Bakki : Our own homegrown Oracle

Like other Indians, we too are a paradoxical lot; in part tribal, in part urbane perhaps a little more tribal than others. Think about the tradition of ‘parnaam’, the touching of feet of elders and the toll it takes on a child.  Marriage or a ‘puja’ gathering; a child is submerged in a crowd of old people mechanical touching feet of anybody who has wrinkles on his face. There is absolutely no sense of recognition nor respect, it is just a chore for him and the immediate urge is to get over with it. We have no compunction adopting western attire, eating habits, table manners blah blah but wouldn't let go our tribal mannerism. This tribalism manifest is several ways; existence and awe that a ‘Bakki’ evokes is one such instance.

Bakki is gender neutral i.e. it can be male or a female. Given the power they have on our psyche you would think they are a successful people like the doctors leading an economically successful life but you would be surprised. There is always a caveat in our system; good things come with a price. Bakki probably is corrupted derivative of ‘bak-bak’ or ‘bakwas’ having an Arabic-Persian root meaning idle gossip. Bakki as you can guess speaks, speaks rapidly, sometimes coherently sometimes incoherently which then is left to others to interpret. Bakki lets you into secrets of past and tells in advance future outcome of some tricky issue very important to you. If the out outcome is not favorable then they also suggest means to amend the outcome suitably. In essence Bakki is a witch doctor providing remedy for sometimes explainable diseases or persistent issues that bother us  etc.   

There is a Bakki somewhere near Kotdwara, a Kala woman you can access her services through the courtesy of Manyawar Diwakar. Sir Prabhakar, Master Brajesh are regulars there. If you ask me, I am skeptical about this whole thing, I doesn’t quite gel with our rational thought.      

A Picture From Anandkar Kala

From left - Om prakash chacha ji , my father , rewat daada ji,hari tau ji ,abbu bhaiya ( elder son of Pushpa bua ) , Ghansala maama ji ( husband of Lakshmi bua ) , Diwakar tau ji , Monu bhaiya ( Son of Diwakar tauji )... Occassion was Kum Kum didi 's wedding ( Daughter of Raj kumari tai ji ) in Kotdwar .








Contributed by Madhavi kala

GaiRi ka Gadan: The Marghat - An Analysis

Often it is said that ‘spirits, rooh, bhoot, pret vaigairah’ are visible to some persons only. And indeed only some people tell stories of floating translucent ghosts, often a fudgy white silhouette resembling a human form floating around a dark, lonely house. The simple reason put forward is that their ‘grah’ are weak. But this same phenomenon afflicting a select set of people can have a more rational explanation. It is this; these people are highly imaginative and have low threshold for fear. As a result their perception of fear in dark is enhanced and imagination clouds reality. They seek to see something and their mind projects such a reality.

Question arises then, how some details which this person could not have known, are matched with description of some others? For instance in the case of Badolgaon sighting by Shubhakar Kala, who was completely unaware of the happening in the house, so well described the attire of the apparition matching word for word with ‘taiji’s’ description. The answer probably is that he borrowed the dream from her.

I am not excluding the possibility of real ghosts, a twilight zone where dead exist in transition but it is one explanation, there are other explanation as well to account for strange happenings…     

GaiRi ka Gadan: The Marghat (Final Part)

This is a honest and faithful retelling (but not necessarily the truth) of a bizarre episode as described by Shubhakar Kala. The story goes back a long time in past, possibly the time when that classic photograph was taken in 1963 post marriage of Hari Prasad Kala. (By the way Bhai had a love affair before marriage; that story is as intriguing and will be told in this blog some time later) So the two young boys from Secundrabad, not used to heightened sense of supernatural in a village milieu, had to spend time in daand house. The other folks of the house had gone to attend baraat. Elder tauji being a man of his words, had committed a certain number of ‘baraatis’ so the important gents were included in ‘baraat’ party, the riff-raff left behind. The two fellows from down south found themselves counted as riff raff.  Women as usual were debarred from ‘baraat’. (The men have weird concepts of bravado, conquest; a ‘baraat’ is considered a raiding party and the bride the bounty, therefore women have no role in a ‘baraat’ rather they are expected to be ready at home to welcome the conquering goons) Anyway the house had taiji for sure and may be a few others.

  

It was a moonlit night, a light breeze operating through the small windows. It is early wind up at village due to unavailability electric lights. By nine they were through dinner after some gossip went to bed. Some more small talk at bed and it was good night. Shubhakar, Prabhakar and some other fellows were in the same room, a small window opening to gaiDi ka gadan’ was letting in the diffused light of a bright moon. Soon they all went to sleep…

Past midnight Shubhakar woke up feeling thirsty. It was slightly warm that night not uncomfortable but warm. He began to stir to rise turning over to the side of the windows when he suddenly froze. Debilitating terror striking, causing temporary paralysis. 


He began to perspire profusely, inaudible whisper emanating from him, ‘Prabhakar! Prabhakar!’. The cause of this commotion was sight of a indifferent apparition slipping in through the window into the room, going about looking for something there quiet unmindful of people sleeping there. The floating figure, wearing a white kurta, a weak pale faced fellow seemed to be looking for something there. Then he turned towards him, for  a split  second time froze and then the apparition dissolved. Collecting his wit, Shubhakar  found himself on the floor between his and Prabhakar’s cot, drenched in sweat. Woke up Prabhakar and told the story.

Next day they told the incident to taiji, who shook her head in understanding, said that was your ‘Chacha’ died young of tuberculosis. He is harmless, seen often in that room………..    The most striking part was the attire of the spirit matched word for word with the description of taiji!  

GaiDi ka Gadan: The Marghat (Part I)

‘Marghat’ is a fascinating word most likely a combination of mar -> dead and ghat -> a contraction of ‘ghaat’  a sort of small pier on a river bank. So it means ‘pier of dead’ but its significance should not be lost. A pier is a place where people are ferried to places far away across a body of water therefore ‘marghat’ is a place where dead are ferried to destinations across unknown monolithic space, we can only speculate …….

GaiDi of course is a name of some individual and as you all know ‘gadan’ is dry river bed with scattered boulders of various sizes but rounded off due to years of erosion.  GaiDi ka gadan was a quiet marghat. Daand house was unique in the sense it had its share of arrogance. Built atop(daand) a hill away from the cluster of houses down below declaring pompously I am different and exalted.  The house was not built atop the tallest peak but a wedge like feature protruding like appendix from the high mountain (Chandakhal). The wedge like feature afforded panoramic view of the village below on the front and ‘gaiDi ka gadan’ on the rear. Sometimes when the darkness descends on the valley and quiet is disturbed by crackle of fire down below at the ‘marghat’ consuming the dead, you are bound to be psyched, get an eerie feeling especially when the house is barely populated……….   

One Mind Boggling feature of a Village House..

I as a little boy I often heard that some relative, usually old, fell off the chajja and died. Now I know why. A village house is absolutely bland, not having any aesthetic value. The entire emphasis is on functional requirement;the cheapest, simplest and speediest construction. One expects ages of living and repeated construction evolves into the best building design suitable for that milieu. Nothing of the sort happened in Garhwal. May be it still is evolving....


Essentially a village house in Garhwal like any other in hills have two or three storeys in the front, one less on rear taking into consideration slope of the hill. The house is long, a set of shoe boxes juxtaposed against each other . The lowest part caters to storage/kitchen etc the upper part for living. Bland stairs lead to upper floor, a narrow passage made of stone slabs protruding into free space about one and and half feet wide along the length of the house leads to different room. This passage is usually responsible for death of old people falling into their death. With age our reflex weaken therefore what is so surprising about it? The picture above was taken from the ledge making the author uncomfortable. 


My view is that there shouldn't be any geometric shape in particular the box like construction. Hills have irregular feature therefore house should have curves melding with that milieu.... The unsafe and obnoxious outer passage along the length of the house should be done away with. 


  

A Rare Photograph

A Rare Picture sent by Pankaj......... Recognize all you can!


S/Shri  1. Satya Prakash 2. Kali Prasad 3. Damodar Prasad 4. Swayambar Dutt 5. Raja Ram 6. Girish Chandra 7. Anandkar(?) 8. ? 9. Hari Prasad 10. Budhi Ram 11. Manyawar Diwakar 12. Prabhakar 13. Rabindra Nath 14. ? P 15. Brajesh(?) 16 Shubhakar 17. ? 18. Sudhakar 19. Shambhu Prasad 20. Urmila  21. ? 22. Taiji No 1(?) 23. Taiji No2(?) 24. Bhabhiji No 1 25. Chachi ji (Sarla Devi)   26. ? 27. Narayan Dutt 29. ? 

A Nostalgic Visit To Badolgaon

O jaane wale ho sake to laut ke

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Chronicle of Badolgaon Caullas IV: The Final Act

[This part is tricky; you need to shed your two plus two is four world view. Dynamics of our thinking is very complex therefore simplistic inference doesn’t work. Emotional dilemma is lot more weighty to deal with than physical one. Why do you think some class 10 students commit suicide? Think about it…………]

Durga Dutt Caullla had now veered to firmly reject appeasement theory. He still believed in God but not in the conventional way. God became fudgy concept to him, not quite interfering in mundane lives of creatures but some entity responsible for the affairs of universe. The play of nature was not act of God but random occurrence played out by physical forces. He firmly decided not to have anything to do with the repugnant annual ritual of human sacrifice. The very concept seemed revolting to any sane person’s sensibility. He realized his voice of reason will not make any dent on zombie like stance of villagers rather he will be branded a coward, a renegade. The only way out, he realized, was to relocate.

So be it, he decided. Gathered his flock and set out to make a fresh beginning. It wasn’t easy; he had to deal with revolt within the clan as well as assaults from outside. But he kept his resolve despite ignominy, insults and name calling at every halt on the way. Eventually benign but very tough and inhospitable Badolgaon provided shelter to his clan.. ….

Durga Dutt Caulla’s example was later followed by several others, migrating away from Sumari leading to eventual dismantling of human sacrifice ritual. He was a visionary, a man ages ahead of his time……..

We are children of this amazing individual. Take pride fellows!


Concluded

A Tree Per Family…..

The fellow with broken arm and many teeth missing is apparently some sort of a demi-village official. He casually mentioned that every family is entitled to fell a Pine tree for the purpose of construction of a house. He said you can pick a tree and he will sanction its felling, even suggested choose a hefty one as if you will not know! I have serious doubt at the veracity of his claim. Although there is rationale for such a scheme approved by the government, after all villagers by their proximity to forest hold first right to its wealth, there will be several ifs and buts in any such scheme inviting official approval therefore payment of bribes.  

When discussed with Manyawar Diwakar, he was skeptical about the scheme. He said perhaps there is such a scheme but he hasn’t seen anyone felling a tree. The Government – public interface in India is notorious for engendering corruption so Manyawar Diwakar is possibly right. So everyone out there having a family and plan to build a house can fell a pine tree but only on paper. Pay no attention to this demi-village official who might pompously approve felling of a tree but may as well open door to prison else be ready with a hefty bribe…….        

Chronicle of Badolgaon Caullas III

A hushed silence, a debilitating shock and then burst of activity! The man was quickly overpowered…..The jittery villagers then vent their ire by lynching him right there at the temple. The body was placed at the temple portal and entire village beseeching Goddess Her forgiveness. While an entire clan was wiped out, a sense of unimaginable doom pervading the multitude hung in balance. An eerie feel and an ominous wait for the malevolent juggernaut to trample their lives swept the villagers. The wait lasted for a long time……..

         Nothing of the sort happened; on the contrary happier times came back to village. The cycle of destruction was held back, a gradual return to happier days seemed to be in offing. The rationalization that Goddess was indeed appeased was natural corollary of the shift in their fate. Old days came back, smile returned to villagers of Sumari but all this at a price. The fear always lurked at the back of their mind, the peace was fragile and temper of Goddess mercurial. The folks would go to temple not to seek solace, transcendental peace but to register their utter submission.

         The inevitable happened, the truce with Goddess shattered, cycle of violence returned just after two years. Fed up with the deprivation and constant shadow of mayhem, Govind Madhav Caulla, a bull headed maverick, a young man of intense temperament and obstinate purpose offered himself to deity. All hell broke;, Gavind madhav Kala, an ancestor several generations removed of Kedar Dutt Caulla, was initially not taken seriously but the adamant fellow would not budge.  You do it with ‘vidhi vidhaan’  else I would chop my head at Devi’s idol on my own was his refrain. In the end resistance proved bogus; the fear had taken toll of villager’s common sense. An elaborate ritual began, a proper day to appease the Goddess chosen, macabre act culminated in gore and crimson on Kartik Purnima. The rest as you can guess is history. Peace returned to village and a macabre ritual that turned the villagers into tribals came into force……..    

Final act to follow.......

Sighting of 'Baagh' in Badolgaon

Some blokes sitting near the panchayat ghar in the dying evening and indulging in idle gossip casually talked about seeing 'Baagh' (Tiger) in the vicinity of village. Now Baagh is pretty rare these days, crores are spent on counting them and keeping them alive in reserve forests. I have serious doubt if a tiger is loose on the neighborhood. For one thing a tiger carries a bounty for poachers so sighting would most certainly attract them besides any sighting would also alert the forest officials. And secondly a terrified villager even though knowing the difference between a tiger and a leopard, may identify a leopard to be a tiger. Leopards are a lot more adaptive and deceptive to its environment therefore have survived in larger number. The village folks might have seen a leopard.....Although  'Reech' (bear) is quite another beast one can see while one cannot dismiss menace of boars in the village. Now to cultivate in a village you need to fence the field. This is too much work so nobody cultivates....Malya is an exception. With plentiful water cascading down hill I went round the village and saw barricaded field growing 'mungri' ( corn). Atop charak ki daaNd 'kaa phal' tree were also abloom but there was no time to climb up the hill... 


The gullibility of villagers is amazing. You have to be there to note conviction in their assertion while drawing smoke from hookah and exhaling thick dark cloud in air.......   

Chronicle of Badolgaon Caullas II

Then a period of misfortune befell Sumari. First small pox took toll of a quarter of its population and then landslides, floods …… The cycle of destruction was relentless, seemingly having a purpose. The immediately reflex response of village folks was ire of Gods! But what incensed Gods, a scapegoat was to be searched, a fall guy was to be found. Various theories were put forward, a fault in Puja procedure, vitiated material used in Puja, the priest was drunk on one occasion, gambling in temple.. blah blah. The linear thinking of villagers had no room for more mundane reasons responsible for the mayhem wrought on Sumari……

So a learned elder eventually proposed appeasing Ma Kali with grand Puja and sacrifice of buffalo. Accordingly a grand Puja was organized after seven days of reciting holy mantras the robust buffalo was sacrificed. As luck would have it, rains were already over, a milder season in offing; things began to settle down in Sumari.  The relative calm was attributed to successful appeasement of Gods. The temple supposed to give solace to strung souls, provide spiritual calm instead became a place to be feared. Villagers took extra care to light the ‘diya’ with clockwork regularity, the purest material used for puja etc. The settled calm in Sumari lasted but only six months next summer was as bad as the last.  Another Puja and a sacrifice of buffalo made no impact. Villagers suffered through the summer and the rain and again calm restored in the month of Kartik. Next year was no exception in fact village suffered a more intense violence of nature. A young man, who lost his entire family when his house submerged in mudslide, unable to control his frustration went to the temple in a state of frenzy and beat the idol with his chappal. He was quickly over powered ……..

Will be concluded... 

Chronicle of Badolgaon Caullas

Not Deserting Rats, Pioneers: This is how it all began….

Sumari – 1876 (A Fictionalized Account)

Durga Dutt Caulla was a worried man. Although his eldest son survived the draw of lots when providence struck in most bizarre way; Nityanand suffered debilitating fall from daand at Kali Temple, lost one leg so became ineligible for the lots. His close friend Shanti Bhushan Bahuguna was not so lucky. In a few days, young dashing and amiable Narayan Bahuguna will be history. Narayan who had always been the good samaritan, go getter and in the forefront of social life of village will be obliterated. From tomorrow bizarre rituals will begin gradually gathering tempo both in riotous color and cacophonous din, reaching climax on kartik full moon when Narayan will have his head sheared at the altar of the village deity. Durga Dutt has been asking the same question over and over again in his mind yet couldn’t verbalize it. Why this waste? Are we really worshipping God? Why do Gods want to be appeased?. Why do they get angry at failing of mortals? If Gods are to be appeased in the same way a Satan wants to be appeased then where is the difference? If Gods are to be appeased, worshipped and generally kept in good humor then don’t they contradict the very meaning of God! It occurred to him there appears a role reversal, humans seem to be acting as Gods and Gods susceptible to Maya, Moh and false ego.

People generally had an idea when this tradition took root and how the process was fine tuned. Sumari was a prosperous village amid all round deprivation. The apparent rationale for this perennial prosperity was attributed to the grace of village deity residing in an ancient temple at the edge of village, atop high summit. Ma Kali had her unshakable resting place at the ancient temple at the summit of high mountain. A fiery image evoking fear more than awe; village folks groveled at her feet in utter submission. This was their natural reflex reaction buttressed by clearly visible signs of good life in the village amid desperation outside it. Quite obviously people are edgy about good fortune as the fear lurks always at the back of their mind. People trust status quo and are willing to submit to bizarre demands of conventions to maintain it. The constant weighing of cost-benefit clearly tips in favor of tradition; the price is too small for assumed assured prosperity.  

Then a period of misfortune befell Sumari. …


To be concluded 

Kul Devta & Gram Devta

Each household in Badolgaon has a 'Kul Devta' even if He is Narshing Dev, He is a different Narshing Dev for each household with a different symbol for worship. Manyawar Diwakar was telling this story... Once Gunanand Kala ( Luckhnow wale) conveyed his desire to perform elaborate puja of Kul Devta so inquired if it is OK with him to perform Puja from his house in Kotdwar. Manyawar Diwakar sent a missive conveying his willingness to offer his hospitality to perform puja from his place but told them that the Staff he has in his house belongs to our 'Kul Devta' i.e Kedar Dutt Kala Household, Their Kul Devta is different. The Puja did not take place....


Gram Devta is common to all villagers. Our Gram Devta is Siddh Baba, as featured in the story of  'saids'........... There is a tree behind cluster of houses which is worshiped in glory of Siddh Baba.   




( Please comment if the description has flaw)

The Shivling And Strange Dream

Back in old days we had a 'shivling' at our house in daaNd. This precious Shivling was worshiped by Pt. Kedar Dutt Kala, arguably one of the three top experts of his time in entire Garhwal in ritualistic Puja. The aura and emotional appeal associated with this 'Shivling' for those who had lived in the house is beyond description. This Shivling is now installed in a temple in Mandai. You have to see to believe the powerful appeal of this shivling, how Manyawar Hari Prasad Kala was moved when he visited the temple two years back. 


With passage of time one by one, everyone moved away from the house save for taiji, Manyawar Diwakar and his family. Eventually they also moved away due to demand of time so the house fell in disuse. As time elapsed and folks got busy in their humdrum lives taiji had a strange dream. She saw Shivling in dream complaining bitterly 'You have left me untended. Water from rains washed me down to gadan and now I am lying neglected there. She saw precise location of Shivling in the dream. When she narrated the dream to Manawar Diwakar, they rushed to village and bingo" they found 'Shivling' buried in earth at the very spot where taiji saw It in dream. Quickly it was installed in Mandai temple...It is still there, worshiped by village folks of Mandai... 

It Burned For Three Days.....

The house at daand was abandoned in nineties for everyone had priorities elsewhere. The sole benefactor who was responsible for its upkeep until now and who had meticulously performed periodic rituals of relics lying there, the shaft of 'Kul Devata', Manyawar Diwakar roamed Garhwal in connection of his job while his family moved to Kotdwar to access better facilities, educational and otherwise for themselves and more importantly for children. No one lived in the house during this period on permanent basis, the house was at the mercy of elements with priceless books and manuscripts tucked away in its remote recesses... Despite his busy schedule and great demand on his time, Manyawar Diwakar would still make occasional calls at this historic dwelling to see if things were OK and make the necessary repairs etc.   


It was during this period, the appalling callousness of our own villagers came to light. The house burned for three days with laud crackling of wood boards, spewing bellowing smoke and flames leaping off like breath of an incensed dragon, seen miles through the valley but the villagers went about their business, which actually was no business just the idle gossip, immune to destruction of priceless wealth. Someone from adjacent village eventually informed Manyawar Diwakar after three days the house was afire and reduced to ashes. He rushed to village but alas in three days everything that could burn had reduced to ashes and the structure crumbled all over........A crestfallen Manyaver sat there amid the smoldering ruins 


When asked, the villagers replied shamelessly they did not see it burning...


You may call this callousness, I would say it was sadistic glee. Possibly they drove vicarious pleasure after setting it afire, drawing smoke from their smoldering hookah,  keeping their back all the time to the house and feeling no sin at all. 


Now I  know why I feel edgy standing at those ruins..

A View From Malya

You wouldn't believe how shaky the original video was. When I uploaded the video, google sensed the flaw and offered to rectify it. I accepted and the result is astounding. You see the video as if camera is on a tripod and moving in rock steady motion......

Locating Badolgaon

We all have this irresistible desire to know our roots, where we came from, how our ancestors looked like and how they ran their lives. We would like to screen the better aspects of their lives and purge the negatives to bask in reflected glory. As the flag line suggests we have indeed some past to be proud of chiefly because of an individual Pt Kedar Dutt kala, an acknowledged specialist in religious rituals ( Some say one of the only three very best of his time). So we begin our journey by locating tiny hamlet on on world map. It is not easy to locate a village on satellite image which has number of house you can count on your finger tips. Besides images of sparsely populated areas are on low resolution as compared to area of towns. So How did I locate Badolgaon on satellite image (Google Earth)? I began by mapping my journey from Kotdwara to Badolgaon on my GPS phone. Here are the screen shots..   




This is picture of full route from Kotdwara to Badolgaon. We began tracing route from 'Manyawar' Diwakar Kala's residence positioned at the lower end of map where legend Kotdwara can be seen. At midway you can see Duggada mentioned as well........  


(Tid Bit: श्री दिवाकर काला का फ़ोन ख़राब चल रहा था. जनाब ने बीएसएनएल को फ़ोन किया...
'मान्यवर' मेरा फ़ोन कई दिनों से खराब है, कृपया  उसे सुधार ने का कष्ट करें! )  Therefore the sobriquet 'Manyawar'.

From Duggada, which means confluence of two rivers, used to be an important distribution center in earlier times we go north to Hanumanti, Matiyali and on to a high Kandakhal having pleasant cool climate. MAtiyali has an old Inter College where some of the Chacha/Tau had education)

















   






Kandakhal is not quite shown in this map but it is a short way from left end of route shown in the image........Sharp hairpin affords breathtaking view of valley.






















You see a small hair pin in the middle of map, that is Kandakhal, a steep descent from there takes us to Paukhal which is at the end of appendix like protrusion ( a smudged extension visible on the map). Paukhal is end of metaled road for us although the road keeps going on to Hrishikesh, you take a jeep from here to Badolgaon, the road is actually a river bed called 'gadan' in local language.........  


















This entire route is covered by jeep. At the end of which is Village clusters. Malya, Mandai, Bijnor and of course Badolgaon.....






















You can see the dry river bed traced by jeep on satellite image...


























A Clearer and enlarged picture of valley. The lone spot is village temple.




















A more definitive image clearly showing the temple. The dwelling where route in smudged is Pannchayat Ghar, where most of the action took place.

Village Panoramic

Village Details

Quiz for Gen Next

No ethnic Garhwali or 50+ old will answer this quiz....It is meant for Gen X!


1. What is a "gadan" 
2. What is a "DaaND"
3. What is a "khaal"
4. What is a "kuul"
5. What is a "Daangar"
6. What is  "chui lagana"
7. What is Garhwali word "goat lagana" 


Write your answer in comments ..

‘Ka Phal Paako’…..

I spent two nights in Badolgaon and both nights sleeping on the terrace of Panchayat Ghar, a very ordinary small single storey two room dwelling. The moon was bright, come up early in the evening and by the time we went to sleep at was at the zenith casting a pall of dull silvery tinge on everything. The sky was bare not a trace of cloud, azure during the day and grey at night with bright moon obscuring stars. The warm day temperature had relented in the evening, light breeze making it exceedingly pleasant. The only thing that marred the evening was presence of pesky mosquitoes but we had a tube of Odomos to tackle that menace……..

Early in the evening I had egged the villagers to narrate ghost stories which they obliged gleefully and related the story of ‘saids hijacking a little boy’. These folks have a way telling story with much conviction so that the fear grows in your psyche; staying in background during the day and taking a malevolent life as soon as the world goes to sleep. So I was primed for the night with heightened sense of fear. As a precaution I asked for a flashlight kept near me should I require to go to toilet during the night.   There is an old mango tree with a thick canopy next to panchayat ghar. We slept on the floor our heads pointing towards this mango tree. After brief small talk the men began to snore, I couldn’t. Soon an eerie wail of bird, subdued but very distinct and regular at brief intervals began to dissolve in pristine night ‘fizaa’. There was something very sad about tone of bird’s call it reminded me of Kalidas’ Meghdootam, the hapless ‘aashiq’ pouring his agony on to the cloud messenger. Eventually I dozed off only to awake late in the night. The moon had either set or was completely hidden behind Chandakhal summit. The sky was dark, alive with dazzling array of stars. There were so many of them as if a large round tray laden with priceless glittering jewels. The bird’s wail, a little less frequent but still haunting the ‘fizaa’  ….

I summoned enough courage and looked around carefully hoping to see ‘baraat of saids’ floating past gadan quietly but nothing, absolutely nothing in the landscape to suggest paranormal activity. Then I collected the flash light and tried to flip it on but there no such button, I fumbled all over but the damned thing had no on/off switch. So I unscrewed its cap and bingo it flashed… Went down to the toilet, looking back over shoulder, relieved went back to sleep..The pathos of birds wail set a swathe of melancholy in surrounding fizaa……

I was told next day that bird is called ‘Ka phal paako’ because its wail sounds like singing ‘ka phal pakoo’  

More Pictures

Watch more pictures by clicking on link to 'Picture Gallery' on sidebar.........

A Vintage Photo

Identify these individuals?

The fellow in middle is Sir Prabhakar.

Sitting, second from left is a well known felon. 

Sir Prabhakar's act.

Sir Prabhakar is qualified 'sixty+ years old' therefore has a way of losing/misplacing things. But this story has nothing to do with his frequent misplacing of things but mention was necessary as the evidence of his act is locked in his camera and he has lost/misplaced the packet of accessories including USB cables therefore those pictures cannot be put up here for every one to see.


Sir Prabhakar is a religious person; that would be an understatement, he is actually very religious person who would not travel on 'Tuesday' to Badolgaon under any circumstances. Sir Prabhakar's 'समधी' is also a religious person, as religious persons go they have all sorts of 'Murtis'  in their home. His समधी happened to have a large idol of Lord Shiva, Parvati and child Ganesh in his home. Someone cast doubt in his mind that such a large idol is not allowed in home unless daily morning and evening puja offered to the deity. Doubt is bad business, it really creates that lurking fear of something wrong therefore makes a fellow restless. Sir Prabhakar comes to his rescue, offers to find proper place for the lord in his village temple where daily morning and evening Puja will be offered. His समधी is relieved and in appreciation calls finest carpenters to pack the lord in as comfortable a box as possible. Unfortunately Lord isn't amused in His claustrophobic box, in display of His ire refuses to occupy boot of Sir Prabhakar's car. So, Lord is taken out of the claustrophobic box and placed in the boot of car nicely padded for comfort, there is apparent all round sigh of relief at lord relenting and occupying His temporary station.

All this happened on a dreary hot summer Sunday, Sir Prabhakar is uncomfortable with lord occupying boot of his car so decides to hurry to his village and handover lord to temple for his permanent resting place. Unfortunately he had business to attend to on Monday, like having his Cholesterol and other dangerous chemicals in blood counted by a reputed pathologist therefore visit is postpones to Wednesday ( as already told Sir Prabhakar refuses to carry lord anywhere on a Tuesday)            


Eventually Lord Shiva, His consort Parvati and Child Ganesh, with all the necessary puja and 'प्राण प्रतिष्ठा'  are placed behind the perennial 'Shivling' in village temple. Some pictures captured in author's camera ( as laready explained real images and videos are captured in Sir Prabhakar's JVC VIdeocam but Sir Prabhakar, being 'सठिया गये' has lost the accessories including USB cable etc so that those pictures are locked there for a while.


Some Tid bits..


Sir Prabhakar has a remedy for finding misplaced thing's( which he does quite frequently) He ties and additional knot in his 'नाडा' of his pajama and bingo, the lost things are found. Perhaps it is time for him to tie a knot in his 'नाडा'.........

  You would think this is unusual temple with two triangular turrets pointing to heaven, actually there are two temples but due to unusual angle of photograph the one behind which is smaller has completely covered by the one in front. Lord Shiva brought by Sir Prabhakar' is placed in the smaller temple. Even though the temple is small but it s exclusive to Lord Shiva while the one in sight is shared by three deities ...  

Lord waiting to be placed inside the temple. A bag full of 'अनाज '' with open mouth rests there through the day and night as part of the ritual......

Not a glossy picture but this is all author have for now. Standalone temple of Lord Shiva.

'Saids' and their baraat..........

This is a curious story and the protagonist still around to narrate it. .....


Back in old days there weren't too many roads. Much of the business and visiting was done on foot and things ported on the back of ponies. Our village lay on the busy Kotdwar - Dogadda trail. The streaming of traders and other folks through this trail was a constant feature . In fact we had a shop at Chandkhal catering to these fellows needs. ..


Now the story is that this trail also had occasional travelers not quite humans. Sometime in the deep of a dark moon night villagers could see strange procession of grim looking people dressed in white floating over the Gadan and passing through the village with 'band bazaa' in full flow yet making no noise. These fellows were called 'Saids' and corrupted derivative of Saiyyads, a privileged  caste Muslims supposed to be direct descendants of Prophet Mohammed. Some people say they were a band of fierce Muslim army out to conquer holy Hindu land of Garhwal but were foxed by wily Garhwalis who smothered them with stones raining from hills. The entire band perished and then reappeared as apparitions as told above.


This fellow who is still alive and tells the story with conviction says, one night he when he was 11 years old  asked his mother to take him out so he can piss. His mother took him out and waited barely a couple meters away in a dark night. After sometime she called him out but there was no response, so yelled again but when there was still no response she made noise and woke up the village. The villagers went out in search of the missing child through the night but couldn't find him. Next day he was found some hundred odd meters away from the village under a peepul tree shivering from cold. When asked what happened, he said,


'I don't know some fellows in white took me away. I don't know if I was walking or just floating in air but we kept moving on and and on down the trail. Another pious fellow who was not part of the abductor's party kept constant pace with them testing their patience. Eventually the abductors relented and let go of him. This wise person took him to a well got him bathed and left him under the peepul tree.......


Folks say the pious fellows was 'Siddh Baba' village deity. 

House at daand.....

Only some boulders giving impressions of once a bustling house remain there. Atop a moderately high cliff, affording magnificent view of the village below on one side and 'Gairi ka Gadan' at the other, this house has some remarkable history. 


Once fruit trees and vegetable beds flourished around its periphery. A perennial 'kuul' releasing cascading ice cold water at the end of house allowed lush surrounding round the year while countless guests found food and shelter under its benign roof. Two ferocious looking 'bhutiya' dogs with spiked belt around their neck guarded its material wealth while the grand old patriarch Pt. Kedar Dutt Kala presided over ceaseless aggrandizing of spiritual wealth. 


Amidst this apparent razzmatazz lay untold story of women toiling and slaving for men round the clock to keep it going..........     


The only sign of life there are two tree still producing mangoes for anyone who has the will and stamina to climb up the hill....

Jagran....

Jagran was held on 2/6/2012, a party from Kotdwar with all the frills of an orchestra came down to village and regaled devotees through the night. Some pictures....

And some real ethnic ...

Why Real Residents Won't Cooperate.....

There is something bizarre about proceedings in Badolgaon. While folks from nearby villages viz. Bijnor, Malya and  Mandai are taking keen interest in the annual Puja at the temple fellows from Badolgaon are absent. The deafening silence is eerie but open a bottle of wine and they descend like bees to honey. 


I must mention the untiring efforts of 'Guddu' Kala from Malya village without whose contribution Puja would have been a disaster. Similarly there is guy (His name will be mentioned as soon as I recall it) who took charge of kitchen and dished out food for the visitors with the dedication and sincerity of a 'bhakt'


Some  tid bits.....


A fellow was going around the village with broken hand, when asked what happened he said sheepishly, he fell down and broke his arm.  Other guy batted his eye and whispered, 'His brother broke his arm, most likely for getting drunk......

Why We Beat Sumari Blokes.....

I am amazed when some blokes from Sumari have the gall to call us 'bhagoras' meaning deserters. You would think that these fellows were doing something noble which we were unwilling to participate in. And what they were doing that was noble? A human sacrifice! Imagine, but for us these tribals would still be carrying out human sacrifice. Instead of acknowledging us as the real agent provocateurs of change these fools still can't reconcile to honest fact...

May be someday they will see reason and acknowledge us as the real pioneers.
Until then let them dwell in the well 'Koop mandook' 

Transcendental Calm of Badolgaon

You have to be there to experience that amazing sense of  calm percolating your body. Something in the air there whisks your soul from your body, soars high in space and detaches from mundane world.......

    

Temple: A New Initiative

Some Pictures:

Panoramic View

Some Close ups

History :


Tucked away under the serene slopes of Chandakhal, sleepy Badolgaon has chequered history. At the head sits exalted name of Pandit Kedar Dutt Kala, considered one of the most accomplished Tantrik of his time.