HOW GREEN WAS MY VALLEY( PART 2)

 Going to Dehradun, my home town, is always such a joy and now that the umbilical cord has been extended it is even more joyous to visit the Doon valley.

This time I am visiting Doon after my wedding, the second one . My few friends still think as to why  did I get married again?  Apparently, they thought, I had everything. But does anyone has ?

 Anyways I guess it was the Niyati, that is destiny ,that I found my self ,newly wedded,sitting in Shatabdi  train from Delhi to Doon, next to the woman whose hands had fresh mehndi,henna, on them.

The first feeling of joy always comes when you reach Haridwar  Railway Station and you find that the chaos is gone and you  see a lot of greenery. The moment the train started from Haridwar the familiarity with the terrain grew and soon it was the Tunnel time. The all important landmark,the  tunnel, where we would get excited as kids and shout our hearts out, is no longer exciting as technology has taken the joy away from the Tunnel too. It did not get dark inside the Tunnel as the train continued to be well lit inside. I guess the kids now, among many other things, will never know the joy of expecting a tunnel and  darkness associated with it,then shouting at the top of your voice on reaching it.

 Soon we were in Doon.

The familiar terrain gave way to  lot unrecognized construction, some of it  romantically beautiful. But a city man, now that I was, saw the impracticability of living in a house vis a vis a flat.

My wife, also from Doon , and I  kept discussing about the things that makes our Doon so lovely and beautiful. The weather was beautiful, I guess it always is. The air was cleaner,  remember  I am a city man now. Traffic , though , was quite  heavy by Doon standards . 

 I had planned go to Mussorie the next day,after  night halt at my Nani’s place. Ballupur ,the place where she stays, was once famous for thugs and vagabonds in  the evening and now is undergoing the construction of a flyover. My Nani, almost like all Nanis, is quite  full of love, I don’t  think I have seen/met any other women who is so full of love and every time I go to Doon I make it a point  to meet her, and now most of the times  I  stay with her only.

Next day I took a cab to Mussoriee; it was a relief to know that the cab prices were not so high, the perks of staying in a small town.

As the cab meandered through the morning hustle bustle of the town and got on to the road to Mussoriee which slowly climbs up to the foot hills; we kept talking about the old houses we loved and the new flats that were springing up all over the place.

There is this one thing , which may be common with almost everyone growing in small hill towns, that  while growing up you get to see lot of beautiful houses which stay etched in your memory to be rekindled whenever you see them  on your visits.  I also have my list of such beautiful houses in Dehradun .

Some amazingly beautiful apartments were coming up at the foothills of Mussorriee i.e Shahensai Ashram and Malsi. May be one day I will have my ‘Cottage in the Hills’ there and for that I guess  I will have to wait till my bones are tired.

Only a Doonite and Doon  lover can understand the joy it gives when you go back to Doon after some time. It is elating and that is what we both were feeling.

The first stop was planned at Shiv Mandir, where I have always stopped since my younger days. A place which I used to rank high up in religious places for the peace and serenity it afforded. I do not know whether I am  religious or whether I can be compartmentalized into meta physically inclined, with my purpose to visit religious places being able to soak in positive energy, thank the supreme force,if any, and  promote tourism.

Why do I love this particular place?? Shiv Mandir unlike any other Hindu religious place has banned any kind of offering to Gods ;be it money, prasad, flowers, etc. They have bold placards in red screaming at  our faces “Aap Bhagwan ko kutch nahi de sakte, jo bhe dega bhagwan dega” means -you can not give anything to God, whatever has to be given will be given by God.

There are many such placards telling people that any kind of offering to Gods is not acceptable and since it was a private mandir the owners ensured it too. In form of Prasad the mandir would give puri, sabji and tea to devotees. The concept of not trying to bribe Gods for an out of turn favour , something which is so deeply embedded in us ,appealed to me so much that I used to visit it often.

The temple is situated in a precarious sharp turn on the road to Mussorie. I found chaos due to the large number of vehicles which were parked, the  honking of passing vehicles, the number of people visiting the temple, the new shops outside offering refreshment to tourists, the number of monkeys. It was chaotic, quite chaotic; the associated  positivity  with the place  was amiss and probably every one as a tourist  wanted to tick another place and click a few snaps from their mobiles  ,another scourge of development. The mobiles have taken away the joy of visiting places, including religious places.

 The place earmarked to take the shoes off was dirty and  I chose to keep the socks on. The chaos inside was palpable, the lack of positivity evident, the noises louder, the place dirtier. The peace with which I always associated the place was missing. I wanted to go out soon. I did not have the heart to sit on the steps of the temple and sip the Tea, the prasad of temple, something which I did on all previous visits. I did not bow to get the Tilak. It had turned into a commercial place. It reminded me of a shopping mall. It had become a far cry from what it was and why it was reverend. The final blow was when I saw a couple of young girls clicking pictures, holding the Mandir bells trying to imitate Zeenat Aman’s pose from her famous movie ” Satyam Shivam Sundram”.

Both of us, without speaking much, rushed out fast and went to the cab. Once inside the cab, we looked at each other ,disappointed & betrayed.

I literally heaved a sigh of relief when the cab started and  took a deep breath of cold mountain air. I left the memory of the place, the noise and air pollution at the temple behind but all I could think was how green was my valley?, and   this time they have taken away my Gods too.

Written in Aug 14 ,and I have never visited that temple since then .