What the river tells us

The ashes of women and men of all castes and from across many regions of India have been scattered in the Ganges in Haridwar, telling us that this city has as great a significance in death as it does in life. One of the oldest cities, Haridwar, is mentioned in ancient Hindu scriptures as it weaves through time, stretching from the period of the Buddha to the British Empire. The city still has old homes (havelis) and mansions that are laden with antiquary as well as murals that tell visual stories of the river and this important town. One such mansion is the Pilibhit House, a Taj Group hotel where I find myself enjoying both the holy river and the city. Whether you come chasing an aristocratic indulgence by the banks of the holy river or you come wanting to discover yourself as you journey a spiritual path to nirvana, Pilibhit House is just what you want and where you want to be. Meticulously restored and ideally situated, it has both the right energy and the most wonderful location to transport a visitor to those places where heightened thinking and being are easier to achieve.

Here one can easily take part in those rituals that evoke the four spiritual stages of life. This is where you want to switch off your hectic schedule and welcome a slower way of living. This isn’t just a hotel. It is a realm of tranquility, sitting calmly by the Ganges overlooking the glorious Shivalik Himalayas. This heritage hotel houses the largest private bathing ghat of the region for the customary dip. What it also brings, along with grandeur and architectural magnificence, are some quiet moments with the river. A cathartic, reflective meditation, where the movement of the water, the protean waves, the clean air, the lore and legend, and the nostalgia that fills the Hindu collective conscience give one that ‘aha’ moment where time fades into history, history connects us to a hopeful future, and the future seems rich with inspired possibilities.

Once I arrived in this city, I found myself as a 12-year-old, lost to myself and one with the world at large. It was an arrival that transported me back to times when I was surrounded by my grandparents, parents, my Bua and Phupaji (paternal aunt and uncle), my siblings, and our family friends Manmohan Randhawa and Rajan Randhawa. Countless trips to the river and the city flashed before my mind, making my heartbeat slower and steadier in tempo. As memories flash by, I move forward with greater hope about the future.

I am finding clarity about our planet’s future as I reflect upon my own connection to this city, to the long-ago conversations I heard between my elders, and to the discoveries I made through ashram visits with my Deepa Bua and Hargobind Phupaji. These were meetings with religious leaders and spiritual gurus, who in their clarity of thinking and their vision of the world that was laden with largesse of thought and deed, ingrained hope and confidence for tomorrow in me as a young boy coming of age in a poor nation. In this very polarised world, where woke craziness battles fascist fundamentalism and makes it impossible for people to live without feeling choked, Haridwar has me seeing a future with possibilities.

Haridwar houses the Gurukul Kangri University, founded in 1902 according to the tenets of Swami Dayanand Saraswati, the founder of the Arya Samaj. Science and mathematics meet Ayurveda and Vedic scriptures with in-depth study of Sanskrit at this centre of education. The institute offers an indigenous alternative to the education policy that follows a Western curation. Vedic scriptures, Indian literature and philosophy, Indian arts and culture, modern science and research coexist and are treated equally. Female empowerment has always been of importance in this institute. In this school of education, I see for a world divided by isms and torn apart by ideology and geographical borders a prescription to live collegially.

As the waves ripple on the surface of the swiftly moving Ganga, I find myself seeing hope in the Indian Supreme Court judgment for a favourable verdict on marriage equality. As complicated as the law is and as convoluted as its passing will be, I see in it one that gives gay men and women equality under the eye of the law, a judgment that connects modern India to ancient India.

Before we had Western colonisers invade our shores and bring with them their Abrahamic customs and jurisprudence jargon, India shone bright as a civilisation that espoused equality and acceptance, where welcome was given to all, and where expression of individuality wasn’t a sign of weakness but rather a prized piece of the mosaic that shared the story of unity in diversity.

India assuming the G20 Presidency this year, and my visit to Haridwar while it is doing so, gives me a hope that Prime Minister Modi’s call for the world to adopt the diktat of ‘Vasudhaiva Kutumbukum’ (One Earth, One Family, One Future) will be Mother India’s call to Bharat and the world at large to follow old ways and time-tested formulas for civil societies and honest growth. In culling from the ancient texts of the Hindus, it is my hope that India is beseeching the world to follow the largest democracy and heed the advice of a wise and ancient civilisation to chase the immortality of goodness and mindfulness, inclusion and empathy, and nurturing and kindness over ruthless capitalism and fascist, racial, vote-bank politicking. I wonder if my trip to Haridwar the planet’s way of giving me a glimpse of what could be, what might be, and what one should wish to see happen in our world today. A man must dream!