Allahabad: an alien among pilgrims

---

I have been quiet yesterday because I was not in the mood to get out of the hotel. Here’s why.

After my last entry I had dinner on a tree top (I’m not kidding) with a nice view of the temples of Khajuraho and went to bed watching Wanted on Star Movies (That’s the only channel along with National Geographic that is in English). I woke up to the face of Nicolas Cage (I hadn’t turned the TV off…) and left the hotel after a pretty good night.

Breakfast was quick because I had an early train and the corn flakes were stale. The rickshaw driver stopped at a gas station for what seemed to be ages and I finally got in line for a general ticket to Mahoba where I would take a sleeper class train to Allahabad. The line was long and didn’t move much which made me worried I’d missed the train that was already docked on the platform. Just 5 minutes before scheduled departure, I got my ticket and rushed to find a comfortable seat for the next hour.

The Mahoba station seems to be in the middle of nowhere as you can see some kind of palatial structure on the horizon kilometers away. I sat on a bench waiting for my next train, the 11;16 Chambal Express, between a woman sleeping and a cart selling fried snacks in newspapers. I had to fend off some stray dogs who were getting too close because of the fried snacks…

The train left at 11:30. Fifteen minute-delay is OK, I guess. I climbed onto the upper berth I had reserved and went straight to sleep. It’s kind of cozy up there. I built my own fort with my bags and was left alone. People wouldn’t have noticed me if it weren’t for my white ankle sticking out above the walkway. I woke up a few hours later and munched on some cookies as lunch (I haven’t been very hungry since I arrived here…). Travelling on the upper berth is a great experience as you can literally see the world from above and watch the families do their own thing. There was lots of snoring, kids playing and jumping, the ticket controller walking around, food unpacked from containers and the incessant ballet of tea, cold drinks and snack sellers at each stop.

At one point we were stuck for about an hour in a half in the middle of nowhere, nobody knew when the train would leave but it didn’t bother anyone. It’s the usual snafu here. My prayers to the god of trains (there are more than 30 million gods in Hinduism, there’s probably one for trains) were answered with about an hour and a half to go. We arrived in Allahabad in total darkness, at 7PM instead of 4:30 after a bit of pocket lamp frenzy (where’s my camera?!) to the accompanying sound of loud farts courtesy of berth 23. I upgraded my usual hotel choice and took a nice shower in a clean bathroom. I even ordered room service for dinner to watch some cricket (that Chris Gayle’s pretty good).

After a bit of laundry, I headed out into the city. As usual, rickshaw drivers tried to collectively rob me of a few hundred rupees but Tom-the-Canadian-negotiator got one for a fair 50 rupees. Nice job.

Allahabad is situated at the confluence of three rivers: the Ganges, the Yamuna and an invisible underground river called the Saraswati. It’s a tremendously holy spot for Hindus and as we got closer to the river (the Sangam), it got crowded with pilgrims, handicapped beggars hoping for some spiritual spirit and souvenir stalls selling crap and bottles to bring some holy water home. I finally got to see my first elephant, blessing pilgrims for a few rupees new Akbar’s Fort on the riverbank. There’s a group of underground shrines hidden inside the fort, near a holy banyan tree. You need to walk under a wobbly scaffolding to reach it. I started feeling some bad vibes coming from the entrance of the underground shrines. One guy was eyeing me from a distance so he could keep me shoes, the other so he could make me some change for the idols, and one so he could put some red powder on my forehead. And none of these come for free of course. I decided to skip the shrines and go directly to the riverbank.

At the river, I was predictably assaulted by all of the boat owners. Thankfully, I chipped in with Jai and Mr Chowdry so we could get our one boat for 500 rupees. They are electrical engineers from Delhi who turned out to be the nicest and most helpful people I’ve met over here. The boat took us to the confluence itself were people would bathe into the holy waters (Jai did it, Mr Chowdry has “allergies”) and/or give an offering to the river aboard a newspaper ship. We even saw two couples get married. Mr Chowdry was disgusted to see a guy wash his mouth with the river water and spill it all out: that’s not a way to behave with holy waters. I took a few photos to send to Jai (got his e-mail!) then we headed back.

Jai and Mr Chowdry were nice enough to negotiate a tempo for the three of us so that we could go to Anand Bhavan, the Nehrus’ family home. It was a detour for them but they were willing to come with me, at least for the conversation. Once there we took a last picture of Jai and I holding hands in front of Anand Bhavan (like Lord Mountbatten and Nehru, he said) and they went back to their hotel. After a short vegetarian biryani lunch, while waiting for the place to open (they have lunch hours…), I walked around the beautifully kept gardens, watched over by attentive guards (Pffffiiiitttt! Don’t sit there!). The rooms of the building were left as they were with the original furniture Nehru had tea on and Ghandi slept on, and there’s a small museum on the outside. A lot of kids came up to me for pictures and I was in a good mood. When too big a crowd gathered around me, the guards intervened so they could leave me alone. I didn’t mind…

A short walk took me to a park with the Allahabad Museum. It was hot and pretty early so it was worth a shot. There’s not much inside but they have nice miniatures and paintings, enough for an hour walk. The museum was guarded by armed soldiers with automatic rifles. One brushed past me and startled me: I flipped out for half a second, enough to have a gun almost pointed at me. Gulp! Apart from the museum, the park has a memorial to Queen Victoria and a Library in a Colonial Gothic style.

The next cycle-rickshaw had no idea where he needed to go and took me to the bus stand. I punished him with 10 rupees. Because I couldn’t trust any more rickshaws, I ended up walking. I stopped at a shopping center for some cash, shampoo and snacks for tomorrow’s train ride. Then I headed towards Khusru Bagh, the tomb of Emperor Jahangir’s son who rebelled against his father and got his nuts cut off before being executed. Good parenting. There are three other tombs in the free-entry complex for the rest of the family. The sunset colours on the tombs’ red stone was very much worth the walk.

The way back was more chaotic. I had to cross the train station to get to the other side but I was caught in general over-the-top rush hour. Pedestrians couldn’t even move. Cows stayed put and buses kept honking. It was the most congested street I have ever seen.

The day has come to an end in Allahabad as I am about to order some food again to watch cricket in my comfy air conditioned room (Australia vs India!). This has been the dustiest day of my trip so far as my black sockes have turned brown and my brown shoes (“Nike!” as one guy put it instead of the usual “Hello!”) turned beige. I haven’t seen a foreigner in two days which will probably change when I get to Varanasi tomorrow.

Daily nugget: As I stepped out of the boat at Sangam, a kid came up to me with a metal box. I was expecting to see some crap inside that he would want to sell me but instead I was greeted by a smiling cobra, inches from my arm. Probably as scary as the rifle…

---