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Travelogues
Going on
Kailash Manasarovar Yatra
I had, in response to a newspaper ad from the Ministry of External
Affairs (MEA), put in an application for Kailash Manasarovar Yatra 2003
and after a series of exhaustive and exhausting medical tests at New
Delhi and Gunji, been lucky enough to be finally selected. A bus-ride
from New Delhi to Mangti via Almora and a trek through the scenic
district of Pithoragarh later, I had crossed to Tibet over the Lipulekh
Pass in company of thirty-seven yatris, including a Liaison Officer
deputed by the MEA.
 The two-day halt at Taklakote, the erstwhile trading town of Purang, was
for immigration, orientation, foreign currency exchange, shopping for
provisions, etc. At Taklakote we were divided into two groups, “Shiv”
group to visit Kailash first and the other, “Shakti”, Manasarovar. There
were twelve ladies among the 37 yatris & were divided six per group. I
was in the Shakti group scheduled to visit Manasarovar first. The
following is an account of our experiences during the parikrama.
Manasarovar Parikrama
 The bus from Taklakote to Qihu (pronounced Cheehoo) passes through
deserted countryside devoid of trees and shrubs. The stony ground is
covered with low cushions of vivid wild flowers near streams. In that
high altitude plants lose their height. Streams are very common in July
with the snow melting in the higher reaches. The driver hits every
stream with the confidence of a seasoned man without even slowing down.
Bridges do not exist. Debris of ancient monasteries still remains. The
carved stones inscribed with Tibetan script are festooned with Buddhist
prayer flags. Each time the bus passes the stone piles, the Tibetan
“Helper” recruited at Taklakote shouts something like “Shash—shaa”,
whatever that means. The Chinese driver completely ignores him.
 Hore (pronounced Ho-ray) is a hamlet on the way. We stop to stock up on
vegetables and end up buying three radishes for twenty yuan, that is Rs
120! General heart attacks occur all round from the price of veggies. We
come across a surprisingly delicious canned variety of litchi juice for
four yuans. The eldest yatri, a sprightly 69 year old, also discovers
the popular local past time of playing snooker and is cordially invited
for a round by the Tibetans. The resultant game has both sides passing
comments, which the opposite side does not understand, perhaps luckily.
We pass Rakshas Tal on the way. It is an impossibly blue lake with still
waters. We see no birds there. Legend goes that King Ravana attained the
boon of immortality from Lord Shiva after meditating on the banks of
this lake. The Rakshas Tal or Ravana Tal, is connected to the
Manasarovar by Ganga –chu, a channel which also we do not see. First
view of Kailash unexpectedly hits us round a bend in the road. The snowy
peak stands aloof behind snow-free ranges. Cameras go berserk.
Qihu has a hilltop monastery left untouched by the revolution. At the
foot of the hillock is a hotel, basically a single row of rooms
(financed by NRIs) opening out into a courtyard. The yard also hosts
tents into which the occupants of the rooms are moved out on our
arrival. The people thus unceremoniously ousted, turn out to be the
Indian tourists visiting Tibet through Nepal being hauled around custom
made trips in Toyota Land cruisers with back up trucks. The Kailash is
visible from Qihu and resembles more a lump of vanilla ice cream on an
empty stone horizon. The southern face of the mountain has the
distinctive horizontal & vertical markings like a ladder ascending to
the heavens. There are hot sulphur spring baths available @ twenty yuan
per head at Qihu. There is also the Manasarovar Lake.
The Manasarovar Lake is huge with a circumference of about 88 km and
changes color with the sun. Flocks of birds (gulls and different kinds
of ducks) populate the shores. The water is crystal clear and shoals of
fish are visible among the colorful stones glimmering on the lakebed.
Qihu has a silty beach cushioned with aquatic weeds. There are also
quick-sands in places and a wire fence marks off safe limits in the
waters.
The Shiv group sets off for Kailash parikrama leaving us, the Shakti
group, behind at Qihu. The cooking stoves supplied throughout the trip
resemble welding machines with a foot-long lateral flame jetting out.
Only the Tibetan helper, Karma, can put it on, though with practice we
learn to switch it off. One digs a hole about a foot deep in the ground,
puts the stove on and places the stove side ways in the hole so that the
lateral flame now points vertically up for cooking! The pressure cooker
is then put on a tripod. One lives to learn.
The kitchen is a tent at Qihu and an out-house in some other places and
we are the cooks. Karma is the helper @75 yuans per day to bring water
and for washing up utensils. With nil English/Hindi vocabulary Karma
blossoms into an asset later as a guide and general factotum when the
actual guide Guru is being uncooperative. It is more a picnic than a
pilgrimage at times with all of us taking turns with the cooking. A
particularly unflappable Maratha is put in charge of the kitchen and
who, while listening patiently to everyone, does precisely what he
wants. A detailed menu chart is drawn up for each day meal-wise. An
agency in New Delhi had supplied us with dry provisions. This is
supplemented with our purchases and whatever had been carried over by
individual yatris from India. Apart from atta we have chura, dal, papad,
ready-to-cook items (foil packed mattar paneer, upma, sambar rice, tins
of chatpatta chana, dal makhani, etc), soup mixes, instant coffee,
pickles. The sack of rice has vanished somehow and there is no tin
opener. There is also no belun /chakla/ tawa for using the atta.
Since it is a sunny day all of us decide on a holy dip in the lake.
Honestly speaking the temperature of the water is quite tolerable in the
sun, except for the blasting wind. The wind chill factor bites into our
wet skin as we stand in knee-deep water trying to remember our
ancestors, family and friends, offer water and take quick dips. We scare
away the fish and stir up silt. Contrary to popular expectations, there
are no lotuses in Manasarovar and I at least do not see a proper swan.
There are golden brahminy ducks honking away, which the faithful
interpret as chanting of “OM”.
Next day another bus comes to take us to Qugu (Q-goo). Qugu also has a
monastery under “Trus Gho Monastery Democratic Management Committee” and
we stay in the attached barracks. The beach at Qugu is stony without a
trace of silt and we really enjoy ourselves bathing inspite of the wind.
The two days’ halt at Qugu is spent relaxing. The lama from the
monastery lends his roti equipment and we utilize the atta. Several
kilos are added to the luggage with jerry cans of holy water and stones
from the lake. Incidentally we drink the lake water for four days of the
Manasarovar parikrama without boiling and without falling sick. A “Hom”/yagna
is performed by the group at Qugu as per our limited knowledge and the
dry fruit is fruitfully used up as prasad. The sun decides to grace with
its presence and there is surprisingly no high wind. Kailash is visible
from across the lake at Qugu and we see the flanks covered with clouds.
The lama predicts snow & rain for Shiv group undertaking its parikrama
there. Meanwhile we enjoy spectacular sun-sets on the lake.
The lama turns out to be quite a business man with a quaint shop selling
cans of juices (fruit, both fresh & fermented), different chinese
ready-to-eat food which no yatri dares experiment with, trinkets, shoes,
caps, torches, etc. There are, also, interestingly enough, money checker
torchlights for sale @ five yuans each, with which one checks
counterfeit currency! The shop does brisk business. We return to Qihu to
complete the Manasarovar parikrama.
– Continued
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