The Kid goes to Lambri


Advertisement
India's flag
Asia » India » Himachal Pradesh
October 9th 2016
Published: October 10th 2016
Edit Blog Post

October 6th2016



Lambri Mountain, Inner Seraj Valley, Himachal Pradesh





The choices we make lead up to actual experiences. It is one thing to decide to climb a mountain. It is quite another to be on top of it.

Herbert A. Simon



Over every mountain there is a path, although it may not be seen from the valley.

Theodore Roethke



We are as the flute, and the music in us is from thee; we are as the mountain and the echo in us is from thee.

Rumi





It's early morning, 5am. The man has woken at his usual time and sits (zazen) for an hour. Usually he would then take his time over chai before his daily hatha yoga, but he knows the kid is next door keen to get going. The man is ready by 7.30, even though he had told the kid the night before they would only leave by 9. But the kid wished it otherwise and had already primed his grandma to have ready, this early, four alu parantha for the journey. They have also packed a bottle of water as Lambri is dry.



And so off they go, a 15 minute trot down the mountain track from the house to the road, and then to Sajwad (11 km) by motorbike. From there they would take the 2.5 hour trek up and up to the Lambri summit.



Lambri is a venerated place for the local valley villagers. At 3,500 meters above sea level, its expansive grassed fields (above the tree line) boasts, at this time of mid-Autumn, magnificent views of the northern Great Himalayan National Park in sun-drenched morning warmth. But significantly it is the domain of the Lambri Goddess, where her simple rock shrine majestically overlooks the entire Inner Seraj Valley to the south, below. At auspicious times, local deotas are carried up to this place where puja and (now technically illegal in India) animal sacrifice is performed, midst much pageantry: music and drums and flutes and colour and movement. Thus the Goddess grants the local deota boosted power and grace to bestow to devotees in the year ahead.



The kid is just 13 and has never been to Lambri before. And so this is somewhat a rite of passage for him. The man, who the kid refers to as 'uncle', is a foreigner residing in a separate self-contained section of the kid's family home high on a mountain side. He has been to Lambri once before (3 years ago and alone)*. The family has 'entrusted' the kid to the man for the day. The kid has been allowed to miss a day of school and has dressed in his best clothes. Ever since the man found out about a beating the kid had received a month before and lent him support, there has been a bit of a more special bond between them. The man feels privileged to be the kids chaperone, but wonders if the family has overestimated his ability to find the tracks up to the mountain top and to keep the kid safe.



The day before an entourage of perhaps 150 men had set off from the village of Sojha, 300 meters above the kid and the man's house, walking mountain tracks all the way to Sajwad for the night. They had left for Lambri at 6am and were therefore ahead of the man and the kid. They would continue their pilgrimage that night at another village (Hirdbur), and then spend another day returning to Sojha.



The kid wants to get some biscuits for the trip. The man has packed a banana and an apple... but assures him there will be a shop in Sajwad. There is not. 'Round one' of loss of faith for the kid in the man.



They practice English and Hindi on the way. As with most children in Indian Government schools, the kid studies English but it's mostly rote learning and copying with no real understanding of spoken English. The man is learning Hindi. The kids step-mother is named Kunta. They brush against thorns on the track above Sajwad and the man asks for the Hindi word. It is 'kuntha' and a good 20 minutes is spent trying to get the subtlety of the difference in sound. They are having fun with it all.



The man, 3 years earlier, had reached Lambri from the opposite direction and had only returned via Sajwad, and so he is not 100%!s(MISSING)ure of the way in reverse. There are of
First glimpse of the Lambri ShrineFirst glimpse of the Lambri ShrineFirst glimpse of the Lambri Shrine

The entourage gathered with the deota in front of the shrine to the Goddess
course many tracks and no signs. They take an errant right veer and end up on a steep slope on the edge of the ridge going up to Lambri. The man is not worried because he knows the 'general' direction. But 'Round two' loss of faith for the kid in the man as they seem to him to be quite lost. However, the man directs a sharp left turn up and through uncharted jungle for about 30 minutes, and they find the main track and all is well. Faith is somewhat restored in the man.



The kid has a wrist watch. He incessantly is asking “Lambri kitnanee door hein?” (How far is Lambri). The man, unconsciously, stops and imparts what he then hears back to himself as some 'age-related wisdom' that is somehow appropriate for the moment. “The more you ask about time, the longer it seems. Relax and in no time we will arrive”. The kid seems to get this and they move on oblivious to the passing of time.



They emerge suddenly from the forest and above the tree-line. They can hear the beating of distant drums and the sound of piercing horns... the rath has just about arrived at Lambri ahead of them. The kid is getting more excited now. Passing a saddle between rocky outcrops they glimpse the distant snowcaps to the north (they have come up from the south).



A further 20 minutes across the slanting southern grassed hillside of Lambri they round a knoll only to suddenly view the magnificent site above of the entourage perched precariously on the edge of a sheer cliff where the grass ends, around the shrine of the Lambri Goddess. Higher on the knoll's rocky peak sit a handful of men in small groups taking in the view and preparing spliffs and bedi joints (with charas made from local marijuana grown in this area).



As the kid and the man get nearer, the man recognises most faces as those of the men residing in the many villages near his house below. At the shrine itself, seated on the ground in a small inner cluster in front of the biered deota are a handful of pundits and goors and brahmins dressed in various colourful regalia performing a ritual puja with fire and grains and ghee and dhoop. In an outer ring are the musicians (drummers, flute player, and ornate horn players). There are two goats tethered nearby... soon to be ritually beheaded by a man with that special function who has stripped off his pants and donned a colourful longoti for the occasion. The act is quick and merciful, and juxtaposed with the amount of animal suffering one witnesses in India, you have to wonder about the motive for banning such a traditional ritual. More confronting to the man was the throwing away of a perfectly good goat skin over the cliff once that animal was skinned. It is obvious too that this ancient shamanistic ritual is not about to disappear just because of a modern government law made in Delhi.



Soon roti and warm halwa is distributed to all sitting around on the grass, a very luscious and refreshing treat after the trek up to this mountain top. It reminds the man somehow of the story of the loaves and fishes in the New Testament. And this prasad, emanating from the focal point around where the deota sits, seems to bear witness to the bestowing of power from the Lambri Goddess, as all devotees
Of goors, pundits, and brahminsOf goors, pundits, and brahminsOf goors, pundits, and brahmins

Goors are shamanist oracles and usually have long dreadlocks which are only exposed during religious functions
partake of the nourishing food.



Two enormous eagles glide in from the cliff face, one so close the man imagines just leaning over and feeling the caress of it's soft feather-down underbelly. He gazes into the eyes of the eagle. The kid points to the valley, where 1,000 metres below he has sighted the roof of their house from which they have come. Then after more music-accompanied fanfare with the deota danced and jiggled around and tilted at the Goddess, the whole troupe starts its onward march to Hirdbur for the night and the festive eating of goat.



The kid suggests they start for home, it being 1 pm. The man had been lost in time but realises this is a very sensible suggestion if they are to reach home before sunset. On the way back across the grassy slopes of Lambri, men who have temporarily left the entourage are climbing rocks to reach rare species of vegetation and flowers that only grow at this height and have various medicinal and traditional belief benefits. The man jokes to one man he knows that this is the real 'Raid the Himalaya' (a reference to the name of an annual bike and car rally that passes through their valley each September). He is not sure if the joke is appreciated.



On the way up the man has suggested to the kid that they leave the remaining third of the bottle of water for the return trip. To his dismay the kid has given all their water to others while on the mountain top. The man makes a bit too much of this, and feels churlish later for having done so. It's not that far to Sajwad and in any case they have an apple to share.



Just as they have entered the tree line, the man notices that the kid is having trouble with a thorn that has embedded itself in his thumb. He offers the kid his nail clippers that he happens to have attached to his day pack. He figures better to let the kid do it himself as it will require a little digging into the skin to dislodge the thorn, and this can be painful. The kid has half a dozen attempts but then gives up and offers the clippers back. The man suggests that he have a go and the kid agrees. He warns him it might hurt. The thorn is successfully removed and the kid seems grateful. The man offers him a bandaid but the kid says he is fine, as he sucks the blood that has started to flow from the wound. After 5 minutes of sucking, he asks for the bandaid. The man applies it. This whole process has again seemed to cement a caring bond between the two.



They stop a few times on the way down and share half a parantha each time. As they pass the point where they had refound the correct track on the way up, the man jokes with the kid that perhaps they would like to go back that same 'lost' way. This is a nice moment... they both laugh. The kid maintains the joke as they walk on.



The man begins to feel his aging legs. For him going down is harder than going up. The kid notices this and shows a good deal of care for the man, repeatedly saying “slowly slowly” as they descend steeply down rough rocky tracks. The man smiles to himself, feeling fine with it all, but appreciating the kid's concern.



They arrive back at the bike and ride to the parking place below their house. They walk up to the house in relative silence. It's getting late and both are looking forward to returning home. Just as they arrive, as if scheduled by the gods, it starts to rain. The man showers in his own house before joining the family as a guest to share dinner with them.



All in all a good day. A significant day for the kid. He is happy. So is the man.



* see blog: https://www.travelblog.org/Asia/India/Himachal-Pradesh/Kullu/blog-813188.html



BIBLIOGRAPHY

zazen: meditation sitting

hatha yoga: a system of physical exercises and breathing control used in yoga.

chai: tea

alu parantha: potato stuffed pan-fried flat bread

deotas: gods

puja: Hindu act of worship

rath: the bier and bearers carrying the god

spliffs: rolled cigarette containing marijuana

bedi joints : a spliff using the Indian traditional tobacco roll

charas: made from the resin of the marijuana plant

pundits: a scholar or a teacher of any field of knowledge in Hinduism

goors: the local shamans

brahmins: the priest caste in Hinduism

ghee: clarified butter

dhoop: incense paste

longoti:a piece of cloth traditionally used to cover the genitals, similar to a modern day g-string

roti: flat breads pan fried and roasted on flames

halwa: a local sweet in this case made from ghee and flour and sugar

prasad: most often a food item that has been offered and blessed by the god and then reoffered to devotees for consumption

Advertisement



10th October 2016

Love the story
10th October 2016

Uncle-ji
I am sure the kid loves you, same as the whole family.They respect you, and trust you. (You did a good job when the kid was bitten) Personally, I trust you, too. But, if we talk about going to the mountains and taking shortcuts....buffff, better take a lot of water. However, I am surprised that you always find the right way, the mountain Gods guide you..you are lucky. Nice story :-), thanks.
10th October 2016

mountain gods and me
Well Carme-ji Thanks for these comments... what do you mean buffff.... ? Were we lost that day do you think? Never... I was just testing your stamina :) And yes.... since we are all god.. then the gods guide us... if we trust ourselves no? xx
10th October 2016
First glimpse of the Lambri Shrine

Sweet story!
It's experiences like this, offering an adventure to and bonding with this boy and thus his family, that give meaning to our lives--a way of service to others. And he also learned that on mountain trails, as in life, we often get lost and then found. It's just part of the journey. Good for you!
11th October 2016

A looooooooooooooooooooooong way from Dunfermline
Looks amazing Paul - and that boy (and you) will never forget that experience..............here we are in such different parts of the world having wonderful adventure - life is good. With hugs Marguerite
11th October 2016

Great story Maha Dev. Thanks for sharing such great writing. Looking forward to more adventures...
15th October 2016
Sajwad looking back on the way up

India
Interesting light shining on the landscape.

Tot: 0.12s; Tpl: 0.013s; cc: 13; qc: 30; dbt: 0.0401s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1; ; mem: 1.2mb