Traveling is good
The breath taking view of the hills and forests made our trip thoroughly enjoyable and the fresh mountain breeze made us forget all our worries .It was a memorable experience travelling on the serpentine road running along deep gorges with towering pine trees along the road .
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The competition gradually became tougher and louder till there was a total din. Amidst the chaos, looking at the prospects of not being able to find a clear-cut winner, the challenge-competition was halted in the middle. In that interlude it was the perfect time for telling the story of an old woman, who lived alone in a hut at Jabalpur about 650 years ago.
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Next morning, when his men would have assembled to start the construction again, Colonel Smith shared his dream with them. In their collective despair arising from unsuccessful attempts at building the factory, they would have decided take a chance with the dream and started to dig out the ground to retrieve the idol. I have no idea how they would have searched and found the exact place for digging. Either they would have tried at different places all over the premises or would have taken the help of some wise men who could sense the presence of any heavy object beneath the ground.
Next few days, the construction of the factory was stopped. Instead there were hectic activities in search of the idol. Finally, after a massive search and digging below the ground, the idol of Lord Hanuman was found. It must be a joyous moment not only for all the workers but also for the officers, especially Colonel Smith. He must have run to the site from his tent to see the last stages of the recovery of the idol. He must not have believed his eyes on what he would have seen. The dream that he saw was becoming a reality. Standing in front of the trench, he would have gone through the plethora of emotions ranging from disbelief to happiness and further to extreme sense of faith.
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In despair, when I came out of the inner sanctum sanctorum, my eyes fell on the outer wall of the main dargah. There were two marble plates fixed on the walls on which the life story of the Shaikh was inscribed. Hazrat was born in Lucknow, in a family that had migrated to India from Iran. His grandfather and father were given the positions of responsibilities in the government of those times and they soon had become part of the elite class of Lucknow. Hazrat was born with a fire of longing in his heart to know almighty and was always searching for knowledge by going to one teacher to another. During such exercise, he came to know about a Sufi Shaikh Shah Maqsus Alam residing in the town of Banda. In the tender age of 13 years, he left the comforts of his home surreptitiously and went to Banda and became the disciple of Shaikh Shah Maqsus Alam. There he acquired spiritual and worldly education. After the demise of the shaikh, he went to Bareilly to become the disciple of Hazrat Tajul-Aulia Shah Nizamuddin Hussain (R.A.). Though later he got married and had children, but his life was totally dedicated to the Sufi ways and traditions. During the first war of Independence, Hazrat Meerja Agah came to Jabalpur. There he established his Sufi tradition called “Agahiya Order” and in 1918 AD, he went for his heavenly abode.\
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But deep down in my heart, I knew that I had chosen for that boat ride not because of my friend, but because of the Narmada. And, the Narmada never fails. It was she, who was nursing me while I sat heads down at the Gwari Ghat. It was she, who persuaded me to cross her so as to uplift me from a very deep guilt. If that being so, it was not possible that she would be letting me stand on the other side of the Ghat for the night. While, I was brooding over all that, suddenly we saw a boat crossing past us. We shouted for help, but he did not stop and went past sailing over the water. My friend lost his control and started cursing the boatman, both who had left us stranded and also who had sailed past us.
Half an hour or so more again passed with no means to go to the other side. The fear of being stranded on the dark ghats in the night was started as a test against the patience and the faith towards Narmada. Just in time, when the faith and the impatience started to rumble in the mind, we saw a boatman sailing towards us from the other bank. Gradually, the blurred image of the boatman became crystal clear. He was “our boatman”, with his boat.
Subsequently, we walked upto the “Top tea stall” in Pushkar. We just had poha before and now needed a cup of hot tea. So, we sat down on the bench there for some time till we sipped the best tea of the city. The top tea in the Pushkar market was served on disposable cups. The tray was a luxury given to the families. Otherwise, you pick up your cup from the stall itself. We had settled down on the bench and were admiring the market. The market was gradually opening to a pleasant morning. The rush was also gradually increasing. People from all walks of life were coming to pay a visit to the temple of Lord Brahma.
Many foreigners, who had stayed long, had taken motorcycles to roam around the city and its outskirts. Enfield Bullet was a general favourite. In the hippy style, these foreigners were driving their bikes on the road as if the road belonged to them. Suddenly, a Rajasthani Milkman came to the Tea stall. He was a tall, lean and handsome man in his fifties wearing Kurta and Dhoti and leather Jutis. His turban was of the same type that was worn by herdsmen which we had seen on the highways. The golden ear-rings and Silver bracelet on his wrist were indicating his economic status. His confident gait and the personality were reflecting his social status that he must be commanding in his community. He sat silently and sipped his tea. After finishing his tea, he got up, paid the amount and left. I could neither click his picture nor hear his rags to riches story. But the picture of the brass containers, used for carrying milk, on the delivery-motorcycle was telling the story of his financial success.
From Anasagar Lake, we had taken a horse carriage and reached at the Delhi Gate. Area near the Delhi Gate was full of Car…
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The monastery is placed at the centre top of a brown mountain cliff and appears as if suspended in the middle of it. A narrow road with many steps will take you inside to this wonderful cave monastery. This monastery has many elegant frescoes. This is one of the old Buddhist monasteries in Ladakh region.
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According to Dwadasha Jyotirlinga Stotram, there are twelve Jyotirlings in total and Grishneshwar Jyotirling is considered to be twelfth. This is located at a village called Verul, which lies 35 km from Aurangabad in Maharashtra and approximately 100 kms from Manmad station.
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Shani Shingnapur is perhaps the most popular place for all Shani Dev devotees. Shignapur is situated at a distance of 6 kms from Ghodegaon on Aurangabad-Ahmednagar highway. Its distance from Aurangabad is 84 kms, 75 km from Shirdi and from Ahmednagar it is 35 kms. From Ghodegaon, there is a motorable tar road up to the idol of Shri Shaneshwar and is open in all the seasons.
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After five minutes, suddenly door was open and we were asked to go for darshan- as there was some delay in the Aarti. We entered from one side and have darshan and came out from another door, just opposite to entrance. After darshan we also went to Dwarkamai, Chavadi and Gurusthan. These all places are on the backside of Samadhi temple. There is also one canteen serving snacks, tea and coffee.
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There is a mountain named the Brihmagiri Mountain 18 K.M. from the city of Nasik in the Nasik district. This is one of the parts of the Sahayadri Vallies. The city of Trimbakeshwar is located in the bottom of this mountain. This is a beautiful natural place with the cold weather as it is situated 3000 ft. above from the sea
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