The year was 1290 . A crowd had gathered around a clearing, where broken down pillars marked the presence of an ancient temple, now long gone. A young boy, just 14 years old, leaned against one of those pillars, deep in thought. Then, he began speaking, and the crowd fell silent, listening to his every word. He spoke without any notes, translating the Bhagavat Gita, from Sanskrit, which only the pundits knew, to the language everyone in the village knew and spoke – a variety of Prakrit which developed into the Marathi language. Even as he spoke, one of the men in the audience realized how momentous this event was, and how important this composition would be. He began writing down the words the young boy spoke, and this composition was named by its author and composer, the Bhavartha Deepika – the enlightening meaning (of the Bhagavat Gita). Now, the ancient, holy text, was no longer restricted to the pundits, but accessible to all, understood easily by them, composed as it was, in their...
Walking down from Sewri Railway
station, we were met with blank stares when we asked for directions to the
Christian Cemetery. It was only when we asked for ‘Church ka bada Kabrastan’, that a few people nodded and showed us
the way. If they were surprised that a woman and a child were asking directions
to the cemetery late in the evening, they didn’t show it! Anyways, what were we
doing, going to a cemetery so late? We were heading there to meet our fellow
Travel-loggers and set out on a Halloween themed walk, starting at the
cemetery.
“Would we go inside the
cemetery?” was the only question Samhith had, but I had my doubts. Waiting at
the cemetery gates for the others to show up (yes, we reached early, as usual),
people passing by glanced at us, probably wondering what we were doing there,
but thankfully, the Mumbai attitude of minding their own business prevailed,
and they kept their thoughts to themselves. The others soon turned up, and thus
began an interesting one and a half hours of conversation regarding death,
spirits, rituals and beliefs from various cultures.
The talk began with the origins
of the word, ‘Halloween’. The roots of the celebration go far, far back, to the
Celtic harvest festivals, to a time when the onset of winter was heralded by
preparing for the long nights, of remembering and appeasing spirits, since
winters were difficult to get through. With the arrival of Christianity,
celebrations and names changed, though the dates remained much the same. The
Gaelic Samhain was replaced by All Saints Day, and All Souls Day, both of which
later gave way to Hallows Eve, which eventually became ‘Halloween’. Thus do
pagan rituals and feasts live on, albeit under a different guise. Perfectly apt
for Halloween, don’t you think?
Our crowd brought out the night
watchman of the cemetery who had us enthralled with his stories of hearing
strange sounds in the night, of the cart wheels moving by themselves, and
someone calling out to him, by name, over and over again. While Samhith hung on
to his every word, probably trying to remember so he could tell his friends, I
wondered what it was like for the men who worked there, day after day. Living
in the midst of death, what would their life be like?
We tried our best to convince him
to let us enter, but he was a conscientious man, and refused. So then, we moved
on, to our other destination – the Sewri Fort.
Even in the daytime, the fort can
be a lonely place, with all the warehouses and trucks around, and not a soul to
be seen, apart from those in the dargah nearby. In the night, with few
streetlights, you can imagine what it would be like. The first pic in this post
was clicked here, while we were climbing the steps to the fort.
As it turned out, the fort was
occupied by squatters, so we simply stood at the entrance, the sharp contrast
between the darkness of the fort and the bright light of the dargah simply
enhancing the lateness of the hour.
The dargah |
with people from the Dargah |
While I have been to the fort before, I had
never entered the dargah, so it was a surprise. Rebuilt completely about 15-20
years ago, the dargah is a new one, and is there no remnant or reminder of the
original structure which stood here for centuries. The present structure is a
simple one, built like any other mosque or dargah, with nothing to make it
stand apart. The fact that it is the resting place of not just one saint but
two – Jalal Shah and Murad Shah, who were brothers, makes it interesting, but
like most interesting things in this busy city, little is known about them, or
their dargah.
The view from the Dargah |
I knew that the fort has a
wonderful view of the sea, and should have expected the dargah to have the
same, but even then, I was surprised. Sitting there, on the open terrace, with
the sea breeze blowing, we continued our talk of Halloween. To add to the fun,
were witch hats and bat bracelets, not to mention candies! I have no idea if
Samhith followed our conversation of spirits in different cultures, but he
enjoyed the treats and listened as avidly as he could, sleepy as he was! A few
cats added to the atmosphere, purring, begging for treats, jumping between us
at least expected moments. Uninvited they might have been, but they were the perfect guests to our Halloween party.
One of our feline gate crashers! |
Time passes by quickly, when in
the company of like-minded people, and so it did, this time too. Everyone
joined the discussion, with rituals and practices related to death in their own
cultures, and what was most apparent was how similar these rituals were, even
though they appeared to be so diverse.
We next went into an old,
decrepit, abandoned building right next door, belonging to the Customs
Department, trying to imagine how long it had been abandoned, and why. Were
there ghosts around? It was surely a creepy place, in a terrible condition,
whether due to time, or vandals, we can’t be sure, but if it wasn’t for the
number of people around, it would have been a scary experience. As it was, all
we could do was explore the ground level, staying clear of the first floor,
trying to navigate our way around, without stumbling on an overgrown creeper,
or a broken piece of tile.
It was difficult to believe that
we had spent almost an hour in the dargah, but time waits for none, and the
people at the dargah were waiting for us to leave, so they could leave too. Waiting
beyond the time limit might have added to the spooky thrill, but obviously
those in the dargah wanted to take no chances, though they all assured us there
were no spirits around. “Baba takes care of his own” was their only refrain.
And it was on that note, that we
left, and headed our separate ways, full of thoughts of superstition and
rituals, all arising from the mystery surrounding death and the afterlife.
Note: The walk was an enjoyable one, and I enjoyed the conversations
more than the places themselves, especially since I had been there before. This
is not the only such spooky place in Mumbai. There are many such abandoned
places around, all of which can ensure a suitably spooky atmosphere. However, it
is not advisable to explore any of these places alone, even in the day, no
matter how high the spooky or the thrill quotient. Go ahead and explore, but go
with a group, and above all, stay safe!
Hi Anu,
ReplyDeleteRegularly am ready your blog. It is really interesting than your regular travel. Great!!! good taste in the life and am more happy that in all the way your son with you..Good one!!!
Thank you, Sagar!
DeleteThis is a very interesting travelogue!! Good one, Anu.
ReplyDeleteThanks Niranjan!
DeleteWhen was it, Anu? Yesterday? Very interesting indeed.
ReplyDeleteThis was last friday, Nisha. was really fun too!
Deletelove your posts anu! had always been a pleasure reading them an discovering unknown, hidden nooks of my country. this post makes me feel the trip was better than the conventional trick or treating and halloween fanfare which has assumed ginormous proportions these days. small is beautiful. keep up the travel spirit. I will never miss your posts
Delete