Through the heartland of India- Episode- 2 - Kashi at Dawn: A Walk Through the Lanes of Light and History

 

Through the heartland of  India- Episode- 2 -

Kashi at Dawn: A Walk Through the Lanes of Light and History

We woke up at 3:30 in the morning. By 4:00 a.m., we set out to see the Ganges. Many roads were blocked. Construction of the ropeway and roadworks was underway, and security had tightened due to the Mauritian Prime Minister’s scheduled visit to the Vishwanath Temple at 9 a.m. Policemen stood guard at every junction. After circling around for some time, Rajesh finally found a place to park the car.

In the dim morning light, we saw a man burning pieces of coal, blowing on them gently to keep the fire alive. A small teapot sat above the embers. The tea he served came in tiny cups—flavourful, hot, and surprisingly refreshing. The price was ten rupees. The tea seller, Rajan, struck up a conversation. He had retired from the police force and chose to run a tea stall because it gave him independence. We wished him well and continued on foot.

After walking for a while, we reached Sushil Babu’s shop. Following his suggestion, Rajesh guided us through the narrow gallies towards Manikarnika Ghat. The lanes were quiet; only a few tea shops were opening their shutters. Most buildings were old, two-storied structures, with commerce on the ground floor and living spaces above. No large vehicles ever pass through these lanes.

The walk ended abruptly. The Ganga had spilled into the lanes leading to the riverbank. A cloudburst in Uttarakhand had sent torrents of water racing down to Kashi, overflowing the ghats. Boating was suspended. Small boats were tied to the banks. The bathing platforms and cremation sheds had been swept away. The river ran muddy and fierce. From the gallies, where water stagnated, the Ganga wasn’t even visible.

To get a clear view, we had to pay a thousand rupees to travel five hundred meters inland in a small boat. The amount must have been a welcome relief to the boatmen who had lost all work. They urged us to take a dip in the muddy water, but we declined.

Bodies were being cremated on a raised cement platform. The heat of the firewood was intense, yet the relatives waited calmly for the cremation to finish before taking a dip in the river. Strangely, there was no smell of burning flesh. We took photographs of the cremations and the roaring river. Only the crown of a nearby riverside temple was visible—the rest submerged. Thousands perform daily rituals around it when the water is at normal levels.

It was barely 5 a.m., still dark. We got back into the boat, returned to the gally, and walked again to Sushil’s shop.

Sushil, polite as always, immediately began assembling puja items based on our group size. Most visitors buy offerings for Kashi Vishwanath and Annapurna. He told us we could offer leaves and flowers at the temple and carry back the sweets. The baskets were priced at ₹350  for small basket, ₹500  for medium and ₹750  for the large one. Although I said we did not intend to perform a puja, he behaved as though it was compulsory. Finally, we bought two baskets for ₹700.

We left our bags and mobile phones at his shop—only puja items and purses were allowed inside the temple. Sushil summoned an elderly man to take us as a guide. His name was Jawaharlal Pandey. Thin-bodied but sharp-faced, he walked with a stick—not for support, but to guard against dogs and monkeys, which frequently snatch puja items. Seventy-five years old, yet fast. We had to quicken our steps to keep up.

We walked through gallies filled with cattle dung, stray dogs, sleeping people, and accumulated dirt. Finally, we reached the temple. There were security checks, but the process moved quickly.

Into the Sacred Geography of Kashi

The Vishwanath Temple stands on the western bank of the Ganges. It is one of the twelve sacred Jyotirlingas. Ancient Kashi, densely populated for centuries, was called the City of Light. Devotees believe that dying in Kashi or worshipping the Jyotirlinga grants liberation from rebirth.

The Kashikhanda of the Skanda Purana gives Kashi several names: Rudravasa, Avimukta, Anandakanana, Mahashmashana. According to legend, Shiva holds Kashi aloft on his trident—the three tines representing Kashi’s three regions:

Omkara Khanda is the Rajghat in the north

Vishweshwara Khanda ,the central plateau and Kedar Khanda,  the south

The temple has been rebuilt on the highest central plateau. The Kashikhanda mentions one thousand and ninty nine  temples in the city at the time of its writing—five hundred and thirteen  dedicated to Shiva alone. The main temple had five mandapams: the Garbhagriha, Jnanamandapam on the east, Shringaramandapam on the west, Aishwaryamandapam on north , and Muktimandapam on the south.

Adi Shankaracharya revered Kashi as the supreme spiritual centre. In his Kashi Panchakam, he compared Kashi to the human body.

The gold-plated temple towers gleamed in the early morning light. The surroundings were astonishingly clean—no litter or plastic. A wide open plaza now connects the temple directly to the Ganga. The entire area has been paved with marble and maintained meticulously.

Entry through the special queue cost rupees three hundred  per person, we were in the same queue ,but  did not paid that time. Pandey’s familiarity with the guards probably ensured smooth access. Monkeys were snatching puja items from waiting devotees, looking quite triumphant.

After visiting the Vishwanath and Annapurna temples, Pandey led us to a covered well inside the complex. Locals believe that priests hid the original idol in this well before Aurangzeb destroyed the temple. Whether historically accurate or not, the belief persists. When we offered a hundred rupees to the priest sitting nearby, he refused. He said he did not accept donations below five hundred—a sign of how inflation has even reached sacred rituals.

A Temple Rewritten Across Centuries

Historical accounts detail how the Vishwanath Temple was built, destroyed, and rebuilt multiple times:

• First attack by Ahmad Niyaltigin was happened on 1034 CE

• Major destruction under Qutb-ud-din Aibak  was  on 1194 CE

• Mosque built by Razia Sultana  on 1236–1240 CE

• Further destruction under Mahmud Shah Sharki in 1440–1457

• Sikandar Lodi’s attack  happened in 1494

• Reconstruction by Narayana Bhatta with support from Raja Todarmal was in 1585

• Renovation by Veer Singh Deo  is by 1605–1627

• Partial demolition happened under Shah Jahan

• Complete demolition and mosque construction was done  by Aurangzeb in 1669

Later contributions include:

• Rani Ahilyabai Holkar  reconstructed the temple and the work was in completed 25 August 1777

• Gold plating was done  by Maharaja Ranjit Singh and Maharani Datar Kaur  using one ton of gold in 1841 and  Bhonsle Snanghat was also built 

• Seven foot high Nandi stone sculpture was  donated by the Rana of Nepal 

In 2019, Prime Minister Narendra Modi laid the foundation of the Kashi Vishwanath Corridor. Built on 50,000 sq. meters. It required relocating 1,400 houses and establishments. The corridor opened on 13 December 2021. The sanctum’s gold plating  using 60 kg gold  was completed in February 2022.

Kashi, Banaras, Varanasi: The Names of a Living City

The ancient name Kashi comes from Kāṣa  means radiance.

The name Varanasi was  emerged from the rivers Varuna ,north to the city  and Asi ,south to the city.

Banaras is  rooted in Pali and Hindustani, gained currency during the Mughal and British eras.

Even today, institutions across the city use all three names. One of the railway stations is still called Banaras.

The city’s economy revolves around the Vishwanath Temple and the Ganges. Banaras silk is woven largely by the Muslim Momin Ansari community, while the yarn comes from Hindu suppliers. The fabric blends Persian artistry with Hindu motifs—a centuries-old aesthetic harmony.

Common people—Hindus and Muslims alike—only want peace. Pandey told us that the proximity of the Gyanvapi Mosque and the Vishwanath Temple often causes inconvenience. “Keeping fire and cotton in the same room,” Pandey said, “is dangerous.”

He also noted that even if local Muslims agreed to relocate the mosque peacefully, external political forces would prevent it. There are multiple ongoing cases—local, High Court, and Supreme Court—along with ASI studies. Anyone visiting the area understands that consensus, not litigation, is likely the only lasting solution.

A City That Survives Through Harmony

We paid Pandey  rupees 2,500, including fee for the special queue . We knew Sushil would take a sizeable share. From there, we walked to another ghat. Thousands were performing pitru tharpanam. The river was still overflowing.

A cycle rickshaw driver named Majnu, who had come from Bihar to earn a livelihood, offered to take us from the Ganga bank to St. Thomas Church. We paid him  rupees 300. He smiled widely, revealing teeth blackened by gutka, then turned away happily. That 300 was enough for him for the entire day.

That was Majnu’s happiness index. 

Through the heartland of India---Episode 1- Varanasi

 

Through the heartland of India

Episode 1- Varanasi

By V. R. Ajith Kumar

Although I had spent eleven long years in Delhi, I had never found the time to visit Varanasi or Prayagraj—two cities that had lived only in my imagination through books, stories, and the news. This September, the opportunity finally arrived. Joining me were Hari and Radhakrishnan, friends from the Public Relations Department, and my childhood companion Jayachandran. Hari came from Madurai, while Jayachandran and Radhakrishnan travelled from Kollam to Chennai, where our journey began on the morning of September 11.

A Smooth Start: Chennai to Varanasi

We flew from Chennai to Hyderabad on Air India Express and spent two hours in transit before boarding the connecting flight to Varanasi. Since our tickets were booked well in advance, the round-trip fare came to just ₹10,500 per person—remarkably economical for such a long journey.

Our tour and accommodation were arranged by Mugini Trails, Chennai, managed by Muraleedharan Nair. At the Lal Bahadur Shastri International Airport, our driver Rajesh awaited us with warmth and a shawl. The weather displayed a pleasant 33°C, and a statue of Lal Bahadur Shastri set against a beautifully maintained garden greeted visitors.

Interestingly, more than forty passengers on our flight were from Palakkad, travelling via the Kochi–Hyderabad–Varanasi route, although the aircraft still had many empty seats. Varanasi, however, was brimming with activity for another reason entirely: Mauritian Prime Minister Naveen Chandra Rangoolam, Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi, and Uttar Pradesh Chief Minister Yogi Adityanath were all in the city that day. Traffic restrictions had cast their influence across the city.

A Glimpse Into History Through a Modern Lens

Naveen Chandra Rangoolam carries a fascinating legacy. His grandfather, Mohit Rangoolam, migrated from Bihar’s Bhojpur district in 1896 as an indentured labourer to Mauritius aboard the ship Hindustan. His father, Sir Seewoosagur Rangoolam, became the first Prime Minister of independent Mauritius. Naveen Chandra, now Prime Minister himself, often describes India as his extended family. During his visit from September 9 to 16, 2025, he travelled to Varanasi, Ayodhya, and Tirupati. Remarkably, the Bhojpuri language still thrives among the descendants of Bihari migrants in Mauritius.

Settling In: First Impressions of Varanasi

Lunch awaited us at Saffron & Spices in the Cantonment area—a bustling restaurant where we relished a hearty thali meal before checking into our hotel, The Elegant. True to its name, the hotel offered clean rooms and a good in-house restaurant. Our tour package included breakfast and dinner at all accommodations.

We initially planned to witness the famous Ganga Aarti in the evening. But Rajesh informed us that the swelling Ganges had swallowed the ghats in recent days, forcing a temporary suspension of the ritual.

In the evening, we strolled along the road near our hotel. Banaras Locomotive Works stood nearby, and the Mauritian Prime Minister’s visit there had caused complete traffic closure. We joined the crowd lining the streets to watch the VIP convoy pass by. Once the restrictions were lifted, the roads filled rapidly with vehicles and people, and we set off for temple visits.

In the Labyrinth of Varanasi

Rajesh drove through the impossibly narrow and busy lanes with astonishing ease. Our first stop was the modern Vishwanath Temple located within the Banaras Hindu University (BHU) campus. A serene garden, fountains, and the quiet presence of students added to its peaceful charm.

Pandit Madan Mohan Malaviya, the visionary founder of BHU, began construction of this temple in 1931 with support from the Birla family. Completed in 1966, the white-marble temple rises 250 feet high. Its architecture marries the traditional Nagara style with modern engineering. The ground floor enshrines Lord Shiva; the first floor houses Lakshmi Narayan and Goddess Durga. Verses from the Bhagavad Gita, Vedas, and Upanishads are etched into the walls. Importantly, Malaviya opened the temple to people of all religions and castes—a gesture that reflected the inclusive spirit of Hinduism. Unlike the compact, crowded surroundings of the original Kashi Vishwanath Temple, the BHU campus offers a vast expanse of greenery and tranquillity.

From BHU, we headed to the historic Sankatmochan Hanuman Temple, founded in the 16th century by poet-saint Goswami Tulsidas, who composed the Ramcharitmanas and Hanuman Chalisa. Devotees arrive here seeking relief from adversities and planetary doshas. Offerings include tulsi leaves and gram-flour laddus, sold abundantly in front of the temple. Tuesdays and Saturdays draw the largest crowds.

Nearby stands the Durga Temple, built in the 18th century by the Bengali queen Bhabani of Natore. Its striking red façade and multi-tiered tower make it architecturally distinct. The Tridev Mandir, also in the vicinity, houses idols of Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva, Durga, and Hanuman and is adorned with carvings, murals, and intricate decorations.

Another significant stop was the Tulsi Manas Mandir, constructed in 1964 by the Surekha family of Howrah. The entire structure, made of white stone, bears engravings of verses from the Ramcharitmanas. Inside, the idols of Rama, Sita, Lakshmana, and Hanuman radiate a serene grace. Policemen in uniform could be seen offering prayers—a reminder that every individual carries personal struggles, regardless of duty or position.

We returned to the hotel for a simple dinner of chapati, curry, and rice—bringing to close an eventful and fulfilling first day in Varanasi.(To be contd---)

 

Thirteen Years, 527 Pages—and Still No Final Justice

 

People for Better Society (PEBS) -campaign for reform Indian judiciary

#ReformIndianJudiciary #JusticeDelayedIsJusticeDenied

Thirteen Years, 527 Pages—and Still No Final Justice

The Bombay High Court has sentenced former Tehelka magazine editor Tarun Tejpal to ten years of rigorous imprisonment in a case relating to the alleged sexual assault of a colleague. The court has also directed that the woman be paid compensation of ₹10 lakh.

The incident took place in 2013 during the Think Fest organised by Tehelka in Goa. The allegation was that Tejpal sexually assaulted his colleague in a lift. After the matter became public, Tejpal resigned as editor of Tehelka on November 20, 2013. He surrendered on November 30 without seeking anticipatory bail. The charge sheet was filed in February 2014, and the Supreme Court granted him bail on July 1, 2014.

The trial began in September 2017. On May 21, 2021, the Sessions Court acquitted Tejpal, holding in a 527-page judgment that the prosecution had failed to prove the case. The matter subsequently reached the Bombay High Court, which has now reversed that outcome and sentenced him on August 6, 2026.

The next stage will be the Supreme Court. What the final outcome there will be, of course, remains unknown.

But there is another question that deserves attention: Can a justice system that takes thirteen years to reach this stage really be called an effective system of justice?

The allegation concerned an incident that supposedly took place inside an elevator. Yet it has taken thirteen years for the judicial process to reach the present stage. The judgment of the trial court alone runs to 527 pages. And even now, the case is not over.

Meanwhile, both the accused and the survivor have had to spend a substantial part of their lives dealing with the case, along with considerable amounts of money, time and emotional energy.

This raises a larger question about the functioning of our justice system. A criminal justice system must certainly provide every accused person with a fair trial and protect the rights of the survivor. There can be no compromise on either principle. But justice must also be timely. Justice delayed is not merely an administrative failure; prolonged litigation can itself become a form of suffering.

One may argue that a complicated case requires time, that evidence must be examined carefully, and that appeals are an essential part of the judicial process. All of that is true. Yet there must also be a point at which we ask whether the procedures intended to ensure justice have become so prolonged and complicated that they themselves stand in the way of justice.

In a monarchy, where the ruler could pronounce a decision immediately, a case might theoretically be settled in a day—but without the safeguards, fairness and accountability that a modern justice system is expected to provide. Democracy and the rule of law necessarily require due process. The challenge is to make that process both fair and reasonably swift.

The purpose of courts is not merely to produce judgments. It is to deliver justice.

When a case continues for thirteen years, produces hundreds of pages of judgments, passes through several levels of the judicial system, and still has no final conclusion, it is legitimate for society to ask whether something fundamental is wrong with the system.

A justice system should not resemble a patient kept alive indefinitely in a prolonged vegetative state. Justice must be alive, accessible and timely.

Thirteen years. 527 pages. And the case is still not over.

Is this justice?

"Reforming the judiciary is not weakening the judiciary. It is strengthening justice."

#ReformIndianJudiciary
#JusticeDelayed
#JusticeForAll
#JudicialReform
#Muthanga
#TribalRights
#PEBS
#BetterSociety

 

Simple and Complex – Episode 4 Palakkad’s Simplicity: Small Things, Quiet Lives

 

Simple and Complex – Episode 4

Palakkad’s Simplicity: Small Things, Quiet Lives

This time, I was travelling to Palakkad to attend the wedding of Haridas’s daughter. Haridas had worked with me at Kerala House in Delhi. I had booked a room at Hotel Nalanda Inn.

The bus I boarded passed Nalanda and stopped a little further ahead. I assumed there might be some traffic-related reason for the delay. When I looked out, I saw the conductor get down and walk towards a public water tap to collect water.

I slowly got down from the bus, walked back and reached the hotel. There were two hotels on opposite sides of the road—Nalanda Inn and Nalanda Rich. My room was in Nalanda Rich. After checking in, I had lunch at the hotel restaurant and rested for a while.

By around four in the afternoon, I went out for a walk.

Palakkad Fort came into view. I had visited the fort several times before. Adjacent to it is Vadika Garden, for which I bought a ticket for ₹25. It is a pleasant place to spend some time, especially with children. I walked around the garden for a while and then came out.

It was around 4:45 p.m. The fort closes at 5:30. I spent some time around its surroundings and continued walking. On the right, I saw the martyrs’ memorial and the park opposite the fort.

It was the second half of December, and people were busy with Christmas and New Year shopping. Since I had nothing particular to buy, my only intention was to wander around and observe the town.

There was a road leading towards Thrissur and another towards Olavakkode and Kozhikode. I took the Kozhikode road and eventually reached the town bus stand. After making enquiries, I learned that I could take a Cherpulassery bus from the municipal bus stand and get down at Peringode, where the wedding was to be held.

I decided to take that route the next morning.

The Chirava

The walk also reminded me of a call I had received the previous day from my friend Hari in Madurai. He had asked me to see whether I could buy a chirava—a handy traditional device used for grinding coconut on a flat surface.

During our recent North-East India trip, our host in Guwahati was also a Hari. It was at his house that my friend Hari had seen this device. He was fascinated by it and had been looking for one ever since.

The new version of the chirava is manufactured in Coimbatore. Hari had therefore asked me to look for one in Coimbatore.

I thought it might actually be easier to find one in Kerala than in Coimbatore. Coconut is an essential ingredient in Kerala cooking, and such devices are therefore more likely to be sold here. The manufacturers in Coimbatore, I have noticed, are remarkably inventive. Give them an idea, and they will often create a device to suit it. That is how this new form of chirava seems to have evolved.

My guess proved correct.

I saw a chirava displayed in front of a shop and bought two—one painted green and another in plain steel. Back at the hotel, I sent a photograph to Hari.

His response was immediate: he did not want the painted one!

So I agreed to give him the steel one.

That night, Hari got down at Palakkad Town Railway Station while travelling towards Olavakkode. He had also come to attend the wedding. He came straight to the hotel. We had dinner together and then, after collecting the steel chirava, he went to the accommodation arranged for him near Olavakkode Railway Station.

A Quiet Morning

The next morning, I took an auto to the municipal bus stand and boarded a bus to Cherpulassery. Hari joined me from Olavakkode station.

We reached the wedding venue quite early. We had idlis from a small tea shop nearby. The shop was run by a couple.

What fascinated us was the rhythm of their work.

They prepared and served poori, idli, dosa and chapati with remarkable precision and without the slightest appearance of hurry. Everything seemed to happen naturally, one after another.

When I complimented them on their work, the shop owner explained that their regular employee had not turned up that day. Yet they had simply carried on with their business without informing customers about the shortage or allowing it to disturb their work.

There was something deeply reassuring about that attitude.

The Wedding Venue

From there, we walked to the Cloud Five Convention Centre. Women were busy cleaning and preparing the premises.

Some of Haridas’s relatives had already arrived. We noticed a temple nearby, slightly away from the main road, and decided to visit it.

It was the Saariri Durga Temple. There was a priest and two women there. It was a quiet temple, with only a few people attending the daily puja.

I did not enter because, according to the local custom, I would have had to remove my shirt. Hari went inside and offered a puja.

When we returned, we met the manager of the wedding hall. He told us that he was responsible for the centre around the clock.

The convention centre is owned by three people whose main business is tyre trading. The centre itself has ample parking, a large hall that can accommodate around 2,000 people, a good stage and a spacious dining hall. There is also accommodation behind the main building.

Sreedevan, who had worked with us at Kerala House in Delhi, and his wife Subha were staying there. Sivadasan and his wife had arrived from Pathanamthitta. They had left at around 2 a.m. by car and reached Palakkad.

As we exchanged news and stories, Haridas and Chandrika arrived.

Friends from Thiruvananthapuram and elsewhere also joined us. Gopan, Shaji, Anila, Krishnachandran, Surendran, Ramakrishnan, Raji, Sarasamma, Rajani, Govindaraj, A.R. Raju, Dayakumar, Sreejith, Mohanan, Shailesh and many others came.

The gathering itself became a celebration.

There was affection, old friendship, laughter and countless memories being shared. Everyone seemed genuinely happy to meet one another again.

Meanwhile, the wedding ceremonies began with the reception of the groom and the wedding rituals.

The arrangements were impressive. A large stage had been prepared, and photographers had been provided with facilities to take good photographs from below.

But there was one amusing contradiction.

The majority of the guests could hardly see the wedding itself!

Relatives and photographers had formed a virtual human wall around the couple.

The feast was perhaps not quite as elaborate as those traditionally served in South Kerala, but the women who prepared it had done an excellent job. The food was simple, tasty and well prepared.

Five Cloud and the Women Behind It

What interested me most, however, was something beyond the wedding itself.

Five Cloud is not merely a convention centre. It is also an initiative that provides women in the area with opportunities to earn a livelihood.

The ventures may be small, but their significance is not.

Such small enterprises can create employment, generate income and strengthen the local economy—particularly by bringing more women into economic activity.

That, perhaps, is another form of simplicity that we often overlook.

A small tea shop run by a couple.
A woman earning through a small enterprise.
A conductor stopping to collect drinking water from a public tap.
Friends travelling long distances simply to attend a wedding.
An old-fashioned chirava bringing two friends together.

None of these things appears extraordinary.

Yet, when we pause and look closely, they tell us something important about life.

Perhaps simplicity is not the absence of complexity.

It is the ability to live with what is necessary, do what has to be done, and find happiness in ordinary things.

That was what Palakkad seemed to tell me this time.

 

Simple but Complex – Episode - 4 From grief to glory: The inspiring journey of Dr.Priya – Concluding Part

Simple but Complex – Episode  - 4

From grief to glory: The inspiring journey of Dr.Priya – Concluding Part

In 2024, she reached Everest Base Camp, one of the world's most renowned trekking destinations. Everest Base Camp is situated at an altitude of 5,364 metres in Nepal's Khumbu region. From there, she went on to climb Lobuche East, a 6,119-metre peak. The journey to Lobuche East was far more demanding than the trek to the base camp. It required the use of crampons, harnesses, ropes, and ice axes.

In the autumn of 2025, Priya successfully climbed the 8,163-metre Manaslu, the eighth-highest mountain in the world. Located in Nepal's Mansiri Himal range, Manaslu is widely known as the "Killer Mountain" because of its unpredictable weather and constant risk of avalanches. These challenging expeditions became the perfect preparation for her ultimate goal—Mount Everest. Within seven months of climbing Manaslu, she stood on the summit of the world's highest mountain.

Although it may sound like a straightforward achievement, the effort behind it was anything but easy. Chennai offers virtually no facilities for mountaineering training. With no hills or mountains and a landscape barely six metres above sea level, preparing for high-altitude climbing while balancing professional responsibilities was an enormous challenge. Priya firmly believed that where there is a will, there is a way.

A fitness enthusiast who has always led a healthy lifestyle, she drew strength from her passion, determination, and unwavering focus on her goal. Her trainer, Dr. Sugapradeep, a combat fitness trainer and conditioning specialist, designed a structured six-month training programme that she followed with complete discipline over four years. Her training began by repeatedly climbing the stairs of her house, running on inclined boards, and using hospital ramps. Marina Beach and the city's roads also became part of her unconventional training ground.

Reaching the summit of one's greatest ambition is undoubtedly a triumph. Yet, for Priya, the journey to Everest was also a close encounter with death. She had to endure countless physical challenges and even greater mental and emotional struggles. The greatest obstacle was the uncertainty of the weather.

After reaching Everest Base Camp on 17 April, she was forced to wait for forty-five long days because of unfavourable weather conditions. The prolonged uncertainty caused immense mental stress and moments of deep despair. At high altitudes, when oxygen levels drop, climbers can become confused or even delirious. Combined with the anxiety of an uncertain future, the psychological burden becomes overwhelming.

During those difficult days, many questions repeatedly surfaced in her mind. Although she knew the answer, she often wondered why a doctor enjoying a fulfilling profession and a comfortable life had chosen to undergo such hardship. She questioned why she had come there at all, and the thought of returning home became increasingly strong. Throughout this emotional struggle, it was the encouragement of her fellow climbers and her love for music that kept her spirits alive.

The expedition had to move between camps several times. Even after reaching higher camps, the team was repeatedly forced to retreat because of worsening weather. Strong winds frequently tore away tents, making life in the camps even more difficult.

One of the most dangerous sections of the climb was the Khumbu Icefall, located at an altitude of about 5,486 metres. It was there that Priya narrowly escaped with minor injuries when avalanches crashed down from above. Her survival was largely due to the lightning-fast response of her guide, Anurup Gurung, who was making his seventh ascent of Everest. Philosophy may tell us that life extends beyond every avalanche and every setback, but in those terrifying moments, survival itself became the only reality.

The members of the expedition kept encouraging one another, saying, "We have come this far; let us give our very best to reach the summit." Priya was part of the Elite Exped team led by the legendary mountaineer Nirmal Purja.

Priya believes that age should never become a barrier to dreaming or achieving one's goals. When asked about her next destination, she smiles and says that her heart is still with Everest and that she longs to return there once again. According to her, growing older also means becoming wiser, more experienced, and more determined.

Those who seek a simple life should certainly continue to do so. But those who find meaning in adventure may discover fresh inspiration in Priya's remarkable journey. Her story reminds us that the greatest mountains are first conquered in the mind, long before they are climbed in the real world.( Concluded)

 

 

 

Simple but complex - Episode -4 -- Priya on the peak -Part 2

 

ലളിതവും ഒപ്പം സങ്കീർണ്ണവും- എപ്പിസോഡ് -4

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കൊടുമുടി മുകളിൽ പ്രിയ – ഭാഗം -2

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2024ലാണ് ലോകത്തിലെ ഏറ്റവും പ്രശസ്തമായ ട്രെക്കിംഗ് കേന്ദ്രങ്ങളിലൊന്നായ എവറസ്റ്റ് ബേസ് ക്യാമ്പിലെത്തിയത്.നേപ്പാളിലെ ഖുംബു മേഖലയിൽ 5364 മീറ്റർ ഉയരത്തിലാണ് എവറസ്റ്റ് ബേസ് ക്യാമ്പ്.അവിടെനിന്നും 6119 മീറ്റർ ഉയരമുള്ള ലോബുചെ ഈസ്റ്റ് കൊടുമുടിയിലേക്കും ട്രക്ക് ചെയ്തു.ബേസ് ക്യാമ്പിനേക്കാളും ദുർഘടം പിടിച്ച യാത്രയായിരുന്നു ലോബുചെയിലേക്കുള്ളത്.ക്രാമ്പണ്‍സ്,ഹാർനെസ്,കയറുകള്‍,ഐസ് കോടാലി എന്നിവ ഉപയോഗിച്ചായിരുന്നു യാത്ര. 2025 ലെ ശരത്കാലത്താണ് പ്രിയ 8163 മീറ്റർ ഉയരമുള്ള മനാസ്ലു കൊടുമുടി കയറുന്നത്.ലോകത്തിലെ എട്ടാമത്തെ ഉയരമുള്ള കൊടുമുടിയാണിത്.നേപ്പാളീസ് ഹിമാലയത്തിലെ മൻസിരി ഹിമാൽ ശ്രേണിയിൽ സ്ഥിതിചെയ്യുന്ന കൊലയാളി പർവ്വതം എന്ന കുപ്രസിദ്ധിയുള്ള മനാസ്ലു അസ്ഥിരമായ കാലാവസ്ഥയും ഉയർന്ന ഹിമപാതസാധ്യതയുമുള്ള ഇടമാണ്.ഇത്രയും സാഹസികമായ യാത്രകളിലൂടെ മഹത്തായ എവറസ്റ്റ് യാത്രയ്ക്കുള്ള എല്ലാ തയ്യാറെടുപ്പുകളും പൂർണ്ണമാവുകയായിരുന്നു.തുടർന്ന് ഏഴ് മാസത്തിനുള്ളിൽ അവർ എവറസ്റ്റിന്‍റെ നെറുകയിലുമെത്തി.

പറയാനെളുപ്പമാണെങ്കിലും അതിനുപിന്നിലെ അധ്വാനം അത്ര സുഖകരമായിരുന്നില്ല.പർവ്വതാരോഹണം പരിശീലിക്കുന്നവർക്ക് ആവശ്യമായ ഒരു സൌകര്യവും ലഭിക്കാത്ത ഇടമാണ് ചെന്നൈ.സമുദ്രനിരപ്പിൽ നിന്നും പരമാവധി ആറുമീറ്റർ മാത്രം ഉയരമുള്ള കുന്നുകളും മലകളുമില്ലാത്ത ചെന്നൈയിൽ ജോലിയുടെ ഉത്തരവാദിത്തത്തിൽ നിന്നും അധികം ഒഴിഞ്ഞുനിൽക്കാതെ പരിശീലിക്കുക എന്നത് അതിസങ്കീർണ്ണമായൊരു പ്രവർത്തിയായിരുന്നു.മനസുണ്ടെങ്കിൽ വഴിയുമുണ്ടാകും എന്നതായിരുന്നു പ്രിയയുടെ നിലപാട്.ഫിറ്റ്നസ് പ്രേമിയും ആരോഗ്യകരമായ ജീവിതം നയിക്കുന്നവളുമായതിനാൽ,അഭിനിവേശവും ലക്ഷ്യസ്ഥാനവും ചേർന്നൊരുക്കിയ പ്രേരണതന്നെ അവരെ മുന്നോട്ടുനയിച്ചു.കോംബാറ്റ് ഫിറ്റ്നസ് പരിശീലകനും കണ്ടീഷനിംഗ് സ്പെഷ്യലിസ്റ്റുമായ ഡോക്ടർ സുഗപ്രദീപായിരുന്നു പരിശീലകൻ.നാല് വർഷം നിരന്തര പരിശീലനം നടത്തി.അദ്ദേഹം ഓരോ ആറുമാസത്തേക്കും ഘടനാപരമായ ഒരു പ്രോഗ്രാം രൂപകൽപ്പന ചെയ്യുകയും അത് കൃത്യമായി പാലിക്കുകയും ചെയ്തു.വീട്ടിലെ പടികള്‍,ചരിഞ്ഞ ബോർഡുകള്‍,ആശുപത്രിയിലെ റാമ്പുകള്‍ എന്നിവ ഓടിക്കയറിയും ഇറങ്ങിയുമാണ് പ്രിയ പരിശീലനം തുടങ്ങിയത്.ഇതിന് പുറമെ മറീന ബീച്ചും റോഡുകളും പരിശീലനത്തിന് ഉപയോഗപ്പെടുത്തി.

ജീവിതാഭിലാഷത്തിന്‍റെ കൊടുമുടിയിൽ എത്തുന്നത് ഒരു വിജയമാണെങ്കിലും മരണവുമായി മുഖാമുഖം കണ്ട യാത്രയായിരുന്നു എവറസ്റ്റിലേത്.ശാരീരികമായും അതിലേറെ മാനസികമായും വൈകാരികമായും പല പരീക്ഷണങ്ങളും നേരിടേണ്ടിവന്നു.കാലാവസ്ഥയുടെ അനിശ്ചിതത്വം വലിയ വെല്ലുവിളിയാണ്.ഏപ്രിൽ പതിനേഴിന് ബേസ് ക്യാമ്പിലെത്തിയ പ്രിയയ്ക്ക് പ്രതികൂല കാലാവസ്ഥ കാരണം 45 ദിവസം ക്ഷമയോടെ കാത്തിരിക്കേണ്ടിവന്നു.മാനസിക സമ്മർദ്ദം കാരണം കടുത്ത നിരാശ ബാധിച്ച ദിവസങ്ങളുമുണ്ടായി.ശരീരത്തിൽ ഓക്സിജന്‍റെ അളവ് കുറയുമ്പോള്‍തന്നെ നമ്മളിൽ വിഭ്രാന്തിയുണ്ടാകും.ഒപ്പം അനിശ്ചിത്വം കൂടി ചേരുമ്പോള്‍ നില വഷളാകും.ഈ സമയം നിരവധി സംശയങ്ങള്‍ മനസിനെ അലട്ടി.വളരെ സംതൃപ്തമായ ഒരു പ്രൊഫഷനിൽ എല്ലാവിധ സൌകര്യങ്ങളോടുംകൂടി ജീവിക്കുന്ന ഡോക്ടറായ ഞാൻ എന്തിനാണ് ഈ പ്രയാസങ്ങളിലൂടെ കടന്നുപോകുന്നത് എന്ന ചോദ്യത്തിന് ഉത്തരമറിയാമെങ്കിലും ഈ ചോദ്യം മനസിലേക്ക് ആവർത്തിച്ചുവന്നു.ഞാൻ എന്തിനാണ് ഇവിടെ എത്തിയത് എന്നതാകും അടുത്ത ചോദ്യം.വീട്ടിലേക്ക് മടങ്ങണം എന്ന ചിന്തയും ശക്തമാകും.അപ്പോഴെല്ലാം സഹയാത്രികരും സംഗീതത്തോടുള്ള സ്നേഹവുമാണ് മനസ് തളരാതെ പ്രിയയെ പിടിച്ചുനിർത്തിയത്.പലവട്ടം ക്യാമ്പുകള്‍ മാറേണ്ടി വന്നു.കയറിയ ഉയരങ്ങളിൽ നിന്നും തിരിച്ചിറങ്ങേണ്ടിവന്നു.ശക്തമായ കാറ്റിൽ പലപ്പോഴും കൂടാരങ്ങള്‍ പറന്നുപോയി.

ഖുംബു ഹിമാനി 5486 മീറ്റർ ഉയരത്തിലാണ്.അവിടമാണ് യാത്രയിലെ ഏറ്റവും അപകടകരമായ ഇടവും.അവിടെവച്ചാണ് മുകളിൽ നിന്നും ഇടിഞ്ഞുവീണ മഞ്ഞടരുകളിൽ നിന്നും പ്രിയ ചെറിയ പരുക്കുകളോടെ രക്ഷപെട്ടത്.ഏഴാമതും എവറസ്റ്റ് കയറിയ അവരുടെ ഗൈഡ് അനുരൂപ് ഗുരുങിന്‍റെ മിന്നൽ വേഗത്തിലുള്ള ഇടപെടൽ കൊണ്ടായിരുന്നു ആ രക്ഷപെടൽ.ജീവിതം ചില മഞ്ഞടരുകള്‍ക്ക് അപ്പുറവും ഇപ്പുറവുമാണ് എന്ന് ഫിലോസഫി പറയാമെങ്കിലും ആ നിമിഷങ്ങള്‍ നടുക്കുന്നതായിരുന്നു.നമ്മള്‍ ഇവിടെയെത്തി,നമുക്ക് കൊടുമുടി കയറാൻ പരമാവധി ശ്രമിക്കാം എന്ന് ക്യാമ്പ് അംഗങ്ങള്‍ ആവർത്തിച്ച് പറഞ്ഞുകൊണ്ടിരുന്നു.ഇതിഹാസ പർവ്വതാരോഹകൻ നിർമ്മൽ പുർജയുടെ എലൈറ്റ് എക്സ്പെഡ് വഴിയായിരുന്നു യാത്രകള്‍.

സ്വപ്നങ്ങള്‍ കാണുന്നതിനും പ്രാവർത്തികമാക്കുന്നതിനും പ്രായം ഒരു പരിമിതിയല്ല എന്നാണ് പ്രിയ പറയുന്നത്.അടുത്തയാത്ര എവിടേക്കാണ് എന്ന് പ്രിയയോട് ചോദിച്ചാൽ പറയുക മനസ് എവറസ്റ്റിലാണുള്ളത്,ഇനിയും അവിടേക്ക് തന്നെയാണ് പോകേണ്ടത് എന്നാണ്.പ്രായമാകുംതോറും ബുദ്ധിയും അനുഭവജ്ഞാനവും ഉറച്ചമനസുമുണ്ടാകുമെന്ന് അവർ പറയുന്നു.അതെ,ലളിതമായി ജീവിക്കാൻ ആഗ്രഹിക്കുന്നവർ അങ്ങിനെ തുടരട്ടെ.സാഹസികത മുഖമുദ്രയാക്കിയവർക്ക് പ്രിയയുടെ വാക്കുകള്‍ ശ്രദ്ധിക്കാം,അതിൽ ആവേശം കൊള്ളാം.(അവസാനിച്ചു)

Simple and Complex – Episode 4 From Grief to Glory: The Inspiring Journey of Dr. Priya Selvarajan to the Summit of Everest – Part 1

 

Simple and Complex – Episode 4

From Grief to Glory: The Inspiring Journey of Dr. Priya Selvarajan to the Summit of Everest – Part 1

One of the fundamental differences between humans and other animals lies in the places they aspire to reach. Most animals spend their entire lives within a limited habitat. Migratory birds and certain marine species are exceptions, travelling great distances as part of nature's design.

Human beings, however, are different. Those who seek a simple life often define clear boundaries for their desires and surroundings, living contentedly within them. Others are driven by limitless aspirations—to swim across oceans, scale the world's highest peaks, or even live in space. Such ambitions may make life more complex, but for those who pursue them, that very complexity becomes the source of fulfilment.

Dr. Priya Selvarajan of Chennai, who reached the summit of Mount Everest at the age of fifty-two, belongs to this extraordinary group.

As the granddaughter of the legendary Tamil actor Gemini Ganesan, the niece of renowned actress Rekha, and the daughter of eminent cardiologist Dr. Somiya Francis Victor Selvaraj and pioneering fertility specialist Dr. Kamala Selvaraj, Priya grew up in an environment of privilege and excellence. Dr. Kamala Selvaraj made medical history by helping deliver South India's first test-tube baby through Assisted Reproductive Technology.

From childhood, Priya was fascinated by adventure. She dreamed of learning surfing, skydiving, and rock climbing. But in a family of doctors, there was little room for such ambitions. The expectation was clear: study hard, become a doctor, specialise, and continue the family's medical legacy.

When Priya shared her adventurous dreams, her mother gently discouraged her.

"Children often have many dreams. They don't all suit you. Such thoughts usually come when you lose focus on your studies. We are a family of doctors. Don't think beyond becoming a specialist doctor, my daughter."

Sensing the firmness behind those words, Priya quietly set aside her dream. Yet she made a promise to herself—that one day, when she had an independent life, she would become an adventurer.

As the years passed, Priya excelled in her studies, family life, and medical career. But her dreams evolved as well. Rock climbing and skydiving were no longer her ultimate goals. She now had a far greater ambition—to unfurl the Indian tricolour atop Mount Everest alongside the banner of the GG Fertility Research Foundation, an organisation dedicated to supporting young cancer patients seeking fertility preservation treatment.

That dream became reality on 27 May 2026 at 10:00 a.m., when Dr. Priya Selvarajan stood on the summit of Mount Everest. It was a triumph of endurance, determination, and mental strength. She also created a remarkable record by becoming the first Indian woman above the age of fifty to scale two peaks exceeding 8,000 metres within a short span of time.

Behind that achievement, however, lay years of relentless preparation.

Balancing the demanding responsibilities of a senior reproductive medicine specialist in Chennai with rigorous mountaineering training was never easy. Yet Priya's determination never wavered.

At the age of forty-eight, while struggling to cope with the loss of her father during the first wave of the COVID-19 pandemic, she signed up for her first trek. It was both a physical journey and an emotional pilgrimage.

She joined Indiahikes, founded by Arjun Majumdar and Sandhya, and undertook the Sandakphu–Phalut trek in the Singalila National Park along the India–Nepal border in West Bengal's Darjeeling district. Climbing to an altitude of about 3,600 metres helped her begin healing from personal grief while awakening a deep passion for mountaineering.

The journey continued. In 2022, she trekked to Khopra Ridge in Nepal's Annapurna region, strengthening both her confidence and resolve. In 2023, she successfully summited Mount Kilimanjaro, Africa's highest peak, rising to 5,895 metres.

Each of these expeditions became a stepping stone, preparing her physically and mentally for the ultimate challenge—the road to Everest.

(To be continued...)