Of Rains, New Years and celebrations

Sitting by the French window I listened to the gusty wind whistling by between the sky scrapers. White sheets of heavy rain were drenching the city of Bangkok.  The occasional thunder and lightening added to the drama. Was this nature's own way of welcoming "Songkran" - the Thai New Year ? I wondered. Songkran is celebrated by splashing water upon others which symbolises washing away the sins. On the New Year's Eve a rain-washed , purified, pleasant and beautiful Bangkok awaited the sunrise in high spirit.

By the time the rain eased, dusk had fallen and the far away city lights twinkled in the darkness. The cozy cool caressing evening brought back fond memories of "Kalbaishakhi" of Bengal. The storm, the thunder, the lightening followed by a heavy downpour setlling the heat . The scenery was strikingly similar. Add to this, "Nabobarsho" - the Bengali New year was almost imminent.

Songkran was observed between 13th - 15th April. Nabobarsha was celebrated on 15th April. Being a Bengali living in Bangkok, these three days proved to be a festive fusion for us.

On the cheerful Songkran morning, my son, who had been eagerly waiting for this event, skipped around in a traditional bright floral shirt with his little water gun to drench someone. Foam parties were focus of celebrations at many places. The young folks had gathered in groups across lanes and by- lanes merrily splashing water on passing cars. The fairs and puppet shows were the attractions for the evening. A sumptuous Thai dinner couldn't be far behind.

Today, Nabobarsho arrived with all its warmth and nostalgia. New clothes and bengali songs had set the mood for celebration. Exchange of pleasantries with our folks back in India made the day so special and made us feel closer to home. Lunch had to be an elaborate Bengali affair. On this day of "Poila Baisakh", I did hope for a " Kalbaishakhi" too !!!

Keeping up with the famed bengali sweet tooth, we concluded the festivities with our favourite desserts - the Thai "Mango with Sticky Rice " and the Bengali " Rashogolla" . That was heavenly !!!

With this sweet note I wish all my friends " Shubho Nabobarsho". Let the new year shower you with prosperity and happiness.

The Jewel of Bedugul

Gusti Ngurah Putu, now the King, set on a journey across his newly acquired land. It was time to show his gratitude. He had defeated his enemies with the blessings of Almighty. He conquered his lost land and gained a new territory as a gift from the King of Tabanan. So he wanted to build a temple to mark his victory and the beginning of the reign of Mengwi dynasty. But where ? Where can he find a place of pristine beauty, calmness and serenity to establish his benevolent deity?

The king  remembered his days of ascetism. He had prayed to Mount Mangu for powers to revenge his humiliating defeat. Pleased with his penance the mighty mountain had blessed him and Gusti Ngurah Putu had vanquished his enemies to restore himself as the lord of his favourite land. Should he go back to the powerful mountain again to find a place for his deity ?  He pondered. 

Finally, the king started on the mountain trail in search of a perfect location. As he ascended, the lush vegetation on the way gave him hopes of good harvest and prosperity. He climbed up higher and a fine curtain of mountain mist wrapped him. He tried to peer through but in vain. Everything looked mysterious and strangely beautiful. "Am I close to heaven? Is this where the gods dwell? What lies ahead ?" He thought. Tired, he decided for a temporary halt. A brush of cool air swept across his face. Slowly the mist rolled away in the breeze and a body of sparkling waters emerged. The king found himself standing at the edge of a big lake guarded by high mountains. The beauty of the place held him captivated for long. His heart warmed up to a thought. What better place can he find for his deity? Dewi Danu , the water goddess has revealed her most beautiful form in his kingdom. So be it. Let Vishnu reside here in this heavenly abode. 

Pura Ulun Danu Bratan was built on the banks of Lake Beratan by the Mengwi King Gusti Ngurah Putu, in seventeenth century. It is situated in the highlands near Bedugul in North Bali, Indonesia. It consists of four temples dedicated to Water Goddess Dewi Danu ( Dalem Purwa temple) , and Hindu deities Shiva ( Lingga Petak temple) , Vishnu ( Penataran Pucak Mangu temple) and Brahma ( Terate Bang temple).  A statue of Lord Buddha is also placed in the temple.Famous as one of the nine directional temples in Bali ; it is part of the "Kahayan Jagat" to the Balinese. 

We drove up the winding track hugging the hills and the valley below looked verdant green. Ahead, at a distance, a fleet of soft white clouds hung low above the road. As we slowly wheeled into it, my four year old son wanted to take away a fistful of cloud in his pocket. Soon it became a distant scenery as we approached the lake temple. Entering the complex, we found the landscaped gardens brimming with foreign and local tourists. Children skipped and ran merrily in a charming little playground at one corner. Couples revelled in the glorious sunshine around the expansive lawns. It was a perfect balmy day at Bedugul.

Tourists were not allowed inside the main sanctum, so we took the sidewalk towards the lake. Bright marigolds adorned the pathway leading to a striking Meru. It represented Gunung Mangu which is the mountain abode of Vishnu. The eleven tiered thatched palm structure extending into the water looked iconic against the blue hills which surrounded Lake Beratan. The cool breeze blew silvery ripples on the waters caressing the Pura.  

  

                                           

In sometime, a procession came out carrying a throne. The devotees wore white attire. Ceremonial beating of drums broke through the low chatter of tourists. Alerted, everybody hurried aside ready to shoot. Once the procession passed by, we decided to leave the crowd to take in the magnificent view around the lake. 

We came out from one of the side exits of the complex , which opened into a large meadow by the lake stretching till the hills near by. The breeze felt stronger. The mist and the sun played peek-a-boo once shrouding and then revealing Mount Bratan. Clouds drifted across the blue sky. The surface of the lake shimmered like a gossamer. There we stood  enthralled like the Mengwi King of yore - at the confluence of spirituality, tranquility and unforgettable beauty.

(The story narrated above is a work of fiction based on few historic incidents)