A Pilgrim’s Odyssey

Indian temples and places of pilgrims gain importance and reverence in order of their location; more tough is the path- more valued is their worship and more possibility of reaping rewards from such pilgrimage. Temples and places of pilgrimage in the tough terrain of the North have equally god number of worshippers.

My friend Ashok, when he became a senior citizen, opted for the life of a pilgrim. It seemed that the Gods were also with him. He always found the way to pilgrimage paved for him. While going to Puri, his next berth traveller in the train was from Ram Krishna Mission. The later arranged for his stay at Puri for free. When he went to Trivandrum, his taxi driver was from his village. He took him to his home and to all places of worship without asking for any payment. At Hardwar, he stayed at a lodge operated by a person who was his class mate in school.

In his journey to Amarnath Caves which was at an attitude of around 4000 meter and 150 KM from Srinagar, he had no such assistance and had to be of his own. It was a nightmare when terrorists attacked and all the pilgrims fled away helter and skeltor. Terrorists fired point blank on the crowd. Casualties were high.

After dark, Ashok moved out from his hideout. He saw an array of tents pitched on a far off terrain. As the night progressed, temperature stared falling rapidly. He had one blanket with him. He was very tired and shivering with cold when he reached first tent. He slipped into the tent. There were several people already sleeping inside the tent. He did not bother for food though he was very hungry and slept a good sleep.

Dawn arrived, painting the snow with a pale rose. Voices jolted him awake. Soldiers, their faces grim, huddled above, their conversation slicing through the thin canvas. "How the hell are there thirteen bodies when we brought in only twelve?" one exclaimed.

Ashok's heart lurched. He looked around, counting the sleeping figures. Twelve, he confirmed, a tremor running through him. A gasp escaped his lips, drawing the soldiers' attention. Their eyes widened as they saw him, the thirteenth man, and the one who defied the count. A ripple of awe ran through them.

He continued his journey, forever marked by the chilling night in the Amarnath tents, carrying the memory of his near-death experience and the whispers of the soldiers' awe as his most precious souvenir.