Solo Trip to Rishikesh

While trying to cope up with crazy schedules of a high profile corporate job, the wanderer inside me knew that I wasn’t best suited for it. I was looking for something else. I was looking for answers. And I knew the only way I could find them is by unravelling the adventurer in me. On the hint of an impulse, I decided to take an unplanned trip to the Yoga Capital of India- Rishikesh. Nestled in the foothills of the Himalayas, Rishikesh offers a perfect blend of adventure, breath-taking natural beauty and spiritual awakening.

Jolly Grant Airport at Dehradun is the nearest airport to Rishikesh. The Airport was one of the smallest ones I have been to but also one of the most beautiful one. It was a surprisingly cool afternoon in the month of June.  In India, June is a transit month between summers and monsoons. The sky was filled with dark clouds; the air was moist and chilly. The onset of the first monsoon winds came as a welcome relief to mother earth. “This is going to be a great trip” I thought.

Sunset from the Ghats

 “In Rishikesh, use public transport as far as possible” warned my father before I took off for the airport. Northern parts of India are generally notorious for its crimes against women. Cases of rape, and other heinous crimes against women are common. This required me to be on a high alert all the time. On landing, I immediately started my search for the nearest public bus station to Lakshman Jhula Road, the place where Anand Dham Aashram was located. Aashrams are essentially residential quarters of spiritual masters which were also open for travellers and devotees to provide for food and shelter.

When I came outside the airport gate I could not see a bus station anywhere nearby. “There are no public buses that run from Dehrdun Airport to Rishikesh, you can take a private taxi from there” pointed out the security officer at the airport gate. On my left, I could see a fleet of private taxis with all male drivers, eyeing every passenger as though searching for their next target. I had all sorts of imaginations running in my head. I knew I had no choice. I gulped some water, took a deep breath and walked towards the ticket window.

My diver, Manoj was a thin man in his late thirties with a significantly large moustache. I had insisted for an old and experienced driver. Probably he was the eldest they had. I took a picture of the number plate and car on my phone camera, just in case. Manoj did not seem to like the idea of me taking a picture of his car. He protested. I Ignored and took the picture anyway. It was an hour drive to Lakshman Jhula Road.

My phone battery was at 40%. “Should be enough” I thought, till we reached the Aashram. I was hoping it survives since I had to make sure Manoj was taking the correct route. Around 15 minutes through, we were going on the right route. I was relieved. Just when I thought of dismissing all thoughts of suspicion, the car changed the route to the left instead of right. My heart was in my mouth. “The road to the Aashram is towards the right” I said. No reply. Trying hard to keep my nerve, I asked again. He pointed out to a petrol pump on the edge of the road. “Sigh” I leaned back and stopped panicking, but still alert. While he was filling up the petrol tank I was studying the route on Google Maps to check if there were any back roads or jungle ways. The shortest route was a fairly straight highway. I was hoping he takes that. This was a decision which had pushed me to the edge.

Soon we found ourselves 25 minutes through the drive, steering through beautiful valleys and plains, on the Rishikesh - Dehradun Highway. Breaking the silence, he asked me if I needed to pick up something to eat or some water. I politely dismissed his question, now a little relaxed.

We soon found ourselves stuck in traffic, hinting at the start of civilisation. “It’s Yatra time and hence all this traffic” said Manoj explaining why the area was so crowded. The months of May and June are considered to be holy among pilgrims across India as this is the time when the gates of Amarnath Temple open. All “Yatris” or pilgrims generally flock this region during these months to get the first glimpse of “amaranth ji” the shiv linga made of ice. In order to make it to Amarnath, Rishikesh is generally their base camp. The traffic prolonged the journey by another 30 minutes according to Google Maps.

As we went farther along the way, Manoj and I became friends. We spoke about everything from tourism in Rishikesh to the people of Uttarakhand and Garhwali culture. He spoke about his journey from being a flood victim to taking up a job in a taxi company. He even spoke about his dream of starting his own private taxi business. I told him about my connections back in Mumbai and how I could help. He was delighted. He offered me to visit his home and said he and his family- his wife and 2 daughters would be happy to host me for tea. I found it rather ironic, that the same man, who I had pictured as a rapist just half an hour ago, was actually a decent man of character, who is trying to make ends meet to support his family and pursue his dreams.

As we reached the Ashram, I took down Manoj’s number and promised to call his services in case I needed a taxi. He also gave me his address and said I could reach out to him anytime during my stay in Rishikesh. I gave him a tip of 100 bucks. He smiled and drove away.

“Can I see Ram Baba?” I asked the thin teenage boy guarding the main temple of the Aashram. He took me to Ram Baba, a petite long bearded man nearing his eighties robed in his saffron dhoti and kurta. He gave me a warm welcoming smile, as though I did not need to give an introduction. His deep brown eyes widened as he looked at me. “Have you come alone all the way from Mumbai?” he asked while chanting on his rosary beeds. “Yes” I said. Giving an expression mixed with surprise and confusion, he guided me to my room. “Lunch is ready, do come out once you have rested” He said while closing the door behind me.

The Aashram was a simple place, reflecting the sheer simple living of the spiritual masters. It consisted of residential quarters of the Gurus, a kitchen and food area, a garden, a temple, a yoga hall, and a separate building having rooms for travellers and devotees for their stay in the Aashram. Behind the temple, there was a cowshed where the cows and their calves were fed and taken care of.

A still from "Anand Dham Aashram" at Lakshman Jhula Road.

The Ashram family was blissfully ignorant of urbanisation or westernisation in India. They never seemed to have taken the airplane or heard about the metros, restraunts, touch screen mobile phone or malls. It was overwhelming to comprehend a life that was so different and simple. They cooked food with simple utensils did all the accounting on pen and paper.

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Lakshman Jhula Bridge- Rishikesh

Soon after breakfast the next morning, I decided to explore Rishikesh on foot, which was, of course, a bad idea. Since the famous Lakshman Jhula was close by to the Ashram I set off to explore the iconic bridge. It was flocked with tourists taking selfies, cattle and motorcycles. What was a rather unusual experience that when I was there I got stuck in a first of its kind Human traffic Jam. Since it was “Yatra time” the bridge was more crowded than usual. It actually took 2.5 hours for me to only walk through the bridge, which would otherwise take me not more than 10 minutes to cross on foot! It took a whole fleet of traffic policemen to clear the human traffic. This was the last thing I expected!

After a sumptuous lunch at the Little Buddha café and a rejuvenating head massage at a local ayurvedic centre, I headed off to Parmarth Nikean Asshram to witness the beautiful Ganga Aarti. The environ created by the Aarti left me infused with energy, much of what I needed for my adventure the following day. 

Ganga Aarti at Triveni Ghat

The next morning, I went to Shivpuri, near Rishikesh for an adventure with the white water rapids. Rishikesh is one of the most popular sites for white water rafting around the world. And it is true to every word. A host of adventure companies offer this activity in the mighty river with varied difficulty levels depending upon ones appetite for adventure.

Rafting in the white water

After experiencing simple Aashram Life, a human traffic jam, a rejuvenating massage and a satiating river adventure, it was time to explore the natural beauty of the Uttarakhand region. So, I decided to call Manoj and asked if he can take me to some interesting places around Rishikesh.

We started off by going to a famous Shiva Temple called Neelkanth Mahadev literally meaning “the one with a blue throat”. Legend has it that this was the place Lord Shiva had come to meditate after inhaling the fatal poison of halahal which gave him a blue throat and he came to be known as the “Neelkanth”. Outside I temple, I noticed some local shopkeepers with a cart full of round berry like fruits and people crowding around them. Curiosity took me to observe what was going on. What I saw took me by surprise. The fruits that were in the cart were no ordinary fruits. They were the “Rudraksh fal”. On finding out from the shop keeper he told me “You chose a fruit from this basket and we will peel it for you. The seed of the fruit which lies beneath its outer skin is actually the rudraksh seed which has a great significance in Hindu mythology.” “It is said that the trees on which these fruits are borne grew out of the teardrop of Lord Shiva. These fruits are rare and are only found around this region. The seed can be of varied faces or divisions from 1 to 12, and each type of seed has a significance of its own. The seed with one face is said to be a manifestation of Lord Shiva himself.” He continued. I picked the Rudraksh with 4 faces, known to be lucky for higher education and learning.

After offering prayers at the Neelkanth Mahadev Temple, we headed off for Mussourie, a tiny hill station to the north of Rishikesh. En route Mussourie, we visited a different kind of Shiva Temple. Manoj told me that this was the only Shiva temple in India where it was prohibited to make any monetary donations by devotees. This temple was not a public property unlike most other temples in India; this was a private temple belonging to a local Garhwal Brahmin family. I found this interesting and decided to pay a visit. The vibrations and peace of the temple was nerve chilling. Not many people knew about this temple. “Benefits of making a local connection” I thought to myself.

Sahastradhara falls, Enroute Mussourie 

It was around early evening by the time we reached Mussourie. While I was enjoying the breathtaking view of the hills from a local café, Manoj seemed to be rather unsettled. “What happened, Manoj?” I asked. “Madam, It will take us atleast 3.5 hours to get back to Rishikesh” before I could ask him what was unsettling about that, he continued “we need to get back before 8.00.p.m.”“We can leave by around 6.00 p.m. Manoj, the view from here is beautiful. I would like to stay for another half and hour and then we can leave.” Manoj reluctantly agreed. It was only two hours later that I realised, what was so unsettling about the 8.00 p.m. deadline.

While going from Dehradun to Rishikesh there is a road which is surrounded on both sides by thick forest. The forest is home to fierce, violent, wild elephants. Every evening after sunset, the elephants generally come on to the road and cause damage to any passing vehicle or human. Cases of vehicles smashed by the elephants was common and were reported by local media everyday. Due to this, the local people avoid taking this road after sunset. For people who have to travel after 8 p.m., the local police has deployed a special force to take the cars through the road to the end. For this, cars are only allowed to go in groups of about say 20- 25 cars at a time, led by a local police van. A single vehicle or two wheelers are not allowed through this road after 8.00 p.m. One can also not walk through this road on foot after sunset. The local policing is strict and the entire area is highly regulated. It was about 8:30 p.m. and were waiting with another group of 15 cars along with us. There were no street lights on the road. It was dark. We could hear a loud noise. Possibly a trumpet.

I was scared, and excited. The police van ahead of us signalled us to wait. They could not risk the cars going through. After about 30 minutes, the guard signalled green. We were 20 cars by now. All took off together, at the same speed. While we were halfway through the road we heard a loud “Thud”. “It is probably a tree bark thrown by an elephant” said Manoj. A part of me was hoping to see the wild beast in action while the other half wanted to get to the end of the road safely. “This trip turned to be more of an adventure than I had expected” I thought as we left the mysterious jungle road behind us and entered the town of Rishikesh.

My return flight back to Mumbai was at 2.00 p.m. the following day. Manoj was waiting outside the Aashram Gate at 12.00 p.m. sharp, as directed. I bid adieu to everyone at the Aashram, and donated a small amount towards maintenance of the cows as a gesture of appreciation for hosting me in this wonderful place. The small donation brought immense happiness to them. “It was great having you here, do visit us again” said Ram Baba.

On reaching the airport I cleared Manoj’s dues and walked towards the main gate. Before I went too far I heard Manoj call “Madamji one minute”. I turned around and saw him holding out a small box. “My wife had made this today, she has sent this for you.” The box contained ‘kachoris’ a local snack. I was overwhelmed by his gesture. “Thank you Manoj, this means a lot”