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| The Beautiful Alakananda |
Along the Alakananda
There may or may not exist a ranking for rivers, but the Alakananda is the most beautiful river that I have seen in my lifetime and I considered myself twice blessed in my destiny to have this encounter. I had recognized its existence from the many tributaries of the mighty Ganga, however, the overpowering imagery of the Ganga blinded me to the beauty and legend of the many waters that make it so. I was on my way to Pipalkoti, about 80 kms short of the famous Badrinath on work and to think that I almost did not make it due to my numerous conflicting commitments makes my heart stop to realise how close I was to missing it. The journey, despite its discomfort on the snaky ghat road for the entire part of the 250 km trip, was made very exciting by the sheer discovery of the beauty and the course of the Alakananda on the way forward and back.
I first set my eyes on the Alakananda at Deva Prayag, where, by merging with the Bhagirathi, both lose identity and become the Ganga. At that time, I only noticed that the Alakananda was blue green in colour and was faster than the muddied and slow Bhagirathi. I did not know then, that I would continue on its course and revel in its beauty, which grows cleaner with proximity to its source. Though I never took my eyes off the Alakananda throughout the entire journey, I will however, record my saga with her only from my return journey. I was sad that time and commitments did not permit me to go to the entire river course, but trace its journey from Pipalkoti till its being is subsumed as the mighty Ganga at Deva Prayag.
My eagerness to know more about Alakananda and the environs was rewarded with the rare presence of an equally keen driver, Mukesh, who not only learns about everything that he sees in his trips, but also uses his brain in analysing what he has seen. Alakananda starts at Vasudhara, about 6 km beyond Badrinath and flows down in her beautiful hue of teal (or that is what I think it is!) – may be sparkling light coloured emeralds would be a better description. In earthy terms, we may term the colour bright greenish blue, flecked with foams of white that is a natural consequence of her dancing gait. She meets and absorbs six rivers in the course of her journey, which lose their identity and their own colour after meeting her, except in the last one, where she herself gets muted into the Ganga. Five of these confluences are termed as the Panch Prayag, while the first one, which is also a Prayag or a confluence, is not given admission into this exclusive panch prayag club, for reasons unknown. Perhaps that has something to do with the Panch Kedar and the Panch Badri (Vaishnavaites and Shaivites trying to do one upmanship?), but the first confluence of the Alakananda is not in this elitist club. This is the Keshav Prayag, between Badrinath and Mana, the last village on the Indian border, where the River Saraswati meets her. Saraswati is supposed to have come out of rocks and many mistake it for the elusive Saraswati, which is supposed to have vanished. Alakananda easily absorbs Saraswati and moves forward.
At Vishnu Prayag –this is the first of the Panch Prayags (beyond Joshimath), Alakananda is joined by Dhauliganga, which itself starts from Tapovan beyond Bhavishya Badri. (An interesting side story – Bhaivishya Badri is the idol that generations in future will worship, as the current one, between the two mountains of Nar and Narayan, will lose its shape after the two mountains collapse due to the lack of compatibility between God and his human soul). Unfortunately, here the Alakananda almost vanishes as it is made to flow through a tunnel for power generation. However, she emerges once again, resplendent in her blue green vestment unsullied and continues its dance down the valley.
It is from the next confluence of Nand Prayag that I am with the Alakananda, watching her every movement. I was so engrossed in its beauty that I failed to be deterred by the uncomfortable journey on a supposed national highway that was ruinous to the back nearly 60% of the way and precarious in many places, made worse by the unprecedented and torrential rains in September this year and which are still to be repaired. Even clearance of rubble and mud is at a slow pace and in one place, there is an active landslide (a la an active volcano, that may catch unlucky ones disastrously. Treacherous though it may sound, all traffic moves on, hoping that they would not be the unlucky ones in the 10 seconds that it takes to cross the danger zone). Had it not been for Alakananda, who was dancing along in the valley below, my thoughts would have ranged from the ineptness of the political and government machinery and the fate induced lethargy of the hill people. I marvel at Alakananda’s resilience in absorbing the tumbling mountains of debris and still skipping along merrily. At Nand Prayag, Alakananda meets Nanda or Nandakini, which flows in from the Kumaon range at Gwaldham). Nandakini is too meek and Alakananda majestically sweeps her up in her arms and propels her forward. Alakananda is none the worse for having been joined by Nandakini.
At Karn Prayag, Alakananda is met by another river from the Kumaon range – a dark and lethargic river called Pindar, which sullies Alakananda’s cleanliness slightly for a distance, before Alakananda shakes herself free of the muck and proceeds again after giving the ritual bath to the Pindar. I wonder again at her continued resilience at absorbing the trash that gets thrown at her time and again and yet she manages to remain pristine in her appearance and also reform those joining her by lending her character.
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| Alakananda after meeting Pindar |
She dances forward again, but alas, she has to slow down and stop in her tracks and collect herself in one large obese heap as she is yet again dammed. Alakananda dammed or damned? There are so many hydro projects on the racy Alakananda and maybe its pace is its undoing. Here she is like a woman trapped into domesticity, growing in depth and slowing down, weighed down by her responsibilities. Fortunately, this does not last long and she sets herself free and starts her dance again, unmindful of the brief traumatic interlude of captivity. Despite discharging her duties for mankind with aplomb, she does not look burdened or jaded and she cruises in an out of tunnels and reservoirs keeping her youthful spirit intact.
It is at Rudra Prayag that the celebration of spirit occurs with her confluence with Mandakini. The two rivers meet as friends long lost and embrace in glee and the scenic beauty of this confluence is the best part of the journey of Alakananda. The crystal clear Mandakini, wherein one can clearly see the rocks on which it flows, and taking on the many hues of all the rocks and thus become multi coloured, meets the joyous and wildly dancing Alakananda in a delightful rushing forward and both travel together thus enjoined in the tight embrace of dear friends. Mandakini, by her very nature, willingly takes on the hue of the Alakananda and the river now literally increases its rhythm and pace.
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| Friends in embrace - Alakananda & Mandakini |
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| The Transparent Mandakini |
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| Alakananda before joining Mandakini |
At Dev Prayag, however, Alakananda meets the sober, mighty and muddy Bhagirathi (swollen after her confluence with Bhilangana at Tehri) and all the resilience of the Alakananda, fails to protect her beautiful sheen of sparkling emeralds. There is a hint of green still retained, but the sparkle and the personality are gone. It is an interesting realisation that, it is the confluences of the Alakananda that are celebrated, while the really holy river Bhagirathi, which originates at Gaumukh, Gangotri, has a mundane existence. Its confluence with Bhilangana does not even have a name and Bhilangana herself is not mentioned much. Among the tributaries and confluences of Ganga, it is Alakananda, Mandakini and Yamuna that are more often regarded and remembered and celebrated.
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| Bhagirathi just before meeting Alakananda |
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| Alakananda coming from behind the hill to meet Bhagirathi and muting into becoming Ganga |
Alakananda merges with Bhagirathi and valiantly tries to preserve her identity but is exhausted. However, she ensures that Bhagirathi does not win either and both lose their basic identity and emerge as a totally different river called the Ganga. The hint of green continues in the Ganga till Rishikesh/Hardwar, but whether it is the bright green of the Alakananda or the dull green sheen of the Bhilangana, I cannot say. However, the blue that defines the character of the Alakananda is gone forever. She becomes heavy, yet speed increases because of the incline, and the speed adds foam that characterises the whiteness of Ganga, as the river henceforth will be identified as. Alakananda, my beautiful river stands transformed into a great personality, revered by millions and the lifeline of two nations, the largest river in India and one of the largest in the world, but for me the spirit of freedom, freshness and exhilaration that she represented is now consumed and lost forever. I now, more than ever, want to retrace her footsteps once again and this time from the place of her birth, so that I may understand her and love her even more – I have never fallen in love with a river before. I am left with the thought that this is one river that quit in its prime so that we may be saved from the pain of seeing her in her old age – sullied, misused, abused and unclean as the end always is for all rivers.
