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My first reaction was awe. My second was shock. I had never seen so many people gathered at one place. The din was incredible. Not to mention the dust, and the pressure of the crowds. What was more amazing was the order in disorder. Everyone knew what was to be done.
It was literally impossible to stand at a place. Devotees ebbed and swelled like giant waves as they made their way to the bathing points. Loudspeakers mounted on wooden poles spewed out a barrage of what I thought were instructions in the native language. In between, devotional songs and loud music filled the air.
Every ten minutes or so there would be a clash of cymbals, blowing of conch shells and the sounding of trumpets. The first time I was taken by surprise. But I quickly realized that these heralded the arrival of colorful religious processions.
One procession that stunned me comprised of naked sadhus, who I was told are Naga Babas. These holy men live in Himalayan snows round the year and descend only once in a while. One of the occasions when they come down from their spiritual abodes is the Kumbha Mela in Allahabad, which is held every 12 years.
They are revered like demigods, and I could see men and women falling at their feet to get their blessings. No one seemed to be embarrassed at the fact that they wore nothing. Their bodies were smeared with ashes, and their hair matted and coiled over their heads. In their hands were tridents, the holy Trishul. Everyone gave way as the procession arrived. There was a thrill in the air, an electrifying acceptance that the mere arrival of these holy men had blessed the entire congregation.
The other processions were louder. Also, there was more fanfare around them. One was led by caparisoned elephants. Behind the elephants were several horsemen and on a chariot sat a peaceful holy man. There was dancing, chanting and breaking of coconuts. Each procession had its own pennants and flags; many even had devotees wearing some kind of a uniform.
The spectacle was breathtaking. I could only see heads, and tents in the distance. I joined a small tsunami of devotees who were heading towards Sangam, the place where the Ganges and Yamuna meet. The third river, Saraswati, can’t be seen but the common belief is that this mystical river also joins Ganges and Yamuna at this point.
I don’t remember walking. It was more like being swept forward in a sea of humanity. There were men, women and even children around me. But everyone seemed intent only on reaching the bathing point. It was electrifying. One person would intone “Ganga Mai Ki Jai” and hundreds of voices around me would erupt with joy and ecstasy.
No one considered it strange to have a foreigner among them. This was not surprising because I had spotted several groups of Europeans savoring this unique festival of faith.
I don’t know when I was pushed into the river. It was only when I hit the cold water and the breath flew out of my lungs that I realized that I was in the river. I could see devotees all round me in different stage of undress. Some had clothes on, some were stripped to their waists, some were only in loin cloths. But everyone was caught in the enormity of the moment. A dip in the Sangam at Kumbha Mela. I was told, washes away all past sins.
I don’t know if I was purified or not but it was not long before I found myself on the slushy sands, shivering and hoping that the sun would come out.
Andrew Wang lives in Seattle area. He writes for the following blogs: Travel Reward Credit Card, Orlando Vacation Home Rental Guide, International Travel Medical Insurance Guide
Copyright © 2007 Andrew Wang
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