Maha Shivaratri, Night of Shiva, at Girnar

  Junagadh, Gujarat, India
Friday, February 16, 2007

Dancing Shiva and Parvati

Maha Shivaratri, the Grand Night of Shiva, the night after Shiva created the world, marking his dance, his marriage with Parvati, brings devotees from the countryside to major pilgrimage sites. One of those major sites is Girnar, a holy mountain holding full of spiritual power.

Just before midnight, the hour of Shiva and Parvati's marriage, an old man, who knew English talked with me for a long time. "You go up there. See for yourself. On the mountain there are footprints of God. You decide what it means. Girnar is most powerful spiritual place. Go there and feel."

Lloyd

The festival lasted for several days before the auspicious midnight hour, drawing an estimated ten million people to the base of the ancient volcanic intrusion called Girnar. Who was counting these people, Shiva only knows.

On Maha Shivaratri, the last day before the new moon, the streets were cramped. People walked shoulder to shoulder, back to front: "Om Namah Shivaya." Sadhus, smeared in ash, many naked walked the streets or sat naked smoking charas and tobacco through their chillums. Tents representing ashrams were established throughout the town with music playing from many of them.

For my time at Girnar, I gave myself fully to the event, believing that sometimes you have to dive in deeply through trust, so long as it doesn't compromise who you are. So dive in I did.

Group of Men

I met a group of men, with Ashok at the helm. They showed me around as we walked through the narrow streets and past open squares with a ferris wheel and other rides. We ate lunch at the Lal Gebi Ashram tent. There, I was greeted by many friendly hosts, all dressed comfortably in white linen. They bekoned me towards the food line. Smiling men served me food, each calling "Sita Ram!" I thanked them by returning the call.

Junagadh Shivaratri Festival

We continued to Shri Shrut Skandh Ahinsha Rath ashram, a Jain waiting for a while outside. Soon, after some of the men removed their leather belts and anything else leather, we entered a small room where the holy guru Nirmal Sagar Maharaj sat. We bowed before him one at a time. Ashok asked him some questions in Gujarati. He answered slowly, with deep yet easy thought and a calm voice, sitting cross-legged, naked, as some Jain gurus live.

Through Ashok, he asked where I was from, also asking "kemcha" (how are you?) as prompted by the men. I correctly replied "majama" (good) in Gujarati. We all laughed as the men had taught me this earlier and it was the only Gujarati I knew. He invited me to his ashram anytime.

Topru Gir, Coconut Milk Sadhu

Leaving the ashram and the men, who were staying there, at sunset, the energy of Maha Shivaratri began to increase. I stopped at another ashram tent, that of Topru Gir, known as Coconut Milk Baba. For three years, he lived only drinking coconut milk. His wife, his three sons, his daughter, and dozens of pilgrims and sadhus surrounded him, along with a contingent of musicians. As I entered the tent, he waved to me and asked me to come to him.

For several hours I sat with him, listening to music, talking in basic English and Gujarati, as the sadhus drank bhang and smoked their chillums. Non-judgementally, I said "no thanks."

Shivaratri Crowd

As the midnight hour approached, the hour of marriage, I made my way to the parade route, somehow finding a place right in the middle of everything. Soon the nagas, naked, covered in ash, wielding spears and swords came forward.

Shivaratri Parade, part V

The naga sadhus strike fear in the hearts of ordinary men and women, as they are seen as having mysical powers: "they can do anything they want to do," said one man. The many police guards, some with machine guns, looked equally anxious. My being in the front row, the thought that one could decapitate me fairly easily crossed my mind, but in general, as the sadhus passed with drummers and saints, the parade exhibited extreme energy of devotion.

The midnight hour had struck. Shiva and Parvati's marriage hour was upon us.

Girnath Mountain

The next day, I began my climb to Girnar, a mountain that remains an enigma. I began the pilgrimage drinking coconut juice and getting tikkas from a Brahmin at the base of the mountian. He gave me pieces of coconut and crystallized sugar for the trip.

Sadhu Pilgrims

Hundreds of people were making the pilgrimage. Soon a sadhu man with two sadhu boys invited me to join them, which I did. Maharaj ji, the two boys and I kept a slow and steady pace, taking many breaks in the hot sun at many of the stalls on the way. The path of 5,000 steps followed a steep granite face, past Jain temples, dedicated to the Jain lord Neminath, who achieved enlightenment here.

To Shaivites, the mountain is the abode of Dattatreya, a three-headed god representing the one-ness of Shiva, Vishnu, and Brahma as a trinity yet also representing the three times: past, present, and future.

Dattatreya supposedly had twenty-four gurus including earth, air, sky or ether, water, fire, sun, moon, python, pigeons, sea, moth, bee, bull elephant, bear, deer, fish, osprey, a child, a maiden, a courtesan, a blacksmith, serpent, spider, and wasp--a diverse god to say the least.

Dattatreya

The three peaks of Girnar represent these three heads, the three forms of Dattatreya--three peaks, yet one mountain.

Grinar Peak

The mountain was also the meditational home of Gorakhnath, Master of the Senses, an ancient lord who is associated not only with Shaivism, but also with Tantric Buddhism. His are the footprints, along with Neminath, that can be found on Girnar. On Girnar, religions and sects, along with the gods, fused into one.

"Aye Girnari," called people coming down the mountain as we ascended. "Aye Girnari," we replied, recognizing that we were all inhabitants of this sacred mountain, as pilgrims, at this given moment.

On the way, we visited small temples and shrines, meeting Sadhus and Vaishnavites along the way: "Aye Girnari!" "Ram Sita."

"My gods," Maharaj ji said at each temple, looking at the idols. In the process of ascending the mountian, he inducted me into the sadhu household, naming me Govinda; I was his disciple, so to speak. He was my teacher, my guru, if only for the day, as we made our way around Girnar. I touched my head to his feet, in respect for that.

Lest you misjudge, I would touch my head to any of your feet, who come with a good heart, to teach something of value, should you desire--it's not difficult. For me, as depicted by the blue welcome image to this travelog, this journey of You Are Here is about learning from others, any beings, anybody, internally, externally wherever they may be, here and now.

Pilgrimage Partner

At the top of the tallest, middle peak, rising over 3,000 feet from the Gujarati plain below, land of Gir, was the shrine of Dattatreya, our final stop before descending under the stars.

Sadhu in Cave Temple

We ate dinner at the bottom, with the other sadhus. I felt very welcome, except that, with all my entrenched Western concepts swirling in my mind plus my beliefs that the pipe was not my particular pathway to the divine, an uneasiness filled my mind. As we fell asleep under the stars, at the foot of the mountain, I wondered what it would be like if I really gave everything away, renounced desires for the world, became a sadhu. Here was my opportunity.

Before dawn, I left--the lions of Gir were beckoning me--as the rest continued to sleep on the ground. The world of sadhus at this point in time was not my world, although I learned where I stood...and more.