A Tale of Two Cities

In this post I would like to tell about two side trips that I have made in the last two weeks, to Haridwar and Rishikesh. These two cities would appear to be alike in many regards- they are both fairly small cities, they are both situated on the banks of the holy Ganges river and thus both constitute Hindu pilgrimage spots, they are both both full of ashrams where one can study yoga and meditation, they are both completely dry cities (no alcohol is served), they are both quite hot this time of year, and they are both manageable weekend outings from my home base in the mountains, Mussoorie. Given these similarities, I thought it was safe to assume that my experiences in Haridwar and Rishikesh would be similar, but after visiting both of these holy cities I realize that it could hardly be further from the truth.

I visited Rishikesh two weekends ago, leaving on a Saturday morning and coming back for dinner on Sunday. It is about four hours away, reached from Mussoorie by a series of two unpleasant public bus rides. You may have heard of Rishikesh; it was the place where the Beatles holed themselves up in an ashram for two months and wrote the White Album while studying yoga. Nowadays, forty years after John, Paul and George (Ringo didn't like it and immediately went home) hung out there, it is still a very chilled-out and hip place. The streets of Rishikesh are full of white tourists, most of them of them twenty-something Israelis, most of the guys wearing skirts known as lungis. the little shops along the main bazaar sell tye-die shirts, cheap shawls and scarves, colorful bags, sandalwood pieces for carving and flashy jewelry. Nearly every restaurant had a lounge where the floor was padded, the tables were 18 inches off the ground and everyone sat barefoot sipping chai and eating organic food. There were advertisements everywhere for ayurvedic massages, yoga lessons and, of all things, rafting in the Ganges.

The river itself dominates the geography of the city. At Rishikesh, the Ganges is a hundred yards wide, bridged only at two points. From the ends of these two bridges the bazaars sprout, stretching in a long line parallel to the river on each side. There are saddhus all dressed up, imploring all the tourists to give them a rupee coin--but it is generally a hassle-free place, where westerners come to relax.

When I went to Haridwar last weekend, I expected somewhat the same thing. I was greeted by absolute mayhem. While Rishikesh has western tourists on a pilgrimage to smoke marijuana in the same place that the Beatles did, Haridwar has one of the holiest sites in Hindu India, and tens of thousands of Indina pilgrims each day. While both cities are on the Ganges, Haridwar ranks much higher in terms of importance as a religious place. Har-ki-Pairi ghat (see picture above) has a major connection to all three major deities. It is Brahma's abode in this part of the country. It is where Shiva was placated and coronated after defending his daughter's honor, and it is where Vishnu left a footprint to mark the spot where the Ganges officially emerges from the Himalayan mountains. In Haridwar, near Har-ki-Pairi the streets were absolutely packed, even when we arrived at 9 o'clock on Good Friday evening. I could hardly get from the bus stand to the ghat, a straight walk of 3 kilometers down the main road, without being run over by riskshaw, cow, scooter and people alike. I thought there must have been a festival; but no, Haridwar is always like that.

If Rishikesh is a city for tourists, Haridwar is a city for Hindus. The twisting and dark streets of the bazaars sell no western food, only Indian. There are no tie-dyed clothes, only kurta pyjamas, saris and salwar cameez. The shops are full of religious propaganda and periphernalia, not tourist trinkets. Along the far bank of the Ganges is a slum area whos people literally live off the river, depending on it for drinking water, bathing, clothes washing, etc. The city is much more intense, much more Indian.

The differences between the two cities is best explained by my experiences at Ganga Aartis (devotional services to the Ganges on the banks of the river). In Rishikesh, the devotional was a show. There was swaying, clapping, a choir of boys dressed up for the occasion. There were huge numbers of western Hari Krishnas, converts who are, not surprisingly, the most fervent of demonstrators. In Haridwar, the service was solemn, with everyone joining in the chanting in unison. Afterwards, people purchased little boats made of banana leaves, filled with flowers and candles and sent them down the river with their prayers. It was, for me, a much more moving and genuine display. There were no foreigners among the ranks of the devotees.

Although I did like both cities, I have to state my preference for the one that I found to be more genuine. Rishikesh was more relaxed and hipper, but much less Indian--Haridwar struck me as being a powerful testament to the power of the Hindu religion. I emerged from Haridwar sweaty, sunburned and exhausted, but I will never forget the site of thousands of people gathered on Har-ki-Pairi, sending their prayers to Ganga Ma.