I am not sure how I would describe my
irrepressible desire to visit Taktsang Monastery from the very first moment I
came to know about it. Was it my devotion towards Buddhism? Was it the
adrenaline rush that filled my veins at the mere thought of doing something as
rigorous as hiking up to 3000 ft? Or was it just a desperate attempt to create
some temporary purpose in my apparently directionless life? Whatever the
objective might be, I am sure it was definitely not salvation. I don’t have
that hope anymore. I have gone beyond help long time ago. Perhaps that’s why I
no longer feel any guilt while committing or even thinking of something
aberrant.
Every country, every culture has something
of its own to represent its unique identity. India has got that colossal
mausoleum made by an erratic, incompetent emperor in the loving memory of his
wife who died giving birth to their fourteenth child. Why does it always have
to be so ironic and hypocritical whenever it comes to India? Anyway. Taktsang
Monastery is Bhutan’s cultural icon. There is not a single write up on Bhutan
that does not come with a picture of this ancient monastery hanging dangerously
from the side of a precipice. It is needless to say that a Bhutan trip is all
but complete sans a visit to this seventeenth century marvel. Even Kate
Middleton and Prince William would agree with that.
The myth surrounding Taktsang Palphug
Monastery dates back to the 8th century when Guru Padmasambhava flew
in on the back of a flying tigress from Tibet and meditated here in the
Taktsang Senge Samdup cave for three years, three months, three weeks, three
days and three hours. In 1692, Tenzin Rabgye (the same guy who renovated Tango
Monastery) built a monastery around the cave. However there is a more
interesting story behind Guru Rinpoche’s flying adventure – and that story
involves a woman. Well, love inevitably either leads to something legendary or
something equally disastrous. Lucky are those who make history out of them.
However it was not a conventional one.
Yeshe Tsogyel was the queen consort of the
first Tibetan king Trisong Detsen who ruled Tibet during the 8th
century. During his rule, King Detsen invited Nalanda University abbot
Santarakshita to preach Dharma to Tibet. That time, the people of Tibet used to
follow a shamanic religion named Bon. Upon his arrival, Shantarakshita started
to build Samye Monastery, the first monastery of Tibet. But
his task was hindered due to the demonic disturbances in the area. So the
Emperor invited Guru Padmasambhava and sought his help. Rinpoche subjugated the
demon and got Yeshe Tsogyel in reward. Yeshe became one of his most important
consorts. Rinpoche taught Yeshe that a female body is not a hindrance to
enlightenment, it is rather an asset. Yeshe Tsogyel later became a Tantric teacher
herself and she is considered to be a female Buddha. In his book “Sky Dancer :
The Secret Life and Songs of the Lady Yeshe Tsogyel” Keith Dowman depicted how
Guru Rinpoche’s ‘flaming vajra’ took command of her ‘lotus throne’ – the
description of the initiation ritual is a pure delight to the senses.
One might wonder why I took all the trouble
to talk about an ancient Tantric goddess here. It is because my dear reader it
was none other than Yeshe Tsogyel who flew in Guru Rinpoche to our cave. She
was the flying tigress.
After having breakfast when we reached the
base it was 10 o’ clock in the morning. There was a small makeshift market
where local women were selling trinkets, artifacts and of course, walking
sticks. I told S that if we took walking stick for a 3 hours’ hiking, we should
drown ourselves in our own spit and die. So our journey began. The rocky
winding trail starts from the base and soon vanishes into the woods. And it
gets steeper and narrower with time.
I am highly sensitive to the cold and
Paro’s cold had induced me to wear three layers of sweaters and jackets. I had
thought I was going to climb up to 3000 ft (10240 ft from the sea level) so I
must need additional protection. I wasn’t wrong exactly but after 20 minutes
into hiking I was covered in sweat and panting heavily. I saw nobody else was
around except two of us. I told S to stop and keep an eye on the road while I
took off my jacket and top and left the sweater on.
The best part about trekking is that you
end with the same people you started your journey with, but in between it’s a
game of taking the lead or trying to catch up. We started with a not so small
group of teenagers with an ‘insufferable know-it-all’ looking older guy who was
definitely the leader, another group of two dudes (they were very much
interested in me, but couldn’t do much about it as they must have thought S was
my bae or something. Word of advice – never travel alone with your forever
friendzoned companion. You would be a loser from both ends.), a Bangladeshi
couple and a group of very good looking tall, dark, handsome men who if I’m not
too wrong were from Tamilnadu. On our way we kept bumping into the ones who had
already accomplished their mission and coming down with smug faces and
patronising attitudes. Some were telling how little we had reached so far. Some
were advising to halt and take rest on regular intervals. The local guides and porters were
returning with their horses and asking if we needed one.
Very soon we found our Bangladeshi couple
sitting on a rock and discussing whether they should go all the way to the
temple or go until the view point. Here is a little thing that I must point
out. So far every blog, every travelogue I read about Tiger’s Nest Monastery I
couldn’t help noticing one thing – all the photos were taken from the same
angle and same distance. And I wondered why. Ok I knew that photography was not
allowed once you are inside. But what about from outside the gate? Why is every
photo taken from a convenient distance and not any closer? And I found my
answer on the way. Most people (and by most, I mean 95% of people) do
NOT visit the monastery. They go until the view point, jump and make faces,
take photos, come back and then brag how they have gone up to the famous Tiger’s
Nest Monastery.
There is a small cafeteria on the way where
one can halt and recharge. Everything was exorbitantly priced there but given
the difficulty to run a cafeteria so high up there in the middle of nowhere,
the pricing was totally justifiable. We were sitting there sipping juice and
patting a bunch of dogs who were more than happy to let me scratch their
bellies when two people dressed in uniform came up to us and very politely
requested us to move as the princess of Thailand was coming to sit there.
Generally it would have evoked my anger and I would have lectured them that we
were in God’s abode and everyone was equal etc etc. But they were so polite I
couldn’t say anything and I was rather curious to check out the princess. I
thought I would see a stunning woman wearing bejeweled gown and tiara but all I
saw was a very inconspicuous looking girl in tracksuit and sneakers. Alright I
have a wild imagination. Who would go hiking in gown?
The group of teenagers and their leader had
already pissed the hell out of us. S and I were trying to figure out where they
were from. “They must be from Bombay. Or Pune.” “No no. Look they are listening
to Honey Singh on speaker so loudly. They are definitely from Delhi.” “I think
we should shut our ears or our IQs would also drop.” “I’m going to stay back
until they are out of sight or I will definitely push that trekking expert
leader off the cliff.”
We are so much nearer now. |
The weather had changed drastically and it’d
become cloudy and foggy. We were not carrying umbrella so the premonition of
rain did not feel very welcoming. The temple closes at 1 o’ clock and does not
open for an hour. We were running out of time. We had started walking faster
now. However it was not easy as the trail had started to become steeper and
rockier. We had decided not to stop at the view point to take pictures as we
should have ample time on the way back. The trek became trickier after the view
point. Now we began to descend. In the end we would have to cross two sets of
winding staircases placed like a gigantic ‘V’ sign on the hilltop. And that’s
why unless you climbed those treacherous stairs at the end; you did NOT visit
Tiger’s Nest. Because that is the hardest part. The stairs were not only narrow
and very steep; each flight of stairs was so high that it was very difficult to
keep one’s focus intact. S, like many others, was having a serious bout of
vertigo. I am not an expert at trekking but I know this much – never look all
the way up whiling climbing, always focus on the next step only. So to me it
was not a few hundred steps ahead but only one at a time. Whoa. There was a
small tea junction in the middle of the staircase there! I seriously couldn’t
believe my eyes. The little shop was bustling with exhausted tourists trying to
get some refreshment. The shop bore a signboard requesting people to wash their
own cups before leaving. Self service takes a different perspective all the way
up there.
Ah the iconic shot |
When we reached at the monastery gate, it
was 12.30 on the clock. I wanted to fly the last few steps away but my body was
totally exhausted and it felt like somebody strapped two large stones to my
thighs. One guy from the sexy Tamil group offered me his walking stick (Ok why
do I always find something dirty in almost everything?). Honestly, I would have
happily obliged if he rather carried me up.
Oh finally |
The temple authority has a large locker
room where the tourists can deposit their belongings. We also had to show our
passports and give details of our whereabouts. After that we finally entered
the monastery. And again another humongous staircase was waiting to welcome (or
mock) our arrival. I thought I would have to crawl up those gigantic stairs to
finally reach the main temple premises. Seriously, people who only go up to the
view point have no right to brag about the Tiger’s Nest hike.
There are eight temples inside the
monastery, dedicated to different gods and monks who had come and meditated in
the caves there. There is a main temple dedicated to Guru Padmsambhava with an
idol of the Guru on the back of the tigress. The abbot told me the main temple
was built facing the cave Guru Rinpoche had meditated in. he also gave me a
handful of potato chips from the offering plate. The Himalayan gods are quite
liberal about their food offering. Time was running out really fast and we did
not have enough time to visit all the temples. Not to mention I was taking too
much time in each temple, prostrating and circumambulating and everything. It
was my desperate attempt to be on the good book of the gods. The monastery
comes with a residential part meant for the monks who stay and study there. We
met some little monks at the balcony. They were busy twittering (not the social
media) while eating fried instant noodles. A little puppy was nesting
comfortably in the middle of them. Obviously I did not forget to cuddle him
before we left.
Now that the most important part was over,
everybody got busy taking pictures. Once you have done something so rigorous it
becomes your permanent bragging right. And we were all busy gathering proofs
that we had but indeed visited the temple, not chickened out and turned back
from the view point. There was a little outlet of spring water at the gate of
the temple bearing the sign ‘Holy water’. I filled my empty juice bottle hoping
to achieve salvation while thanking gods for not dumping the bottle on the way.
Another cave near the entrance. Yeshe Tsogyel herself meditated and practised Vajrakilaya here. And that's the locker room at the right. |
The stairs that literally took our breath away. And this is just half of the whole thing. |
An exhausted yet happy Kuheli. And yes I had put the jacket back on. |
The return journey took much less time
naturally. But now we could fill the soreness of our legs. Gravity bitch was
pulling us towards herself and the pressure mostly felt on the knee joints.
Thankfully none of us fell on our face. The Honey Singh loyalist group had
started much earlier than us (we waited until they left) and the return journey
was much more peaceful with no one praising the effects of ‘chaar bottle vodka’
or some dumb chick’s blue eyes. On the way we met an American man going up
with his guide enquiring whether he would get to eat momo up there. No comment.
It was around 4.30 in the afternoon when we reached the base. I looked back.
The ancient architectural marvel was still nesting on the cliff above like it
was in the morning. It did not look any different at all. I couldn’t believe we
had been up there just a few hours ago. And when I looked carefully up at the
monastery, I am sure I saw a man on the back of a tigress, smiling upon us, in that dwindling glimmer of twilight. And I bet the tigress had wings.
And that was the reward on our last night in the land of the thunder dragon. A stunning view from Paro valley after we got back. |
The end
Comments
Post a Comment