The cold winds of dusk swept across her banks and her waters flowed luxuriously. Priests chanted her name in reverence, for she has shaped this city and the landmarks around it. Water, worshipped by fire, that of the many armed lamps the priest held aloft. On the banks by our side, devotees chanted along, because the river is not just water, she is a goddess - one of the great ones that traverse India, the Narmada. Piety came naturally to us as we looked back on the day that showed us the Narmada in all its splendour - first at the Dhuandhar falls and then at the Marble Rocks of Bhedaghat.
It's unbelievable now to think that I almost didn't include Jabalpur in my travel plans. I was on a history-focused trip with my trusted companions through Central India. Between Bhopal and Khajuraho, Jabalpur seemed quite a bit of detour and for attractions that didn't seem very exciting. More popular as a gateway to tiger reserves than for its own sights, I didn't expect much even as I got off the train late at night - 24 hours later I was glad to be wrong!
Dhuandhar catches you unawares. The parking lot was dusty and the winding path that led up to the viewing area, choc-a-bloc with assembly line wares on display. You gravitate towards the dim sound of the churning water that your ears pick up as you get closer and closer. Almost unexpectedly, the vistas open up. The travellers throng around, expectant that the Narmada's majesty will quench their thirst much more than her waters. They make their way to a viewing platform, beside the cliff from where the Narmada thunders down.
It feels like an outpouring of emotion. The Narmada, all composed and elegant until there, lets her hair down, and puts on a display of her raw, unrestrained personality for a fraction of a second, and then, as though conscious that so many are staring - intoxicated, regains her composure and flows onwards, as though nothing ever happened.
But something has happened, her fans have become her devotees. Why else would all of us stand transfixed for so long? I'm certain that there are mightier waterfalls than the Dhuandhar, but this is the best I've seen so far. I could imagine the rage of the cascading water at the height of the monsoon swell, since even December put on such a spectacular show.
As does happen with popular tourist spots, you need to jostle for space to eliminate all the unintentional photo bombers and get that one picture where it seems that the river gave you a private audience. Afterwards, we walked a bit upstream, where the river is calmer and the banks emptier. I cursed my clumsiness as I struggled to cross the uneven rocks while my friends raced ahead. But once I did make it to the banks injury-free (I decided to ditch my friends for a bit and sat well away) it was relief to sit there, with my shoes off and my legs suspended into the tingling, cool water. I enjoyed these minutes of solitude immensely, accompanied only by a small frog which sat, almost motionless on a nearby rock.
I didn't feel like leaving the falls behind, but awaiting us a few minutes downstream, was another enchanting locale - the Marble Rocks of Bhedaghat.
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Rohan
Words flow from your pen (rather keyboard) in an elegant manner like the water of river Narmada. I was simpely in awe with the nature's wonder and was glad to revisit the place through your blog.
ReplyDeleteWords flow from your pen (rather keyboard) in an elegant manner like the water of river Narmada. I was simpely in awe with the nature's wonder and was glad to revisit the place through your blog.
ReplyDelete