After many weeks today I finally managed to find some inspiration to ramble again. Somehow words eluded me every time I sat down to write. Either the sentences were garbled, the thoughts didn’t flow or the idea itself appeared wrong. “Have faith” was the common advice I received from friends and peers alike. As days and weeks passed by I got restless and began to feel probably I didn’t have it in me anymore. In a writers parlance it’s called the “Writers Block”. It’s the most dreaded period in any amateur or professional writer’s life. It’s like trying to squeeze the ketchup out of the bottle. The more you hammer the bottle the more resilient the ketchup becomes. I began to feel a void within as blank pages stared at me after trying to write for hours at an end. I started searching for that one spark to ignite it all, the ketchup to finally fall from the bottle. And then it happened….
The ride from Kandy, a city that brings out the vibrant spirit of Sri Lanka, to Adams Peak is not something I would recommend to anyone. The 6 hour journey by road takes you through some of the most beautiful tea estates in the world, through high range mountains, deep valleys and across rivers. The constant twists and turns coupled with narrow roads and unpredictable rains will give anyone even in the best of physical health a run to the restroom. Trying to catch some sleep was next to impossible. Finally as we turned round a mountain, my guide pointed it out to me.
“There it is Mr. Karthik, Adams Peak, 3456 meters from the sea, the second tallest mountain in Sri Lanka”, giving the details in one breath.
“Do you have faith?” he enquired.
“On what Mr.Karnal? “, I asked.
“Generally God, religion, anything in particular…” he asked pointing to the top.
I just smiled. Well, how could I reveal I had lost faith on something that I loved to do most.
“It’s said that every man who tries the climb the peak more than once is crazy, and every man who does not climb it even once is also crazy” Mr.Karnal said. I smiled again. I am probably as crazy as they come, I thought to myself.
As we neared Del house, a small town at the base of the peak, the gates above us opened. The town wears a sleepy look for 10 months in a year and its residents number less than twenty-five. It’s during the Hope season, mid December to January end, that the town comes alive as thousands of devotees throng to Adams Peak to visit the temple at the top. The temple supposedly houses a footprint from over many centuries ago. It is claimed by Buddhists to belong to Buddha. However, counter claims exist - Hindus believe it’s the footprint of Lord Shiva and Muslims claim it to be of Adam. How and when these people visited this peak is yet to be proven. That said, come Hope Season devotees undertake the hardened climb to get a glimpse of the footprint. Faith has its mysterious ways of working on people! I was neither here to test any faith nor to prove any theories. I was here for the adventure. The sunrise from the top of the peak was acknowledged to be the best in the world by many tourists.
“You need to have faith Mr.Karthik else you cannot get to the top”, stated Karnal as I was filling up the guestbook in a dingy hotel.
“Am searching for it Mr.Karnal”, I replied. He nodded his head. I desperately needed some sleep from the tiring journey and we quickly split deciding to meet at 2.00 am in the porch.
As the alarm annoyingly buzzed I shut it out. As I got out of the blanket the chill hit me like a thunderbolt. I had second thoughts, but the sense of adventure was far more exciting. I met Karnal on the porch and we headed out. It was pitch dark and we used our flashlights to point the way. We walked down a narrow path, crossed a river and came by the statue of a sleeping Buddha.
“You are on your own from here Mr.Karthik,” Karnal said.” You might find a few climbers on your way. It will get difficult as you near the top. The mountain will get bigger on you. Don’t lose faith. Keep going” he added.
I was irritated at this point about constant reference to faith, but refrained from saying anything. I quickly turned and followed the path.
As the path got steeper, the terrain got tougher and was slippery due to rains. All I could think of was leeches, snakes, wild animals, falling down, breaking my foot, flash light going out and being left stranded. Every few minutes I started to check my watch. The distance from the town at the bottom to the top was about 15kms and took 4 hours. That was the standard. However, hotel staff did warn me that due to rains the conditions had got worse and the previous day a tree had fallen on a Norwegian couple. After an hour and half of walking, crawling and scrambling I was exhausted. I didn’t know if I was going in the right direction and my supply of water was quickly dwindling. I began to curse myself. Probably my ego had gotten in the way. Maybe my sense of adventure had got the better of me. Maybe I was not prepared for this. Maybe I should just sit somewhere and wait for daylight…May be…may be…As a plethora of thoughts swirled in my head the strength in my legs ebbed. Fog enveloped me and visibility was reduced to just arms length. To add to my misery, the mud path I was following gave way to broken steps which snaked into the thick undergrowth. As the gradient increased, the air began to thin out and to climb each step I needed to summon all my inner will. I began to feel dizzy and my courage began to melt.
When I first saw it I thought it was in my head. After a few more steps I cloud see it again. A light in the distance! Energy flooded my legs and a sense of hope flickered. At least now I was not alone. As I neared the light the jungle gave way to a clearing and I could see men in green overalls sleeping along the path. It was a makeshift army barrack!
“You alone?” a voice bolted from the dark.
I stopped dead in my tracks and turned to my right. I could vaguely make out the figure of a man.
“Yes. I am trying to climb the peak. Am I lost?” I enquired.
“No. You are on the right path. You want tea?” asked the soldier.
“Yes. And also water. I am out.” I replied.
As we neared the light I cloud make out the man’s face. He was clean shaved, medium built and wore the olive green army shirt and pants. His name tag read Suniel de Silva.
As we entered the barrack, he ordered tea to be brought and offered me a chair to sit.
“Are you from India?” he asked.
“Yes” I replied.
“I am the captain here. We are repairing the steps. I have been to India twice. Chennai and Kanya Kumari,” he said enthusiastically.
Hot tea came quickly and as I sipped it I cloud feel the blood gushing in my veins.
“You are courageous. You are almost near. Maybe an hour”, he said. I nodded with relief. After about 10 minutes in silence I got up to leave and thanked him.
As we shook hands he smiled and said, “Don’t lose faith.” He gave me a ball of thread and said it was customary for first time climbers to tie the thread between two poles at a particular spot as we neared the top. According to legend Buddha had torn his tunic at this very spot and as an offering a devotee tied the thread between two poles. He also said I should not forget to ring the bell. I promised I would and with a renewed sense of courage continued by journey.
As I began to climb the steps again, a question flashed in my head. What is faith? It is something we believe in whether proven or not. Period! A belief which gives us the courage to overcome obstacles, achieve the impossible, take risks and the confidence to face adversity. In its purest form faith its nothing but a sense of self belief! An inner light that guides us in places of darkness. Man somehow has manifested this faith into religion. And then man using the manifest created divide. A divide that fills us with arrogance and hatred. We then seek the support from materialism – money, power, et all to further the cause of our misplaced faith. Why else would we fight for 60 years over a piece of land over a matter of faith? Here I am trying to climb a peak that for devotees sprouts from multiple faiths. Yet it all leads to one thing. ‘A footprint’ no one knows how and why it came to be. We fail to understand that every holy book in its truest sense points to just a path of self discovery. Like the footprint all holy writings lead to just one and the same thing.
I tied the thread given by the soldier between the poles and ascended my last steps towards the temple. As I removed my shoes and entered the temple premise I saw an old lady reaching for the chord of the bell. She rang the bell eight times. As the sun rose what I witnessed was sheer brilliance. It’s indescribable in words. As the rays of the sun touched upon me I felt its warmth and with it my inner sense of self belief rising
