A Holiday in India - August 1996 by Jayant Doshi

We landed at Delhi, and after resting for a day, started

our holidays in the north of India, in the valleys of the

Himalayas. We were an international group consisting of

4 from Bombay, 4 from Agra and 4 from London. Our

destination was the vales of Kulu and Manali which are

situated in the State of Himachal Pradesh, north of Delhi

and south of Jammu and Kashmir. Developed in the last

two decades or so, this little developed and un-

commercialised part of India has its natural beauty and

splendour. It is , as we found out later, a paradise for

trekkers, and we saw hundreds of foreigners with back

packs. The natural beauty, the greenery, and rivers and

the mountains give this place a uniqueness of its own.

Our rest day was spent at a holiday resort about 40 km

south of Delhi. Based on the same concepts found in the west, the resort lacked the

thinking and planning required to make it more user friendly, and it lacked the holiday

makers to have the facilities fully utilised.

The living quarters were so far away from

the main building and walking in that heat

was out of question, so we had to spend

hours waiting for the transport to pick us

up. It had a golf course and compensated

for its other short comings.

On the way to Chandigarh, we stopped at

a small town called Karnal and visited a

charity organisation. Based on the

teachings of Gita, the charity is based on a

Ashram with about 60 residents who

follow three simple rules … eat together, pray together and work together, and all the

residents have devoted their lives to the service of the poor. The residents include

professionals like doctors and engineers,

and a few foreigners. The facilities include

a hospital catering for the local poor

people. They teach art work, cleanliness,

cooking and health matters to the

villagers, and sell the products made by

those who have been taught the crafts.

They have financial support from local and

foreign donors, and the whole place

seemed to be well organised and run.

They encourage their followers to stay at

home and devote to the service of other

human beings, instead of trying to join the ashram. The experience and the abilities of the

residents of the Ashram are fully utilised

for the good of the people who serve.

We stopped at a small town called Ambala

at a roadside Dhaba for our dinner. Dhaba

is the popular form of restaurant in Punjab.

While the place was nothing more than a

roadside hut, the food was really tasty.

While India may be going through

liberalisation , the archaic bureaucratic

rules and regulations still remain. All

tourist buses have to pay taxes and give

their route of travel in advance. While all

this had been done, the driver forgot that we had to go through Punjab for a few hundred

yards. We were stopped by the police and fined for this discrepancy. We reached

Chandigarh late at night.

We had an early morning walk to the famous Rose garden which was quite near the hotel.

Chandigarh is a modern city, planned by a French architect and hardly 50 years old. As

such, it is a complete contrast to other towns of India. There is a lot of greenery, the roads

are very wide and the whole city is well planned. One hardly notices any traffic or crowds

in the streets. The famous Rose garden, which contains every sort of rose variety, was not

much of a site mainly because of the rainy season, when the garden is not tended. Also

the roses are at their bloom in spring and summer.

Later on, we had a tour of the city. We

passed the bungalow of the Governor of

Haryana, and on the same road a few

hundred yards down is the bungalow of

the Governor of Punjab where we were

stopped by the police because no buses

were allowed past this bungalow. Of

course, one had to know these as there

are no notices to that effect anywhere.

Then we stopped at the famous, and in

my opinion another wonder of the world,

Rock Garden. Nekchand, the creator of

this garden, was a street sweeper, when

he collected all the thrown away rubbish, such as broken crockery, tiles, baths, glass etc.

and in his spare time started this rock garden. When the people and the government saw

his work, he was given financial help to complete his work. He was commissioned to make

similar gardens in Paris and USA, and today he is in charge of the roads and greenery of

Chandigarh. The whole garden will take at least two hours to see. He has used every type

of throwaway rubbish to create the garden. Hessian cloth and oil drums are used to make

walls. He has used broken bathroom tiles, cups and saucers and plates and electrical

plugs and sockets to decorate walls and thousands of statuettes of humans and animals

he has created in the garden. He has used

marbles and broken glass bangles to the

same effect. He has collected stones of

various shapes from all over the country,

shapes that have an artistic look, to

decorate the garden. It is beyond my

vocabulary to describe this garden, but I

was really impressed by this creation by a

man who was a street sweeper.

We left Chandigarh after lunch and

reached a small town, called Parwanoo, in

the evening. Parwanno has been

connected to a mountain across the valley by a cable car, and a hotel built on top of the

mountain top, called the Timber Trail. The five star hotel had cottages and the main

building. It is cool because of the height, and very misty in the evening. The place is very

pleasant, and the scenery is beautiful. We walked around the hotel area. It became quite

cool in the evening, which was welcome in a way specially after having suffered the heat

of Delhi.

Next morning, I went for an early morning walk in the mountains accompanied by the hotel

gurkha and one youngster from our party. We walked through the mountains and the

valleys, and went to a delapidated castle on another peak. The mountains were covered

with trees and thick growth. The air was cool and pleasant. We watched young girls

picking cow dung; boys, as young as 6 or 8 , were taking cows for grazing. They folded

their hands and said Namaste with a smile. It felt so wonderful to see these friendly

people. We saw various types of fruit trees on the way during our walk. The four hour

walk was pleasant and invigorating, and I appreciated the joy of trekking for the first time.

We stopped at a hill top town called Kasoli. The place is swarming with Indian soldiers, as

China border is nearby. Due to mist we could not see anything otherwise we were told

that one could glimpse at China and the Himalaya range from a high point in Kasoli. The

little hilly town had a square in the middle and shops surrounding the square. We left

Kasoli on our way to Shimla. Shimla, the summer capital of the British Raj, is situated on

very steep hills, and all buildings are on a slope. The town is picturesque. From the foot of

the hills , where Shimla begins, to the top must be over 200 feet. The hills around Shimla

are covered with tall pine trees. The scenery is breath taking and majestic from any point

in the town. Besides steps leading to every point, there are elevators to reach the highest

points. The steps could be steep and going up as much as 200 or 300 feet, and are

daunting and fearsome to the sight, though the locals seemed used to walking those steps.

No wonder, everyone in Shimla looked so healthy, and slim, and their red cheeks reflected

on their excellent health. The town was extremely clean, with dustbins everywhere, and

notices to keep the streets clean. This is in stark contrast to other towns in India. The

shops and their display were more like our London shops rather than the shops one sees

in other towns in India. We walked through the main bazaar of Shimla. It was evening and

already it was feeling very cool. Cardigans or warm clothes were essential.

We spent the night in a nearby town called

Kufri. We had to spend a lot of time driving

to find the accommodation and it was

midnight before we reached our hotel and

everyone was very tired. It is very difficult

to stay in Shimla as parking for the coach

would be impossible. It was raining next

morning, but just a drizzle, and everyone

was in a lazy mood as we had a late night.

That evening we went again for shopping

into Shimla. The next day we went to a

nearby cricket ground, renowned as the

highest cricket ground in the world. It was a

sunny day and we all had picnic and some games to enjoy the sun. From there we went to

Chail which has a palace converted into a luxurious hotel. The grounds have some

beautiful gardens and the views are panoramic and the scenery beautiful. The snow

covered peaks of Himalayas can be seen in far distant horizon.

The next day we went to Naldhera, which has, what is claimed to be the most natural and

highest golf course in the world. Except the greens nothing needs tending on this golf

course as the grass cover and the area is just ideal as a golf course. Some of us played

golf while others watched us and had a picnic. It was the most challenging golf course I

have seen. From there we proceeded to Bilaspur which is situated between the mountains,

and because of that the temperatures rose considerably and felt very warm. It was a great

change from a cool pleasant environment to a muggy, sticky hot climate in this place. The

town is situated on the banks of Sutlej river, and is an industrial town.

On the way to Kulu , we stopped for lunch in a rocky valley surrounded by mountains with

a river passing through there. While others prepared to cook food for an open air picnic, I

walked along the river to the point where it meets and joins another river. There were lots

of trekkers around, signifying the enjoyment trekking was giving to all. The air was cool

and refreshing and the walk did a lot of good to the legs, cramped due to all that sitting in

the coach. After lunch we were on our way to Manikaran where there are hot water

springs and a famous historical Gurudwara, a temple for Sikhs. The drive to Manikaran

was the most treacherous and dangerous driving I have seen but luckily the driver was

excellent. On one side were steep mountains, with rocks lying in a threatening position,

and the other side was steep valley. The road was so narrow that when the coach or a

lorry was on the road, then practically inches were left between the edge on either side.

Recent rains had eroded some of the road ends making it more difficult. When a coach or

lorry came from the opposite side, there would be a slight space for overtaking, and when

overtaking took place then literally only two or three inches separated the two vehicles.

Under these circumstances we saw a lorry with people packed on its floor, on a partition

made half way in the lorry and also on the tarpaulin top… an estimate of 200 people in the

lorry would be a conservative figure.

Manikaran is a small town on both the banks of a river. Because of the tourist importance,

the row of shops leading to the Gurdwara was packed with novelties and goods and

congested with people. The Gurdwara and a temple in this very small place has

accomodation with 600 rooms. This Gurdwara, one of the oldest in India, had no guides to

tell us about its historical past, but the

place was storming with devotees and

hippies and trekkers. Ponds have been

built so that people can bath in the natural

steam water. The water is so hot that cold

water had to be mixed in the hot water

before even one can touch it. The steam

oozing out of the river created a cloud

thicker then thickest fog we might ever

experience here. The water is so hot that

rice can be cooked or an egg boiled hard in

seconds. After Manikaran, we went to

Kulu, and found a nice hotel between the

towns of Kulu and Manali.

Our hotel was built along the river, and the river bed was strewn with huge rocks and

boulders. Next morning we went for an early morning walk. We first walked along the

river, and then went across the road and climbed a small hill. We met a boy who guided

us along another route to the hotel. He told us that he would walk miles to visit someone or

to buy something. Whenever we saw isolated buildings on these steep hills we wondered

how they would cope. But seeing this boy walk, we realised that they were used to

walking in these hills, and walking miles after miles every day. We had games of croquet

and table tennis before lunch, and later in the afternoon went for a stroll in the town of

Manali.

With the troubles in Kashmir, and the greater importance placed on tourism, the

unexplored areas of Kulu and Manali were opened up for tourism only 25 years or so

back, but in this sort span of time the area has developed and grown into a tourist heaven.

It provides for skiing in winter, and raft gliding as well as para gliding in summer. The

area is wonderful for trekking, and one normally see thousands of trekkers with back

packs walking these beautiful mountains. Most of those trekkers are foreigners. Manali, a

small town, catering mostly for tourists, is

congested, unplanned and badly developed.

Recent rains and floods last year had

brought havoc to roads and some of the

buildings. The floods were so strong that the

river changed its course completely, and one

of the hotels where we stayed was half

washed out in the floods.

The next day we drove to Rohtang Pass,

about 13000 feet high on the mountains

which leads into China. The drive to the

pass was picturesque, the streams along

the way were making lovely sounds, almost

music to the ears. There were hundreds of streams

trickling from the mountain slopes. We stopped at a

small fall, and some of us climbed to the top along big

rocks to where the water was falling. Just then we

heard a huge blast that shook the land around us and

no one was sure what that blast was. But soon we

found out that a huge rock that fell from the top during

the rains and was blocking the road was being blasted

with explosives. Their first attempt failed, and when

later they blasted the rock again with success, we were

better prepared for the shock.

Right at the top, when we reached Rohtang pass, in the

mid-summer month of July, there were still glaciers and

snow in patches. Hundreds of people were walking,

horse riding or even skiing on the snow though the maximum one could ski was maybe a

hundred yards or so. But I guess that for people who have never even seen snow or done

skiing, this was a lifetime experience. Those not courageous enough to go for skiing, tried

sledges on the snow. We decided to take a long walk. While it was very cold, but sunny, it

was pleasant . There were hundreds of varieties of tiny flowers, of all sorts of different

colours, on the mountains. Watching those tiny flowers, while walking, was fascinating

and interesting. It was very cold, the cold wind was seeping through our summer clothes,

and the cold created red cheeks and runny noses. At the end of our walk, we saw a dome

shaped hut, the size of a small building (like an igloo which the Eskimos reside in) and out

of curiosity went to see inside.

That was where the River Bees originated from the mountains (water was just coming out

of the rocks, as if nature had put a water pipe )and had become a tourist attraction. As it

happens quite often in India, the place had become a place of worship, with a few pictures

of deities, and the usual equipment for worshipping.

Next day we had a relaxing day, played crocket and moved into Manali in the evening.

The day after, three of us, accompanied

by a hotel staff, went for a whole days

trekking. As I mentioned before, Kulu

Manali is a heaven for trekking, and this

day we experienced the pleasure of

trekking. We started our trek from Sonar

valley, the valley where many famous

Indian films scenes have been shot, and

walked for over six hours, taking a half

hour break for lunch. Some of the treks

were treacherous, specially a river

crossing which we had to cross twice.

The bridge had been washed away and

three tree trunks had been laid across from one bank to the other bank of a fast gushing

river. The water was gushing and making terrifying sound, just a few feet down from the

trunks on which we were walking. The river was looking dangerous, and a slip could be

fatal as there was no way anyone could save the fallen person. The huge rocks and the

speed of the water would drag away any

person within seconds. One tree trunk was

firmly set, the other was swinging at least

by a feet when one walked on it and the

third trunk was too far for use. Each one of

us, helped by the hotel guide, walked an

inch at a time, without raising our eyes, and

our heart beats thumping in our ears. But

the walk was wonderful and all the

adventure seemed worth it. At the end of

our walk, we met the rest of the group as

arranged. They were all busy preparing an

open cooked meal. We were all starving and

had some wonderful food out there in the open.

It was time to move, and we started our journey back to Delhi. The choice was to stop for

the night in Chandigarh or take a long ride to Delhi. Everyone opted for the second choice,

and we had a long but nice and comfortable drive. We stopped for lunch at a hut

restaurant on the way down from the mountainous region. We stopped at a roadside

Dhaba for dinner and that was wonderful food which everyone enjoyed. We reached Delhi

at almost past midnight. The cool fresh air of the mountains was gone, and we were faced

with the scorching heat of Delhi and the pollution. The long journey took its toll, and

everyone slept till late next morning. The heat was unbearable, and one of our colleagues

had some problems in her health. We were invited for lunch by the relative of one of our

group. We all were looking for a cool air conditioned house where we could escape from

the heat. But when we arrived there, we had a shock as the electricity supply was gone

and we were left holding a newspaper trying to keep cool and keep the flies away. After a

delicious homemade lunch, after a fortnight of outside hotel food, was well appreciated by

all, we drove to the station for our journey

to Agra. Two of our party had to fly to

Bombay because of health reasons.

In Agra we had the taste of wonderful

Indian hospitality for three days. The

family consisting of five brothers, each

living nearby each other, in luxurious

bungalows, provided us with the best

cuisine and hospitality that can be

offered. We had a meal at each house in

those three days, and tasted a variety of

superb cooking. Next morning I went for a

round of golf on the only golf course in the city, and which was used by about forty people

over the year. After golf, we drove straight to Taj Mahal where the rest of the party was to

meet us. Taj Mahal, as we read in the newspapers is no longer white . The white marble

has gone off white and dirty due to the air pollution, but its magnificence is still breath

taking. The serenity and the atmosphere are out of this world. It is a pity that due to

security reasons one cannot watch the Taj Mahal in moon light. After capturing the visit on

a camera we went home for the morning

rituals and rest. With that heat it is difficult to

go out anywhere and we all opted for

afternoon nap and rest in the house, Another

member of the group had diahorrea and was

bed stricken for the stay in Agra. In the

evening we all went to a posh health and

sports club where we had badminton and

snooker and refreshments.

The next morning I again went for golf and

after coming home and freshening up, we all

went to Dayal Bagh which aspires one day to

become the new wonder of the world. Planned

in the last century, and construction starting in 1904, it is still hardly half way finished.

The wars and the shortages of materials were the main reasons for the delay. The whole

temple is being built by a sect , and the design of the temple incorporates the architecture

of a Hindu temple, Christian church, a Muslim mosque , Sikh gurudwara and the Jewish

synagogue. I visited the temple first time in 1971, then in 1983 and now in 1996. The first

floor, under construction , has all types of fruits carved in the marble cornice of the ceiling.

The whole temple is being made of white marble. Originally the completion time was

scheduled for 80 years but the wars and the shortage of materials has delayed the

construction. It is now scheduled to be completed by 2020.

We left Agra with some pleasant memories. From Delhi we took the luxurious Rajdhani

Express train to Bombay. After the air

flying and rushing and reaching the

destination in a short time, this train

travelling seems tedious and long. But it is

relaxing and pleasant - no rushing about

or stressing out by waiting or by delays.

While the train reached the outskirts of

Bombay in time, a derailed train on the

way into Bombay had caused chaos, and

we had to spend three more hours on the

train. Bombay, or Mumbai as it is called

now, as always and usual, is busy,

crowded and polluted beyond

imagination, and toleration, but as a regular visitor I guess I have come to accept that all.

While it is known that some people go a

long way to find their roots, that in this

country there are businesses that actually

charge and help one to find their ancestral

past, we Indians have a solid and clever

way of tying ourselves to our roots. Every

Indian family has their ancestral village of

origin, and in that village of origin there is

always some sort of family god or Kuldevi,

where the family member is obliged to go

and worship at an interval during their

lives. Ii is also normal practice to go there

and worship after such major events as

marriage or birth of a child. The ancestral village, and the rituals connected to the worship

of Kuldevi or god , tells one if one is related to someone with the same family name. I had

visited my ancestral village 50 years back as a child, and then 30 years back, and this

time we decided to visit the same place. I was more fascinated by the changes and the

lifestyle, then the ritual side of the visit.

We flew into Rajkot and took a taxi to drive to Jetpur. Jetpur, the home of my cousins, and

where I spent some memorable times in the past, is a bustling town but gives an

appearance of an extended village. The town had become well known all over the country

for its hand printed sarees. Apparently the river water had some special chemicals which

gave extra shine and quality to the hand printing. However, this time I found out that the

use of the river has been banned for this work due to the pollution it caused in the river.

We had to leave Jetpur immediately for our home village, but the taxi that brought us from

Rajkot had mechanical problems, and we had to arrange another local taxi. To our delight,

we had a 1948 Chevrolet as a taxi. Except the body, I do not think that the car had

anything of its original components. The taxi in 48 years must have done practically

hundreds of thousands of miles, but was

still running well and sturdy as a car.

Sitting in that car was like sitting in a

Rolls Royce of today.

While 50 years back, the village was

inaccessible in rainy season, and the most

common method of travelling was by ox-

cart, today I found proper tarmac roads

which made the village accessible all the

year round. In the village, nothing seemed

to have changed. The decrepit houses,

muddy roads which had pot holes all over,

the children playing in the streets barefooted, people sitting under a tree or on shop fronts

and gazing at strangers were same as before. Life seemed to have been frozen since I saw

it 50 years ago. But there was a difference also. The village had piped water, while

previously the women brought the water from the well. The village had electricity supply,

and most surprisingly, TV aerials were

prominent on those roofs, and two large

satellite discs were also to be seen. The

village was the domain of the Vanik

businessman, who ran the business and

supplied the requirements of the villagers,

provided finance at high interest rates. But

over the years the vanik community has

disappeared from the villages. The green

revolution has brought prosperity to the

farmers, and they have taken over the

local business. With declining business,

and the desire of the younger generation to go to the city, compounded by the fact that no

girl will marry a village boy in vanik community, has meant that the villages do not have

any vaniks left. Our ancestral family house was being looked after one member of the

community, who spent some time in the village and the rest in Bombay with his family. As

he explained it, that this was the end of the line. There will be no one to look after the

“family temple” and arrangements will have to be made.

We reached Jetpur in the early evening, and I went into a Durga, a muslim place of prayer

and burial, out of curiosity. The prayers were sung loudly to the tune of drums and music,

incense sticks were lighted and the atmosphere seemed very similar to that of a Hindu

temple. The similarity surprised me, and shows that how much the two religions have

adopted similar paths in spite of the animosity that seems to steal the headlines. I spent

the evening with my cousins, reminiscing about the good old days. The next morning we

left for Rajkot. Rajkot, a major industrial city in India, is a mixture of modern and latest

intermixed with the usual congestion and overcrowding and terrible driving conditions that

are common in most Indian cities.

In the afternoon, we went to a nearby

village to see a charity organisation. The

doctor, founder of this charity started 40

years back, is 90 years old , frail but still

working. The buildings, built over a 3

acre site , consist of a 250 bed hospital ,

mainly for eye operations, but also

including a general and maternity ward,

a de-addiction centre, a school with

boarding arrangements for 100 boys and

100 girls. There was also accommodation

for the resident staff and voluntary

workers - everyone was treated equally. The hospital had the latest equipment and looked

neat and clean and well organised. The charity has 12 buses which go to different villages

in Saurastra, checking all the people with eye problems, and bringing back those who

needed further treatment. Everything is planned meticulously, and every village is

informed well in advance as to the date on which the bus with the doctor will be visiting

their village. The statistics and accounts are presented in great details and impressive.

The patients, together with close relatives, would be kept for five days, and then dropped

back to their village. The Gujarat government , based on a study, found eye problems in

population in the proportion of 10 per 1000 and have vowed to reduce this to 5 per 1000.

This charity has taken up the challenge to

accomplish this target for Saurastra within

3 years. Gujarat government, in recognition

of the wonderful work being done by this

charity, have decided to support their

efforts by paying Rs.250.00 for every eye

operation carried out. The de-addiction

centre caters for those addicted to tobacco,

alcohol or drugs. The charity is funded

mostly from donations from abroad,

specially Switzerland. The charity helps

the villages nearby by building dams and

helping out in health and other matters.

The past president of Navnat, Vinod Udani was in Rajkot, and I managed to track him

down late at night. It was a pleasure to meet him, and nice to see him enjoying his

retirement. As per his habits, he has got well engrossed in social work over there. Next

morning I visited an orphanage, accompanied by Vinod Udani. Navnat has been

supporting this charity for many years. The orphanage is divided into two buildings. One

building caters for children from birth till 7 years, and they are moved to another building.

We were shown around the place. The place was neat and clean. Children seemed to be

well looked after. Besides being given education, the children were also trained in

household chores. This charity is one of two in Gujarat, which are government approved

for grating children for adoption in overseas countries. The organisation seemed

professional in their work, and well managed. It was a pleasure to see that the money we

have been sending was being well utilised.

Soon after we flew into Bombay, and were

on our way to Poona in the evening. Poona

is a large city about 100 km from Bombay,

but being at a height, the climate is cooler.

During the British Raj the army used to be

stationed here, and some of the famous

leaders during the independence fight

were jailed in this city. The highlight in

Poona was a visit to an organisation that

works for partly disabled and retarded

children. The person who runs the

organisation is himself the father of a

partly retarded child. He realised that bringing up such a child when both the parents are

working for a livelihood is a difficult task. Realising the problems other parents would be

facing, he decided to start this centre to look after such children. The place consists of ram

shackle huts and sheds, made with the barest possible expense and resources, but

sufficient to keep those children under cover and protection. There are over 50 children

there, and the government has recognised the good work and given recognition and

financial support to the institution. They are planning to move to some better

accommodation in the near future. But what they had accomplished with the meagre

resources and the achievements were remarkable.

On arrival back, and as I had some time in

hand, I decided to visit the famous

Swaminarayan temple in Ahmedabad,

called the Akshar Dham. The temple is

outside the city, built over several acres of

land, it has beautifully laid gardens, and

children’s rides. The temple itself is nice,

but the exhibition halls that adjoin the

temple are impressive. Using modern

technology, the exhibits display the

teachings of the religion, and a

picturisation of the epics of India. The

whole place is immaculately built and

maintained, and reminds one of the Disney land in Florida. This place is built and run on

similar precise methods. It takes over three hours to see the temple and the exhibition

halls, and one can then spend a few hours in the gardens.

India is always full of surprises, it takes a lot to get used to its eccentricities , its crowded

streets and traffic with no rules and laws, the smoke and the pollution is choking, but

amidst all that there is still great fascination for the country, and no matter what bad

experiences one has, the desire to go again is always there. We had a mixture of good and

bad days on this holiday, but looking back on it we all would love to go again.

The best time to go to Kulu Manali is from April to June, and September to October. While

we travelled by bus from Delhi, on hindsight, I would suggest that it is better to fly to Kulu,

and then do the travelling. We had to stop at Kulu Manali, but I am informed that there are

some lovely places towards Dalhousie and also the Ladakh area and anyone planning

these holidays should include those places in their itinerary. While the area has some

scenic and natural beauty, its importance and pleasure is in trekking.

(website : www.jayantdoshi.yolasite.com)