Caught in the clamour and joy of Navaratri, the temple-town of Ujjain came alive on the banks of the placid Shipra river. An otherwise quiet town, rapt in quaint traditions, it was dressed for the nine-day celebrations with fluroscent lights and myriad floral decorations. It's ancient temples teeming with pilgrims, tourists and sadhus - making the religious fervour palpable in the autumnal October milieu. Roadside kiosks busy with quick transactions...they had everything on offer, from fresh flowers, toys, picture postcards, idols, clothes, aromatic Indian snacks to bhaang laden lassi.
The Avantika of yore (erstwhile Ujjain of King Ashoka's father), however, seems to exist in fleeting glimpses only - dotted here and there across this small yet legendary town...it comes alive in the Mahakaal temple's exotic yet strikingly imposing architecture; and more so at the Mangalnath and Kaalbhairav temples whose odd stone-idols hurl you back, almost instantly, to an unknown pagan era. Otherwise this ancient town wears the usual chaos and clutter of any old, Indian city, struggling to keep pace with modern sensibilities...no wonder then that an ice-cream joint and a glitzy mall seem so out of place here, at odds almost with the pristine Hindu traditions, that define its character. Strains of an 80's Lata Mangeshkar song - "sheesha ho ya dil ho aakhir toot jaata hain" floats into my ear; while garish posters of Bollywood stars, holy saints and political leaders demand my attention. This is the India that I crave to go back to time and again - a people and a city moving on in its self-created rhythms!
No comments:
Post a Comment