Besieged and isolated, Shivraj Giri set his eyes on a dhooni lying deserted at Vishnu Ghat. Though he had taken possession of it before Madhusudan Giri’s rise to power in Awahan akhara, he had never really given it much consideration. But the new circumstances left him with no option but to develop the dhooni as his new abode. ‘The dhooni was started long ago by a naga, who also planted a jamun tree beside it. As that naga belonged to the Bharati lineage of Dasanani sanyasis, the dhooni is still called Jamun Bharati’s dhooni,’ he said. Interestingly, Jamun Bharati was the only naga in the long list of the occupants of this dhooni who stayed here till his death. None of the others who succeeded him could retain it for long. After the death of Jamun Bharati, the dhooni passed on to his disciple, Maujanand Bharati, who had to leave the place following differences with some local nagas. In the subsequent years, the dhooni changed hands several times, with nobody being able to turn it into a permanent abode.
‘The first time I visited the dhooni, it was under the occupation of one Ram Puri. That was in 1998, a few days before I left the post of kothari in Awahan akhara. Later that year, while I sat beside this dhooni during one of my short trips to Haridwar, I saw Ram Puri quarrelling with a local person, who was notorious as a goon. Ram Puri suspected that this person—I don’t remember his name now, though I was acquainted with him—had stolen a beautiful portable tent, which had been gifted to him by a foreign devotee. That very night, a group of unknown people came and vandalised this dhooni. Ram Puri was beaten up and chased away. He never returned.’
For over five years, no one dared to revive the dhooni of Jamun Bharati and it remained abandoned. Shivraj Giri visited the site now and then. He loved that the spot overlooked the Ganga and wanted to explore the possibility of starting his own dhooni there. ‘When it became clear that Madhusudan Giri would take over Awahan akhara, I started feeling insecure. One day, while I was sitting beside that abandoned dhooni, the same man who was instrumental in chasing away Ram Puri passed by. I stopped him and sought his permission to revive that dhooni. He gave me permission and I started preparations for its renovation,’ he said. ‘Over the next few months, I spent a fairly good amount on the dhooni and got an elevated platform constructed beside it under the jamun tree. I also started spending more time here.’
But even then he did not consider making it his permanent abode until he lost all hopes of getting support from the VHP. By the time of the 2010 Kumbh, he was already known to be the occupant of Jamun Bharati’s dhooni.
IV
It was because of this history of the dhooni that the locals did not appear to be particularly shocked by the attack on Shivraj Giri.
‘It was strange that Shivraj Giri did not think of any steps to protect himself before he was actually attacked,’ said Vinod Rawat, a tea-stall owner at Vishnu Ghat.8 ‘But it was even stranger that his devotees and disciples left him almost alone that night in spite of the fact that there was a widespread feeling among rival nagas that he had earned a lot during the Kumbh Mela.’ In fact, many of the vendors who were at Vishnu Ghat knew that an attack on Shivraj Giri was imminent. ‘Even before the end of the Kumbh Mela, it seemed impossible that he would be allowed to remain untouched for long,’ said Harish Sharma,9 another vendor near Jamun Bharati’s dhooni. ‘Therefore, every morning when I saw him safe and sound I used to think that he has got one more day to secure himself.’
Yet, Shivraj Giri believed that he was lucky to have not been killed; his attackers could have easily murdered him. But he also knew that his time at Vishnu Ghat was up. ‘So great and intertwined were the two contrasting feelings of abandonment and relief that I thought it was awful to stay in Haridwar,’ he said, ‘and I decided to leave the banks of the Ganga.’
For the first time in eighteen years after becoming a naga, he felt dejected. ‘It was as if I had understood myself for the first time in my life. I knew that I would soon be starting a long journey now, but I didn’t know how that would happen.’
As Shivraj Giri was consumed by these thoughts the morning after he was attacked, Uma Giri, his French disciple, came to him. ‘Early in the morning that day I was supposed to meet some of the foreign devotees in Rishikesh. They were members of a group called Rainbow Family. But when I didn’t reach there on time they became anxious. Uma Giri, herself a member of the Rainbow Family, informed them about the incident of the previous night as well as my condition that morning,’ Shivraj Giri said. ‘Some members of the Rainbow Family then came in a van and took me along to their camp in Rishikesh.’
The Rainbow Family of Living Light is an informal group of hippies, musicians, jugglers and all kinds of peculiar people who congregate at a given place—the Himalayas being one of their most preferred destinations—and set up a village to last a moon’s cycle. In such a temporary settlement, there are hand-dug shit pits, a common kitchen fuelled by wood and a central fire around which people gather to eat in a large circle twice a day. The entire village runs like a commune and every member contributes something, as per their abilities, for the common meal. Once their sojourn ends, all the structures are taken down, the vans trundle out and the place looks like nobody had been there. The group has members in several countries. Most members found in India are foreigners, though there are some Indians, too. There is no central Rainbow organisation and it does not exist on paper. Instead, the gatherings are kept going by various ‘Rainbow Families’, who are mostly long-term members and as such take some of the responsibility of coordinating with the other members for organising their camps on a regular basis.
Though Shivraj Giri had known some members of the Rainbow Family, he became more closely acquainted with them in the months leading up to the 2010 Kumbh. ‘Some of my disciples were members of the Rainbow Family who had set up camps inside the forest close to Rishikesh,’ he said. ‘One day, about three months before the beginning of the Kumbh Mela in Haridwar, they took me to their camp in the forest and asked me to stay there for some time. I stayed with them during the day, and in the evening I decided to return to my dhooni. Just when I was about to get out of the forest, I saw over 100 policemen marching towards their camp. I immediately went back and alerted them about the impending danger. They started to pack in panic, but I told them not to dislodge their camps. I then talked to the police officers and persuaded them to give those foreigners some time so that they could move out of the forest in an orderly manner. After that, I started frequently interacting with the Rainbow Family.’
It was this group of foreigners who came to his rescue when Shivraj Giri lay grievously injured. ‘That morning they took me to Rishikesh, and from there we started off for Almora in vans that very evening,’ he said. ‘Over a dozen members of the Rainbow Family were travelling with me. It was a wonderful trip. Despite all my pains, I couldn’t remember ever having been so happy. It didn’t bother me that the nagas had looted everything that I had. After a day’s journey we reached Almora.’
In the forest area outside the city of Almora, the Rainbow Family set up their camps, dug shit-pits and arranged wood for cooking, heating and lighting the central fire. Under the care of the members of the Rainbow Family, Shivraj Giri began to recover quickly. The swelling on his legs and hands reduced within a week or so. He was able to stand, sit and walk properly without anyone’s help. His piles also seemed to subside. While he was recuperating, the Rainbow Family swelled to almost 100. Shivraj Giri stayed with them for a month and then decided to move on.
‘So one day after meal, while all the members of the Rainbow Family were sitting around the central fire, I revealed my decision to go further up the Himalayas towards the Pindari glacier. They tried to persuade me to drop the idea and return to Rishikesh with them. But my mind was made up. The next morning, I left the camp and walked alone towards the Pindari glacier,’ Shivraj Giri said. ‘I kept walking through the jungles and then through snow, eating whatever I could find in the forest. Then I stationed myself in a cave, staying there for seven days and seven nights.
Then, I started wandering through the snow again.’
He was so disillusioned with the world he had left behind that he didn’t want to go back, he said. ‘I thought that whatever had happened to me might happen again. It seemed meaningless to return to the same old world. I was disgusted with my life and I wanted to die. But death does not come when you want it to.’
The most remarkable change that Shivraj Giri noticed in the interior Himalayas was how much more time he had on his hands. ‘It was amazing. When I was in Haridwar I rarely had the time to think about questions of religion and metaphysics. Now I suddenly had all this extra time,’ he said.
But as soon as his sense of abandonment faded away, Shivraj Giri began to miss the glamour of his former life. Why would one who has renounced everything crave that same old world again, especially after being violently removed from it? His explanation is simple and perhaps camouflaged: ‘I missed my dhooni, and I loved living on the edge of the Ganga.’
V
So, a few months later, Shivraj Giri went back to Haridwar. Though he could traverse the Himalayas by himself, he could not muster the courage to return to his dhooni at Vishnu Ghat. For a year, he wandered through various parts of Uttarakhand—Almora, Nainitaal, Uttarkashi, Shri Nagar, among others places—before making his way to Vishnu Ghat one fine morning. ‘My dhooni was under the occupation of a newly anointed ascetic of Juna akhara called Bhura Baba,’ Shivraj Giri said. ‘It was only at Haridwar Kumbh [of 2010] that Bhura Baba had taken sanyas under the new name of Gajendra Giri. Beside the elevated platform, there was an open space where I had planted a banyan tree. That portion of the dhooni had come under the possession of Shankar Giri, another young naga of Juna akhara.’
Shivraj Giri decided not to assert his claim on the dhooni that very day. The atmosphere seemed hostile and his own position rather fragile. He examined his options and concluded that making a move without taking those in the community into confidence would increase the danger of losing his dhooni forever; he would have to make gradual inroads back to his dhooni.
He left Vishnu Ghat and reached Rishikesh by afternoon. Over the next few days, he kept moving from one dhooni to another in search of a temporary shelter, eventually setting up near Laxman Jhoola at Rishikesh.
For almost a year, this dhooni near Laxman Jhoola served as Shivraj Giri’s base from where he mounted a campaign to reclaim his old abode in Haridwar. As he settled down at Rishikesh, his old associates and devotees started flocking to him again. He was soon rediscovered by some of his foreign devotees as well. But Shivraj Giri remained restless and yearned for his dhooni at Vishnu Ghat.
Then he started executing his plan. First, he won over most of the vendors of Vishnu Ghat. Then he started visiting his dhooni more frequently. ‘Finally, it became difficult for Bhura Baba to hold out on his own. Public opinion was in my favour, and I started spending even nights near the dhooni at Vishnu Ghat along with my disciples and supporters. And one day, I struck a deal with Bhura Baba, who agreed to vacate the dhooni,’ Shivraj Giri said, without revealing the details of this deal. A part of the dhooni, with the banyan tree, still continues to be under Shankar Giri’s possession.
Having regained his beloved dhooni after two years, Shivraj Giri lost no time in shifting back to Vishnu Ghat.
VI
Shivraj Giri was glad to be back at his dhooni, which became busy again with the presence of his loyalists, disciples and those who wanted nothing but free hits of marijuana. He can usually be found sitting like a content cat under the shadow of the jamun tree on the elevated platform, which he reconstructed in 2013, a year after getting it back. The dhooni along this platform is under a canvas tent overlaid with a black tarpaulin sheet. His hair has grown, now touching his shoulder but still not long enough to turn into dreadlocks. His beard too has now filled his face and tails down his chest.
Every time a newcomer stops by to watch the naked naga, Shivraj Giri makes it a point to show him his personal album, filled with photographs of his good old days when his dreadlocks, black then, used to look glorious.
Dharma Giri and Gyan Giri, the two disciples who were with him until that fateful night of 2010, are nowhere in sight. The horrors of that night frightened Dharma Giri so much that he never returned to the dhooni. Gyan Giri, who was beaten up mercilessly by the jealous nagas, lost his mental balance.
When asked about Dharma and Gyan Giri, their ex-guru resorted to philosophy: ‘Nothing is permanent in this world, not even disciples.’
He has a new set of disciples. Maybe the next Kumbh Mela in Haridwar—to be held in 2021—will even bring back the good old days. But, is he certain that the night of 16 April 2010 will never revisit him?
6
WHAT IS IN A NAME?
Akharas make huge profits from bestowing coveted titles that turn sadhus into preacher-leaders—an opportunity that sometimes lands them in embarassing controversies. In particular, the title of mahamandaleshwar granted by Shaiva akharas, and which comes with a hefty price tag, but has become a constant source of trouble for the akharas.
Shortly before the 2013 Allahabad Kumbh Mela, sadhus of Juna akhara—the biggest and most influential among the Dasanami akharas—were enraged when news broke out that its managers had granted the title of mahamandaleshwar to Radhe Maa, a female ascetic in her early forties. There was brief outrage following Mahanirvani akhara’s decision to award the title to a female ascetic in 1954,1 but since then, almost every major akhara has opened up its titles to female ascetics. Clearly, it was not Radhe Maa’s gender that upset the sadhus of Juna.
Radhe Maa is a familiar figure in the mainstream media. She was born Sukhvinder Kaur alias Gudia, and lived in Gurdaspur, Punjab until she moved to Mumbai after her marriage. There, she lived with the family of a businessman who ran an advertising agency. On the day of her consecration, she flew from Mumbai to Delhi, from where she travelled in a cavalcade of luxury cars to Haridwar and stayed in a posh hotel. Around midnight on 31 July 2012, Radhe Maa was taken to the camp, where she was anointed mahamandaleshwar by the akhara’s acharya, Avdheshanand Giri. The next morning she returned to Delhi and then flew back to Mumbai. The arrangements for the ceremony were made by Hari Giri, the most powerful man in the akhara at that time, although officially he was one of the four secretaries of the marhis, who were supposed to run the akhara collectively.
Within days, the issue snowballed into a major controversy. Most nagas in Juna—except for Hari Giri’s coterie—as well as in other akharas, questioned the consecration. It was alleged that the ceremony was conducted secretly in the middle of the night to keep attention away from the huge amounts of cash that had exchanged hands.2 Radhe Maa’s lavish lifestyle and eccentric, un-guru-like persona added to the suspicion of the Dasanami sanyasis. They also alleged that she had not even taken sanyas. ‘Radhe Maa is a walking beauty parlour,’ Yatindranand Giri, the Haridwar-based mahamandaleshwar attached to Juna akhara, told me. ‘There is not even an ounce of ascetic quality in her.’
Though Hari Giri was the focus of the anger, no one could directly accuse this prominent VHP ally. As pressure mounted, Juna akhara suspended Radhe Maa’s title the very next day and announced that an enquiry committee would look into the anointment, promising that Radhe Maa’s title would be revoked in the event of an adverse report. Three days later, the akhara constituted a five-member enquiry committee, which was to submit a report within three months. However, the majority of the probe panel were hardcore loyalists of Hari Giri, including Mahamandaleshwar Panchanand Giri, who had, in fact, suggested Radhe Maa for the coveted title.3 Meanwhile, a representative of Radhe Maa told the media that she had all the qualifications to become a mahamandaleshwar and that she was ready for any kind of probe.4
The controversy lost steam as preparation for the Allahabad Kumbh due to begin in January 2013 took centre stage, and the deadline set for the probe panel passed unnoticed. However, after the first shahi snan on 14 January, rumours spread that Radhe Maa would be join
ing the contingent of Juna’s mahamandaleshwars for the second shahi snan on 9 February. The rumours picked up steam when the local media reported on 23 January that the probe panel had given a clean chit to Radhe Maa. The media report also quoted Hari Giri as having said that a decision would soon be reached.5
As soon as this news broke, there was a ruckus in Juna akhara, and its office-bearers were forced to call an emergency meeting that very morning. Later that day, two of the four secretaries of the akhara, mahants Prem Giri and Vidyanand Saraswati, declared at a press conference that a final decision was still pending, as it was only Panchanand Giri, and not the entire committee, who had given a clean chit to Radhe Maa. They also clarified that, since the report will not be in before the end of the Kumbh Mela, Radhe Maa will not be allowed to participate in any of the royal baths at Allahabad.6
Though Juna akhara was spared further embarrassment during the Kumbh, it was a personal humiliation for Hari Giri. In his six years as a secretary of Juna akhara, his decision had never been challenged. A close aide of Hari Giri told me that his temporary defeat was like ‘water off a duck’s back’ and he would ‘have another go at it sooner rather than later’, echoing the thoughts of others familiar with his tactics.
But, according to Divyanand Saraswati, who succeeded Vidyanand Saraswati as one of the secretaries of Juna akhara at the end of the Allahabad Kumbh, Hari Giri was restrained by acharya Avdheshanand Giri, who threatened to leave the Kumbh midway if the controversy over Radhe Maa continued or if she was allowed to be part of the akhara’s shahi julus.7 Hari Giri might be the most feared man in the akhara, but the acharya mahamandaleshwar is considered the spiritual head and is the most respected in the institution.
Ascetic Games Page 14
