AN ASTONISHING, INCREDIBLE KUMBH MELA

Memsahib’s Diary: An astonishing, incredible Kumbh Mela!

By Christine Pemberton on February 24, 2013


This week’s diary comes with a warning.
The memsahib is in full OTT, clichéd, gushing, waxing-absolutely-lyrical-about-India mode. And all thanks to a magical few days at the Kumbh Mela.
To say “I have never seen anything like it” is a truism. But I trust you know what I mean when I repeat – I have never, in 30 years of knowing India – never, ever seen anything remotely like this.
It wasn’t so much the massive crowds, which were still massive despite having been considerably thinned out by the torrential rains and flooding of February 15. It wasn’t even the impressive organisation and policing, to which I shall return later.
It was rather the total absence of any form of aggression or ill temper or quick temper, or any of the other sparks that can so easily ignite a crowd. I have never, ever, anywhere in the world seen such huge numbers of people coexisting in such apparent harmony and good nature.
The river bank is crowded, at all times of the day, and people pour in a never-ending stream, carrying luggage, clothes, food, babies, and they all head instinctively for the sangam. A small space is found amidst the crowd, to deposit luggage on the damp straw that covers the river’s edge. People strip down — in that amazing Indian way in which one can change in public and show not an inch of flesh. No one stares, no one takes any particular notice of anyone else. Thousands upon thousands of people, all cheek by jowl, stripping off, drying off, praying, laughing, snoozing, eating, doing their small family puja, lighting diyas, taking their sacred dip – and all in such an aura of harmony and good nature.
Everyone’s default setting at the Kumbh seems to be ‘smile’.
Let me give you one small example. There we were early one morning, two of us, wandering along the crowded river bank, weaving our way through the thousands of people. A voice suddenly said, “Memsahib, sorry.” I turned to see a man, shivering and wet and wearing only underpants. He was pointing at my shoe. To my horror I saw that I had somehow managed to walk over his pile of dry clothes without realising it, and there were his dry underpants caught on my shoe, and I was coolly walking off with them. I was mortified and apologised profusely but all he did was smile and say, “Koi baht nahi madam” and wander off as good-natured as you please.
Not an iota of irritation with a clumsy foreigner. I am not sure I would have been so magnanimous had roles been reversed.
Photography of people bathing is not allowed. Makes sense. We hadn’t realised this until a policeman came up to me, and asked in the sweetest way possible if I would mind not taking photos of people bathing. I had actually been taking pictures of women drying their saris, and told him so. Good, he smiled, and walked off.
The police were exemplary. Omnipresent and so polite and courteous. Policing was uber-visible, signage was excellent, there were constant loudspeaker announcements about a lost child, or about someone who had got separated from their group, or politely asking people to park properly.
And as for the cleanliness… Litter bins everywhere, that were (oh, rare thing in Delhi) regularly emptied.
There were people armed with what looked like large shrimping nets, constantly scooping out the flowers and diyas and anything else that made its way into the river, and the water looked astonishingly clean.
And so we wandered up and down the river banks, through the camps and through the crowds, marveling at the departing Naga sadhus, watching elephants being given offerings, shopping for trinkets, and eating the delicious (free) food given at many camps. There was a huge noisy busy buzz, coupled with an easygoing friendliness, if that makes any sense at all. Everyone was there with a great sense of purpose, and that purpose was (it would seem) only a happy one. Pray, take that very important holy dip, and then enjoy the mela.
So, India/UP Government/Mela organisers — shabash. Take a bow. Fantastic organisation, great crowd-control, fabulous policing.
Incredible India at her absolute noisy, colourful, moving, incredible best.
(I did warn you at the outset that this was going to be a gushing diary.)
See also
http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2013/03/10/magazine/look-india.html
http://www.washingtonpost.com/world/asia_pacific/could-hindu-festiv...