As my brother came out of the Ganges river and onto the bank and took a few steps up the stone steps on the bank of the Ganges at Kedara Ghat after having ‘lost himself’, he recalls a similar strange occurrence the last time he stepped into the Ganges 20 years back. Let us continue A.Kathirasen’s recollection of this mystical episode that was published in the New Straits Times back in 2012.
As I ascended the steps of the Kedara Ghat to where my wife was waiting, my mind flew back to a time, 20 years ago, when I had a similar – but so much more intense – experience.
It also occurred in the River Ganga, but at Rishikesh, in the foothills of the Himalayas.
After sitting in silence in the cave known as Vasishtha’s cave, a little above the centre of Rishikesh, I walked to the magnificent looking Ganga. Wading into the water, I placed my spectacles on a high rock and sat cross-legged on a flatter rock next to it, the water just about touching my legs. In the serene, soothing atmosphere, I forgot myself. I disappeared.
A persistent, serious slap on my face forced my eyes open, water had reached up to my mouth. Strangely, I did not panic, although I could hardly swim. Wrapped in a cocoon of inexplicable peace, I instinctively knew I would be safe. I probably half-spalshed my way to some rocks by the shore. As I stood there, I sensed – no, felt – a deep difference.
The music of the water gleefully playing among the rocks as it laughed its way downstream was vibrating sharply in my ears, the bird-calls were ringing everywhere around me, and nearer, too. The forest was singing, the symphony floating around me, through me.
The trees were greener, brighter, and smiling. The water was clearer, fresher, and laughing, I could smell the earth. The sounds, colours, shapes and scents were refreshingly lucid, entering me directly, through my pores, unfiltered by thoughts. The inner commentary had stopped.
Kathirasen was no longer the observer. Kathirasen was the throbbing scenery.
I do not know how long I was in this flow. But, somewhere along linear time, my hands touched my face and found that my spectacles were not there. And thoughts returned, tumbling over each other.
“What is happening? How is it that I can see so clearly without my glasses? Where are my glasses anyway? The questions kept falling. After a search, I found my glasses on a rock, about 30 to 40 metres away. That set in motion another set of thoughts: How did I end up so far downstream? It must have been the current. How come I didn’t drown? Or did a mischievous someone place my glasses on that rock? Is this place filled with spirits? I hope not. What happened to me just now ? Perhaps it was an illusion. Could it be due to a surfeit of Thor and Swamp Thing comics? Nah! Was it one of those spiritual experiences I have read about. It’s probably my Hindu background colouring my perspective. But something did happen. Can what they say about the Ganga being holy be true?”
More importantly, I was unable to explain what happened to me between the time I sat on the rock and the time I was slapped into real-time awareness.
My brother comes back to 2012.
The peace, the clarity followed me as I stepped out of the ganges at Rishikesh. And I was experiencing that very same peace here in ancient Varanasi. Except, this time, the clarity was less sharp and the feeling of having disappeared, less lasting.
The Skanda Purana, an ancient Hindu text, elucidates the glories of the Ganga. In it, Skanda, also known as Lord Muruga, explains that the Ganga is the supreme Shakti (power) of Shiva taken shape, and that the water has been sent for the salvation of the world. Was it this power that caused my disappearence when I took a dip in her? I don’t know, but I like to to think that, having been cuddled by Mother Ganga, I have emerged a better person.
