Ancient Wisdom & New Ideas: A spiritual journey through Nepal and India — Part 1
The brief was simple; translate the spiritual heart of the Indian sub-continent in pictures. I had 20 days to cover 2,000kms — circling from Kathmandu to Janakpur — with a maximum budget of $15 per day.
It sounds like the most cliché subject to photograph and my photo editor wasn’t too convinced either, but I didn’t budge. This wasn’t about the story, photo book, or exhibition. It was something more personal that I wanted to see for myself.
Tracing the Buddha’s path from his birthplace to the place of his enlightenment was a spiritual discovery; a confluence of ancient wisdom and new ideas
My companions were a trekking bag, two cameras, and a few lenses. The goal was to have a general idea of where I was going but not book anything in advance unless absolutely necessary. I wanted to travel like the locals and live modestly. But $15 a day for meals, hotels, and transport was a luxury in itself.
Kathmandu to Lumbini — The bus pulled into an extremely foggy and cold Lumbini at around 5 am. I had two options for accommodation: to check-into the hotel next to the bus stop or take a 2km trek to the Osho Jetban Spiritual Village where I could stay for cheap as long as I wore a maroon robe. I took the bus stop hotel, the room was $6.
It was the first day of shooting and I was prepared to walk. Lumbini was extremely dusty and in a few minutes, my shoes turned beige from the sand. Luckily, I hitched a lift on a construction tractor to get to the Buddhist stupa at World Peace Pagoda; it was the only place where I had enough peace and quiet to get through 30 pages of Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha. Here, the book resonated with me; call it energy, environment, or excitement, but this same book has been too abstract for me on other days.
From the pagoda, I hailed an electric rickshaw towards the birthplace of Buddha. There are at least 20 monasteries and temples leading up to the birthplace, owned and operated by multiple countries; like spiritual embassies, tree-lined across a central canal. Motorboats ferried tourists from the monasteries to the main attraction, but I walked as I wanted to shoot. I saw two women strolling along the canal, wearing Niqabs and eating ice cream.
Seeing these women, I immediately felt a strange sense of comfort that this place was truly open to everyone, no matter your religion or gender; something that sadly can’t be felt for a majority of places in the world today
Lumbini to Kapilvastu — I slept really well after the long day at Lumbini. The health app on my phone had recorded 21,000 steps. My next destination was Kapilvastu, this was where Buddha’s family kingdom was situated. All that was left of it today was a brick foundation of the original layout and an elephant temple in the compound.
I felt chills the moment I entered the space, there was something very ancient about the whole compound like I’ve stepped into a different era: endless groves of oversized trees, long stretches of farmland, and no sense of commercial activity.
Suddenly, I heard sharp screams from the temple as though a child was being beaten. I decided to intervene. When I arrived at the entrance, the shouting grew louder and the temple’s guardian was casually playing the drum near the stone elephants as if nothing were happening inside.
Inside, I saw a boy with black warts on his face pinned down helplessly by the priest chanting angelic sermons; the child was suspected to be under demonic possession, undergoing an exorcism. I didn’t get any good photographs — it was dark and congested — but I offered to play the drum while the guardian smoked by the bonfire. I ended up playing for around half an hour.
Kapilvastu to Nepalgunj via Thakurdwara- I decided to take an overnight bus to Thakurdwara, a town on the edge of a tiger reserve where Sean, a friend of mine was researching a story on pink river dolphins. This bus journey was long and scary. At 3 am the bus driver came into his own and shot through the half-baked roads, swerving like he was driving a sports car. I oscillated through many states that night: partially conscious head-banging; prepared but indifferent to a potential accident and; a rude awakening of my own privilege finding the journey uncomfortable.
Reaching Thakurdwara at 4 am, I took an auto-rickshaw to reach a small village 10km away. It was the only off-roading experience I ever had in an auto. It had a bell attached to it and it felt like the most obnoxious thing in the middle of a forest at 4 am. Apparently, it kept the tigers away.
Arriving at Mango Tree Lodge where my friend was staying, was like entering a hunter’s cabin. Mud baked walls, heating blankets, queen-sized beds with mosquito nets, and bamboo furniture; I thought I’ll never leave. The lodge was owned by Mr. Rajen, a wildlife guide active in Nepal for more than two decades. He showed us photos of him and Prince Harry on a tiger spotting expedition at Chitwan National Park
We met a few researchers visiting from the Jane Goodall Institute that evening. My friend had teamed up with them for his dolphin research and the whole atmosphere was like a National Geographic expedition. We chatted and drank local liquor and I went to bed fairly early.
Spoiled by the comforts, I didn’t shoot much on the first day. I headed out in the morning to explore the village surrounding Bardia National Park on foot. Local transport was expensive and I’d spent most of my budget on lodging despite splitting with Sean. That was my first big mistake.
My second mistake was swimming in a jungle river alone. The crystal-clear water had a tinge of turquoise blue, it was too inviting to pass. Thankfully, it was off-season for the river crocodiles who had moved upriver. This was a new world for me. I was fully exposed to nature and it would take maybe a few minutes for a big cat to make a meal out of me.
I realized that we may be kings of the concrete jungle, but our only advantage in nature is that animals don’t know what an easy kill we would be
Before I could make my third mistake, I was on my way to Nepalgunj to cross the border to India. It was the first time in my life that I was crossing an international border on a cycle rickshaw.
