11th June 2010: Yesterday night, we plan for the Amritsar Tour. And today we are going for the same. I think this is the life of Student (Student! Yes till now I am student and remain forever) .We (Anishu, Rakesh, Akhilesh )decided to visit Golden Temple, Durgiana Mandir Jaliyanwala Bag and The Wagah Border. Amritsar is 450 km from Delhi and further Wagah Border is 29km from Amritsar. We started at 7:00pm from our Room and reached Amritsar at 07:00am. Due to Indian railway our journey got delayed by 30 min.
At first glance, Amritsar is just another Indian town - busy and enterprising, yet charmingly native and, well...itself! Just that one found nothing to suggest that two of the best known landmarks of modern day India lay hidden somewhere nearby.
At 7:30am, We are near the one of the most beautiful place ie. Golden Temple. The surreal serenity of the Gurudwara's premises, with the dull gold reflecting in the still waters of the lake, combined with the soothing chants - all this makes for an experience you would never want to miss, and something that will find a place in your heart, irrespective of your communal leanings, or even the lack of any. What’s next, We entered the Golden Temple complex, with our heads covered, dipped our weary feet in the placid waters of the lake, walked around the complex passing countless peaceful faces and taking in the ambience and the images both in our minds and on camera. But nothing could beat the experience of being inside Harmandir Sahib. When deep faith and sheer melody come together, it comes alive in the form of Shabad Kirtan that is sung from the heart by some of the best musicians in the country. The priests sitting around the Guru Granth Sahib, the music wafting and resonating all around the complex (actually all over the country, thanks to the TV and radio channels that telecast it live each day!) and the thousands of worshippers who quietly pause and move on...all that has to make the Golden Temple the ultimate pilgrimage one could hope to go on. Outside, we saw people of all walks of life offering their services in whatever way they could...from doing kar seva at the langars to polishing the golden railings - nothing could give them greater joy. It doesn't matter here what walk of life you are from - everyone does everything in the hallowed atmosphere of these kitchens, from cooking to serving to washing plates. We rounded off the visit with the customary souvenir shopping. From mementos to music, you just have to carry a piece (or should it be peace?!) of the Golden Temple
We walked out of the Golden Temple complex straight into the past. In a modest street filled with countless little shops, it is hard to miss the entrance to one of India's best identified and saddest historical landmarks. If not for the signpost over the gate of the Jallianwala Bagh, you could all but walk past it. But one look at that narrow path that leads one to a wide expanse of greenery beyond, and you know this is what you have read about and imagined what hundreds of men, women and children wished was wider and not blocked by General Dyer and his armed battalion that fateful day in April, 1919.
After visiting this historical place, we went for Durgiana Temple, a temple of Ma Durga, Vishnu & Ma Laxmi. The architect of this temple is same as that of Golden Temple. Near to that was Purana Hanuman Mandir- A place well know for Luv Kush & Hanuman God. We then visited to nearby market to purchase some Punjabi famous items (including the Punjabi Kuria) we reached back at the hotel for lunch and checking out for the last leg of our trip, the Wagah Border.
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The taxi was to reach at 3.30 to pick us up and take us to as near Pakistan as we could hope to get - without having to approach either Governments! 28 kilometers from Amritsar, exactly half-way from Lahore as well, lies the Wagah Border, the only legal crossing between India and Pakistan. The village of Wagah itself is in Pakistan and you actually only reach the last Indian village, Atari. There is, obviously, strong army presence here, besides the customs department which has to be geared up to perform its duties, for there is a fair amount of traffic (both by road and rail) both ways. The drive to Atari gives you a perspective on the greenery and fertility of Punjab's famous farmlands. You also pass the magnificent Khalsa College on your right (you'd even mistake this to be a luxury resort hotel!), and further up, a signpost on your left that indicates the way to the last railway station in India. This is where the much-hyped Samjhauta express begins its short, trans-national ride transporting hundreds of Indians and Pakistanis across the border, and back to an era that evokes both pain and nostalgia. After a milestone that tells you that Lahore is just 23 km away, your cab turns right into a parking lot. The journey from here is on foot - not more than a few hundred metres. We walked up to the complex and stood amidst several countrymen waiting for the gates to open. Not knowing what to expect, we all sprinted in when the barricade was flung open - the milling crowd behind us. We waited for about half an hour outside a tall gate with the words "Swarn Jayanthi Dwar" inscribed on it. Around us were open fields that could have been India or Pakistan, and we noticed these electrified fences running amok (we were told that they were capable of discharging upto 66,000 volts of current!). Much better that the aspiring border-crosser makes a samjhauta and chooses to take the express! Or a bus... Presently, there was a commotion and we saw that a gate on the right had opened and our fellow tourists had begun to rush in, armed guards supervising the progress all along. We walked into what appeared to be a stadium...actually two, for we were directed to sit towards the right even as we saw some people sitting on the left. And sure enough, we saw a wall with a gate dividing us and them, and sure enough, we saw the words "Welcome to Pakistan" etched on it. While reaching the ceremony early does give one the advantage of a vantage viewpoint, the June sun seemed to be intolerant of the farce of such a ceremony and punished the gathering no end. And as the show only begins by sundown, the wait was traumatic. We passed time by listening half-heartedly to the patriotic Bollywood numbers being belted out by the Indian Army and the musical counter attack by the other side. The atmosphere seemed to be electric, more with a pseudo and make believe effect of forced patriotism. At least on that day, the Indian side of the crowd seemed more boisterous, if not unruly, than the neighbours, who not only were clearly outnumbered but also were maintaining a lower profile. There is no escaping from the realities of borders, partition and division even in those innocuous surroundings - how else could one explain the fact that men and women are made to sit in separate galleries, and I am not even talking about the Pakistan side, mind you. Anyway, after a mock demonstration of relay running with the Indian flag to the Pakistan side, conducted by an over-enthusiastic cheerleader and a few Indian youths, the professionals took over. (the crowd told not to demean/belittle the other side). Immaculately dressed and armed, the BSF jawans and their counterparts performed drills which were more comic than military. With the lights on, both flags fluttering gently in the breeze, and the swarming crowds cheering on their respective soldiers, the scene was a photographer's delight. Once the gate was thrown open, the liveried representatives of each country enacted a virtual dance-drama. Even as the BSF jawan elegantly marched up to the Pakistani rangers, the latter stomped their feet taking elaborate steps, both parties intimidating each other in mock and jovial fashion. And the crowd got delirious - as though they were witnessing Sachin facing a charging Akhtar! Incidentally, the body language of both sides has been toned down from a more belligerent display till some time ago - maybe, a sign of the concerted efforts by both nations to discover more peaceful times ahead... The show came to a close with the lowering, unfurling and carrying of the flags back - it could as well have been the army variant of the Palki that we witnessed in the morning! Before long, it was to be the 28 km drive back to Amritsar for the Indians and Lahore for the folks from across the border. One look at the barbed wire and the green fields that extended for miles in all directions, it was difficult to imagine how unimportant the area must have been some seventy years ago, before it had both glory and pain thrust upon it by events that led to a nation divided. This was exactly where thousands ran, walked, dragged themselves both ways during those painful days of the partition - when old homes and neighbours had to be abandoned, new lives and identities were an unknown struggle ahead. Several died, several were raped and several also survived. The drama is still alive in the history books, some beautifully written narratives and, most importantly, in the heart of all those who lived through those difficult times. As for us, we can only pause and try to remember the horror of those days. The drive back was spent in reflection on the events of the day. Just a day, and we had done so much - visited a beautiful Gurudwara, strolled through a day in history, and reached within embracing distance of our neighbours across the border. The drive back was spent in reflection on the events of the day. Just a day, and we had done so much - visited a beautiful Gurudwara, strolled through a day in history, and reached within embracing distance of our neighbours across the border. If you wish, you can extend your journey to visit one beautiful tourist place Dalhousie.
