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The Lake of the Serpent
 At
the Chandanwadi campsite, the first halt en route to Amarnath, we had
our breakfast of alu parathas and hot cardamom tea. We also acquired
two horses (or perhaps mules), one to carry Dr.Netra, who was not
used to trekking, and the other for our bags or as a stand by in case
we felt exhausted. A little distance from Chandanwadi, the climb
became very steep. There were mountains after mountains to be
crossed. Every now and then, we became breathless. Actually, the
Yatra season proper had ended two days earlier on 'Shravan Poornima'
day, which coincides with the festival of Raksha Bandhan. There were
only 10 to 15 latecomers like us on the path that day. All
arrangements made by the authorities had been withdrawn and only a
few tents were still standing. The camp kitchens were functioning
only for the staff engaged in dismantling the camps at Sheshnag and
Panchtarani, two important halts en route. On the way to Sheshnag, we
met a group of tall, handsome, turbaned men of the Gujjar tribe. They
wore Pathan suits with fancy jackets and carried guns. They gave us
hot tea and 'sattu' (roasted rice flour). We mixed the flour in our
tea and ate the paste, which was like thick glue. It was very tasty
and nourishing.
We also saw many beautiful girls of the Gujjar and Bakarwal tribes
grazing their sheep and goats. The wool from these high altitude goats
is used for making the fabled Pashima fabric for shawls. At one time
in history, Pashima Jamwar shawls kept the entire royalty of Europe
warm. You see specimens in all European museums, including the British
Museum and the Lourve. Some of the Gujjar girls carried little lambs
on their shoulders. We reached Seshnag (the Lake of the Serpent King)
by noon. I have never seen a more beautiful body of water. The lake is
down the side of the mountain framed by rough rocks, its water
reflecting hues of sky blue, indigo, leaf green, peacock green,
midnight blue, all put together. Sheshnag, the Serpent King of the
Nether World, is also guardian of the pilgrims and the holy cave of
Amarnath.
The water was clear and a group of mountaineers from abroad were
sitting by the lakeside and eating their lunch of sandwiches, boiled
eggs and apples. Totally engrossed in the beauty of nature and
oblivious of everything else, they seemed to be in another realm,
without a care in the world. We reached our camp and sprawled on the
cots there. A piping hot meal of potato curry, rice and lentils with a
piece of onion and a green chilli was brought. We enjoyed it as though
it was some divine food and felt utterly thankful to the workers and
cooks staying on to serve pilgrims like us. We also drank plenty of
nectar-like spring water.
After a little rest, we started for Panchtarani. The path was not very
steep, but it was narrow, and ran with the mountain rising sheer and
high on one side and a deep abyss on the other, which was very scary.
We kept to the mountainside and avoided looking into the abyss. To add
misery to our fears, it started raining and, of course, we had neither
raincoats nor umbrellas, a must for such journeys. The path became
muddy and slushy and our heavy woollen clothes became wet and sticky.
Walking became cumbersome and we were freezing with cold. There was
nowhere to go, no shelter, no turning back. So we just trudged on. The
rain stopped after an hour and the sun came out, fierce and strong.
Our clothes dried on our bodies and soon we were sweating as the path
had suddenly become very steep. We were nearing Mahagunus Pass
(literally the Pass of the Serpent Queen), the highest point in the
Yatra. Nearby, was a small, beautiful waterfall. We bathed there and
felt refreshed and cool. But I was exhausted. So I got on the other
horse and rode across Mahagunus Pass, which took about half an hour,
and kept going towards Panchtarani…
(To be continued next week)
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