was anything but divine or spiritual.
First of all Pushkar:
First of all Pushkar:
Sadly known more these days for its annual camel fair than the place with the only Brahma temple in the world, Pushkar is a tiny desert place full of temples belonging to all deities and sects . As soon as we arrived there, we were accosted by a host of guides telling us that they could take us through the entire place, and provide us with a full explanation about its significance. One of them was particularly persistent, and said that his charge was only Rs 100 for the entire tour. We agreed, and he first took us to the holy Pushkar lake where he related the story of Brahma and His consorts.
Soon, he introduced us to a priest on the ghats of the lake, who he said would lead us into a prayer. The monetary offering was optional, he said. We relented. The priest arrived and went about reciting the mantras and conducting the jodi ritual - oblations performed by a couple. During the process, we repeated the mantras that he asked us to repeat.
One of the things that was subtly introduced was that we would make a sankalpa to contribute 1, 3, 7 or 21 days' daan for the maintenance of the ghat and the lake, and for feeding the pilgrims. He never said how much it was for each day. Naively I agreed to pay for 7 days. When he escorted us to the billing counter, we realised our folly. The amount per day was Rs 2100! I had just made a sankalpa to cough up Rs 14,700!!! When I protested, he said that one cannot break the sankalpa. Somehow we bargained and got the contribution down to 1 day's worth (Rs 2100).
One of the things that was subtly introduced was that we would make a sankalpa to contribute 1, 3, 7 or 21 days' daan for the maintenance of the ghat and the lake, and for feeding the pilgrims. He never said how much it was for each day. Naively I agreed to pay for 7 days. When he escorted us to the billing counter, we realised our folly. The amount per day was Rs 2100! I had just made a sankalpa to cough up Rs 14,700!!! When I protested, he said that one cannot break the sankalpa. Somehow we bargained and got the contribution down to 1 day's worth (Rs 2100).
The bill was made in the name of Shri Tirthguru Pushkar Purohit Sangh, and the transaction looked authentic. So hopefully the money will be utilized for the right purposes. I have no problems in making a daan, but I object to the manner in which the money was extracted from us. Daan should be entirely voluntary. The daani should have full knowledge of what he or she is giving away, and for what purpose. While the latter was told to us, the amount was cleverly hidden away. This, to me, is unacceptable.
Cut to Ajmer. Khwaja Moinuddin Chisti's holy dargah! The Saint who brought Sufism to India!
Naturally, we were filled with excitement and spiritual fervour as the taxi neared the otherwise obscure desert town, only a short drive away from Pushkar.
As soon as we arrived in the tiny parking space that the taxi drivers regularly wait at, we were surrounded by touts who took it upon themselves to conduct us through the tiny, winding roads. One of them got into a tiff with our driver as he heard him advising us to stay away from touts. 'What kind of a driver are you? You are taking away my giraak,' he thundered!
We let the two bicker with each other and started walking up the 1 km long road that leads to the main entrance of the dargah. Actually, crawling would be more appropriate, because there was hardly any space to manoeuvre. The road was teeming with animals, people, vehicles and objects of all shapes and sizes. Touts and beggars accosted us from all angles. Handkerchief sellers stuck their wares under our noses, exhorting us to cover our heads before we entered the dargah. We had to comply with their exhortations.
Naturally, we were filled with excitement and spiritual fervour as the taxi neared the otherwise obscure desert town, only a short drive away from Pushkar.
As soon as we arrived in the tiny parking space that the taxi drivers regularly wait at, we were surrounded by touts who took it upon themselves to conduct us through the tiny, winding roads. One of them got into a tiff with our driver as he heard him advising us to stay away from touts. 'What kind of a driver are you? You are taking away my giraak,' he thundered!
We let the two bicker with each other and started walking up the 1 km long road that leads to the main entrance of the dargah. Actually, crawling would be more appropriate, because there was hardly any space to manoeuvre. The road was teeming with animals, people, vehicles and objects of all shapes and sizes. Touts and beggars accosted us from all angles. Handkerchief sellers stuck their wares under our noses, exhorting us to cover our heads before we entered the dargah. We had to comply with their exhortations.
One of the shopkeepers generously asked us to leave our slippers in his shop. When we proceeded to do so, he burst out saying that his shop was not meant only to leave slippers in; one also had to buy the chaddar. Out came our slippers. We somehow managed to leave them in the communal area just outside the entrance to the dargah. One of the beggars who did not receive alms from us suddenly started gesticulating and demanding her share. Another, desperate for attention, was seen rolling away on the road. In one of the by-lanes, a group of children were staring at a large pig with a mixed feeling of awe and disgust.
We were happy to make it into the dargah in one piece. Finally, time for some peace and quiet, we thought. We thought too soon. For no sooner had we entered, than there were further demands for money from the maulvis. One of them was brandishing a peacock feathered broom in one hand and a bowl in another hand. As I was about to enter the sanctum where the mazaar is situated, he whacked me with the broom and asked for money. When I kept walking, he kept hitting me with the broom! I wasn't sure if he was blessing me with the feathered broom, or assaulting me with his weapon.
Inside the mazaar, another maulvi hung out from the railings and asked for more money. There were attention seekers everywhere. It was close to impossible to even look at the mazaar peacefully, let alone stop and offer our prayers. In the end we beat a hasty retreat.
We exited with feelings of despair, disgust and a sense of relief - at having survived the ordeal without any serious damage to life and limb! It is ironic that the Khwaja is called garib nawaz, but the streets leading up to his resting place are filled by just them: garib.
Such is the state of affairs in our so-called holy places. Over-crowded, filthy, chaotic, commercial and filled with money demanding opportunists.
It is high time the authorities of both the places looked into the matter.
Image sources:
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/f3/Bathing_Ghats_on_Pushkar_Lake,_Rajasthan.jpg
http://www.oneindia.com/img/2015/09/21-1442843637-ajmer-sharif.jpg
No comments:
Post a Comment
I believe in discussions and dialogues, not in arguments and mud-slinging; therefore kindly refrain from the latter. As far as possible kindly provide insightful and constructive feedback and opinion, with sources as applicable.