The Golden Temple, Jallianwala Bagh & Wagah border

  Amritsar, Punjab, India
Sunday, April 15, 2007

Amritsar - One day amidst prayers, history and jingoism

The gateway to golden peace

Jallianwala Bagh

It was getting on sundown as we entered Punjab and passed through green countryside and small but bustling towns. We passed a mix of the state's rural and small-town landscape before we drove into Verka, a suburb of Amritsar that was home to one of the largest dairy factories in North India, supplying dairy products all over Punjab, Himachal Pradesh and Jammu & Kashmir. At first glance, Amritsar is just another Punjabi town - busy and enterprising, yet charmingly native and, well...itself! Just that one found nothing to suggest that two of the best known landmarks of modern day India lay hidden somewhere nearby. 
15th April, 2007 - Sunday

At 4am, in the morning calm

     

The Palki carrying the holy book

Our hotel was just adjoining the Golden Temple, which was great news. Especially because - and as the hotel staff also urged us to do so - we were keen on catching the early morning (and 4'o clock sure is early!) ritual at the Gurudwara. The famed transportation of the Palki (the palanquin) is indeed special. The Guru Granth Sahib, the holy book of the Sikhs is carried from the Akal Takht, its resting place for the night, to the Harmandir Sahib at 4 in the morning - the process gets reversed at day-end with similar fervour and fanfare. The surreal serenity of the Gurudwara's premises, with the dull gold reflecting in the still waters of the lake, combined with the soothing chants of the Prabhat Pheri (morning prayers) - all this makes for an experience you would never want to miss, and something that will find a place in your heart, irrespective of your communal leanings, or even the lack of any.
 
Later that morning (once we had returned to the hotel from the early morning visit to the Gurudwara and caught up on some much needed sleep), we stepped out again. Frankly, we just hadn't had enough of the temple and the incredible experience that it offered. Whether it is exploring the magnificent architecture, exploiting the countless photo opportunities it throws up or just soaking in the peace and calm...you can't help getting drawn to it more than once. And, why not? Each phase of the day finds the Golden Temple in different shades - each better than the last.

So here we were back at the Gurudwara after a sumptuous (read heavy) breakfast of parathas (what else? I mean, what else can one ask for!). After we had gorged on those luscious parathas with slab-loads of butter swimming on it (I could almost visualize the Golden Temple floating serenely in the holy lake), we entered the Golden Temple complex, with our heads covered, dipped our weary feet in the placid waters of the lake, walked around the complex passing countless peaceful faces and taking in the ambience and the images both in our minds and on camera. 

A dip in the holy waters

Meditative calm...

But nothing could beat the experience of being inside Harmandir Sahib. When deep faith and sheer melody come together, it comes alive in the form of Shabad Kirtan that is sung from the heart by some of the best musicians in the country. The priests sitting around the Guru Granth Sahib, the music wafting and resonating all around the complex (actually all over the country, thanks to the TV and radio channels that telecast it live each day!) and the thousands of worshippers who quietly pause and move on...all that has to make the Golden Temple the ultimate pilgrimage one could hope to go on. Outside, we saw people of all walks of life offering their services in whatever way they could...from doing kar seva at the langars to polishing the golden railings - nothing could give them greater joy. It doesn't matter here what walk of life you are from - everyone does everything in the hallowed atmosphere of these kitchens, from cooking to serving to washing plates. We rounded off the visit with the customary souvenir shopping. From mementos to music, you just have to carry a piece (or should it be peace?!) of the Golden Temple back home with you.


We walked out of the Golden Temple complex straight into the past. In a modest street filled with countless little shops, it is hard to miss the entrance to one of India's best identified and saddest historical landmarks. If not for the signpost over the gate of the Jallianwala Bagh, you could all but walk past it. But one look at that narrow path that leads one to a wide expanse of greenery beyond, and you know this is what you have read about and imagined what hundreds of men, women and children wished was wider and not blocked by General Dyer and his armed battalion that fateful day in April, 1919. 

Jallianwala Bagh

The only, narrow entrance/exit

In the days of the freedom struggle, the Britishers had forbidden holding of any public gatherings - such was the fear sparked off after 1857 and the innumerable Mangal Pandeys that had avatar-ed in a fearless new India. So, when thousands of Indians gathered on the lawns of Jallianwala Bagh on Baisakhi Day, the 13th of April 1919, Gen. Dyer misread the festival celebration for an outright violation of the law. Suspecting possible trouble brewing, he garnered his troops and without as much as giving a half-chance, ordered the opening of fire on the multitude present in the park. While the countless victims struggled to find a way out, history struggled to document the exact number of those who perished. With the single, narrow entrance blocked by the General's men and the tall walls of the Park proving unassailable, those who escaped the firing chose to jump into a well at one corner of the park. What was left of Jallianwala Bagh that afternoon were bodies strewn around the ground and a well brimming with more. 

The carnage, on canvas

As we passed the narrow entrance and strode into the greenery of the park, we didn't have to try hard to visualize what took place on that unfortunate April day. The park today is well maintained, with clear documentation of the critical spots and a small but evocative museum that takes you back to those gory days. But you end up spending the maximum time at a) a small wall which bears several bullet marks, carefully labeled; and b) the well which is bound to send a few shivers down your spine when you crane your neck to see through the grills, hoping not to spot a head or a limb in those dark, unseen depths.

The well of death

There is obviously more to the city and we knew a day was just not enough. So, we were sorry that we had to give the miss to Ram Bagh (which was the summer palace of Maharaja Ranjit Singh, built around a garden resembling Lahore's Shalimar Bagh), checking out the fabulous cuisine of the city (Amritsari Naan and Amritsari Machhi are nothing short of gourmet folklore!), and visiting the many shopping areas (Gandhi Gate and Hall Bazaar are not too far off). After consoling ourselves with the purchase of a quaint looking kripan (we later discovered that it was made in - where else! - China!!!), we reached back at the hotel for lunch and checking out for the last leg of our trip, the Wagah Border. The taxi was to reach at 3.30 to pick us up and take us to as near Pakistan as we could hope to get - without having to approach either Governments!

28 kilometers from Amritsar, exactly half-way from Lahore as well, lies the Wagah Border, the only legal crossing between India and Pakistan. The village of Wagah itself is in Pakistan and you actually only reach the last Indian village, Atari. There is, obviously, strong army presence here, besides the customs department which has to be geared up to perform its duties, for there is a fair amount of traffic (both by road and rail) both ways.

The drive to Atari gives you a perspective on the greenery and fertility of Punjab's famous farmlands. You also pass the magnificent Khalsa College on your right (you'd even mistake this to be a luxury resort hotel!), and further up, a signpost on your left that indicates the way to the last railway station in India. This is where the much-hyped Samjhauta express begins its short, trans-national ride transporting hundreds of Indians and Pakistanis across the border, and back to an era that evokes both pain and nostalgia.

After a milestone that tells you that Lahore is just 23 km away, your cab turns right into a parking lot. The journey from here is on foot - not more than a few hundred metres. We walked up to the complex and stood amidst several countrymen waiting for the gates to open. Not knowing what to expect, we all sprinted in when the barricade was flung open - the milling crowd behind us. We waited for about half an hour outside a tall gate with the words "Swarn Jayanthi Dwar" inscribed on it. Around us were open fields that could have been India or Pakistan, and we noticed these electrified fences running amok (we were told that they were capable of discharging upto 66,000 volts of current!). Much better that the aspiring border-crosser makes a samjhauta and chooses to take the express! Or a bus...

Presently, there was a commotion and we saw that a gate on the right had opened and our fellow tourists had begun to rush in, armed guards supervising the progress all along. We walked into what appeared to be a stadium...actually two, for we were directed to sit towards the right even as we saw some people sitting on the left. And sure enough, we saw a wall with a gate dividing us and them, and sure enough, we saw the words "Welcome to Pakistan" etched on it.

While reaching the ceremony early does give one the advantage of a vantage viewpoint, the April sun seemed to be intolerant of the farce of such a ceremony and punished the gathering no end. And as the show only begins by sundown, the wait was traumatic. We passed time by listening half-heartedly to the patriotic Bollywood numbers being belted out by the Indian Army and the musical counter attack by the other side. The atmosphere seemed to be electric, more with a pseudo and make believe effect of forced patriotism. At least on that day, the Indian side of the crowd seemed more boisterous, if not unruly, than the neighbours, who not only were clearly outnumbered but also were maintaining a lower profile. There is no escaping from the realities of borders, partition and division even in those innocuous surroundings - how else could one explain the fact that men and women are made to sit in separate galleries, and I am not even talking about the Pakistan side, mind you. Anyway, after a mock demonstration of relay running with the Indian flag to the Pakistan side, conducted by an over-enthusiastic cheerleader and a few Indian youths, the professionals took over. (the crowd told not to demean/belittle the other side). 

Bigger crowd than an Indo-Pak cricket match?

Immaculately dressed and armed, the BSF jawans and their counterparts performed drills which were more comic than military. With the lights on, both flags fluttering gently in the breeze, and the swarming crowds cheering on their respective soldiers, the scene was a photographer's delight. Once the gate was thrown open, the liveried representatives of each country enacted a virtual dance-drama. Even as the BSF jawan elegantly marched up to the Pakistani rangers, the latter stomped their feet taking elaborate steps, both parties intimidating each other in mock and jovial fashion. And the crowd got delirious - as though they were witnessing Sachin facing a charging Akhtar!  

The friendly face-off

Incidentally, the body language of both sides has been toned down from a more belligerent display till some time ago - maybe, a sign of the concerted efforts by both nations to discover more peaceful times ahead... 

Sundown 'action' at the border

The show came to a close with the lowering, unfurling and carrying of the flags back - it could as well have been the army variant of the Palki that we witnessed in the morning! Before long, it was to be the 28 km drive back to Amritsar for the Indians and Lahore for the folks from across the border. 

One look at the barbed wire and the green fields that extended for miles in all directions, it was difficult to imagine how unimportant the area must have been some seventy years ago, before it had both glory and pain thrust upon it by events that led to a nation divided. This was exactly where thousands ran, walked, dragged themselves both ways during those painful days of the partition - when old homes and neighbours had to be abandoned, new lives and identities were an unknown struggle ahead. Several died, several were raped and several also survived. The drama is still alive in the history books, some beautifully written narratives and, most importantly, in the heart of all those who lived through those difficult times. As for us, we can only pause and try to remember the horror of those days. 

Barbed fences between brothers

The drive back was spent in reflection on the events of the day. Just a day, and we had done so much - visited a beautiful Gurudwara, strolled through a day in history, and reached within embracing distance of our neighbours across the border.

As the train pulled out of Amritsar station, we knew we had had a great three days. The bulava or the call, from all these magical places was well worth answering. We hoped we would, before long, get another. Even a missed call would do. We would gladly call back!

Jai Mata di... Sat Sri Akal... Jai Hind...
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GLOSSARY (in alphabetical order)
Term Literal meaning (contextual one in brackets)

Akhtar as in Shoaib Akhtar, the feared Pakistani fast bowler
Bollywood the Hindi film industry
BSF acronym of India's Border Security Force
Bulava the call, especially a spiritual call to visit a religious destination (in this case, a call from the Goddess asking the pilgrim to undertake the journey to Vaishno Devi)
Chalo bulava aaya hai A popular Hindi religious song sung by most on the way to Vaishno Devi. Literally means, Come on, we have got the call (from Mata Vaishno Devi).
Darshan sighting of the deity in the sanctum sanctorum of the temple
Gulshan Kumar the late music industry moghul and owner of T-Series, a regular at Vaishno Devi Temple, also published several titles of religious music; was shot dead in 1997.
Gurgaon a suburb of New Delhi
Gurudwara Sikh temple
Jai Hind Hail India (the patriot's standard greeting, cry)
Jai Mata Di The standard slogan or cry every devotee of Mata Vaishno Devi utters. Means 'Hail the Mother'.
Janpath a street market in Connaught Place, central Delhi reputed for its variety of clothes and fashion accessories that can be brought at great prices.
Jawan soldier
Kar Seva Any form of voluntary work performed at a place of worship
Kripan dagger carried by Sikhs
Langar A free kitchen in a Gurudwara where people of all walks of life are served free, vegetarian food
Machhi fish
Mata literally means Mother, the Goddess Vaishno Devi is popularly referred to as Mother
Mohammed Rafi one of the greatest singers India has produced and a legend of the Hindi film music world.
Naan a thick bread made out of wheat
Narendra Chanchal A popular Indian singer of religious songs
Palki a palanquin (here, used to call the carriage used to carry the holy book of the Sikhs)
Paratha Staple part of Indian meals (mostly in the North) - flatbread, made usually of whole wheat, occasionally stuffed with vegetables
Sachin as in Sachin Tendulkar, the Indian cricketing superstar batsman
Samjhauta agreement, compromise (the train service initiated between New Delhi and Lahore was christened the Samjhauta Express)
Sarojini Nagar a popular, bustling market in South Delhi with a fine variety of clothes etc. at great prices.
Sat Sri Akal Punjabi Sikh greeting, hailing the glory of the Lord
Shabad Kirtan A form of hymn singing that is integral to Sikh worship
Swarn Jayanti Dwar Golden Jubilee Gate
T-Series a music publishing company that grew rapidly and was responsible for introducing low priced cassettes.
Tune mujhe bulaya One of Mohammed Rafi's popular songs on Vaishno Devi, translated reads 'You (Mata Vaishno Devi) have called me'.
Yatra The journey (used widely to denote a pilgrimage)