My wife Kali Chaudhary has made arrangements for us to attend the festival of Vikram Baba, which earnest Hindus believe is the best time to ask the Hindu gods for a baby.
We are up at 4.00am (although I am awake at 3.00am). We wait in the cold and dark for the tuk-tuk driver which Kali has booked. Kali’s nephew Karan and brother-in-law’s mother arrive, Karan clutching the wire basket with the precious pigeons. Then the chakri (Hindu priest) arrives with Kali’s brother-in-law’s father. We all climb aboard the tuk-tuk.
We set out on the long trip through Terai, the cold wind whips our heads and scarves.
We motor through Chitrasari village and fields, then join the East-West highway at Tikauli near the Narayani River.
It is cold and bumpy in the tuk-tuk. We motor through the quiet sal forest of the Chitwan National Park. We pass lovely little houses with flowers along their front paths, all the inhabitants looking surprised as we chug through so early in the morning.
There is a wonderful blood-red sunrise over the fields. We pass through more villages. The trip seems never-ending. But we are all happy and filled with anticipation.
At last after about 2 hours we arrive at Kasara. We are met with the sight of many roadside stall holders with bright bangles, malas, coconuts, popcorn, miniature brass water jugs and tikka holders, incense, rice etc. We walk through into the forest, and cross a long bridge across the Narayani River, large fish are to be seen below. We walk through and along the river till we arrive at the ford by the CNP Headquarters office.
I joke with Kali that after this long journey, our baby must be waiting for us at the temple, ready to be given out to us. Kali smiles at the joke.
Kali bathes. I paddle and wet my head. A large elephant from the CNP office bathes and showers in the river. Other women bathe. Kali changes into a pure white sari. We continue towards the temple in a clearing near the crocodile breeding centre. Kali has a solemn look of calmness, concentration and anticipation.
Many people crowd around. Headless goats are carried away. We go past the sacrificial site and come to the temple, which is a tree surrounded by a low white-painted fence. The tree is festooned with prayer flags. There is a continuous loud cracking sound which is disconcerting, until I realize it is the sound of coconuts being cracked open and the milk is sprayed over the tree. Many devout people are kneeling at little altars all around the fence. One woman is on her knees imploring the gods in a very agitated state, beating herself and shaking violently.
Kali makes our altar and the chakri kneels beside her. Kali first fills a small bowl with oil and lights the wick, then she spreads out little mounds of rice, followed by red hibiscus flowers, small brass coins, little threads of cotton, and incense sticks. She places little gifts on top of all this such as white sugared sweets, miniature mirror and comb and other decorative items, also small packets of seeds, wheat, cloves and spices in little packets. All laid carefully and devoutly. Her face is concentrated in prayer. Karan gives us the 2 pigeons each, which we hold in each hand. They are warm and drowsy, but as the chakri pours water over them they flinch in our hands and shuffle their feathers and shake their heads. I feel their little warm hearts beating. The chakri mutters his prayers and we both kneel and pray while he scatters rice and pours water over both us and the offerings. All the time there is the sound of the sharp cracking of coconuts and the milk spraying over our heads. All the time there is the smell of different incense and oils, mingling with ghee and other strange scents. We at last are able to release the pigeons and they flutter exhausted into the tree. I am relieved that they are not to be killed.
The people crowd around and when they have finished their personal prayers, they line up to be blessed and have tikkas put on their foreheads by the 2 priests inside the fence. Kali and I also queue up for this blessing.
After this we wend our way out and away from the temple. We briefly witness some goats being beheaded, and I notice they are usually the old, lame or sick ones, though there are some very young ones also. We walk towards the crocodile breeding centre where we meet Karan’s father, and then we arrive at the hattisar of the CNP HQ. We ask for tea, but at first the staff say no, but in a little while a man brings us cups of black sweet tea which is greatly appreciated.
Kali and I are still in awe of what has just taken place and we are quiet and reflective. Kali changes from her white sari back into her daytime one.
As we sit, we watch many more people crowding the path towards the temple, all carrying plastic bags full with their offerings of coconuts, incense, rice, spices and sweets.
We start the long journey back, though now the sun is shining and it is warm. I doze in the tuk-tuk. I ask Kali if she is happy. ‘Yes’ she replies. I am content.
c. Tim Taylor 2015
Tim Taylor is an Englishman living in Chitwan. He is married to Kali Chaudhary. Tim is a volunteer with Green Society Nepal, supervising the elephant-dung paper project.