The mysteries of Srikhand Mahadev

At 18,000 feet (roughly 5,400 m), the peak at Srikhand Mahadev is imposing in its savage grandeur and timeless beauty, shrouded in constantly drifting clouds, surrounded by ice fields and buffeted by powerful winds all day long. The massif is located on the border of Kullu and Shimla districts and is approachable from three directions: Bathad in Tirthan valley, Phancha in Ghanvi Khad and Baghipul.

I had undertaken in 2004, going up via Bathad and returning by way of Baghipul. It is perhaps one of the most difficult pilgrimages , but for those who venture to undertake to visit this abode of Shiva, the rewards are plenty. And one of them is the rich mythology associated with this legend, rich even by the fecund standards of our dev bhoomi.

I find three of them particularly fascinating and poignant. On the final day of the trek to the peak one has to ascend from Bhim Dwar (14,000 feet), the camp site for the previous night.

The first five km or so is over alpine pastures, but then the terrain becomes rocky and covered with scree — not a blade of grass grows in this barren wasteland. But after another four km or so, one suddenly finds oneself in the middle of a field of flowers — a profuse expanse of the mystical Brahma kamal, hundreds of them sprouting in glee from between the rocks, their white and cream colours transforming the barren landscape into an arboratum of the gods. This place is known as Parvati ka bageecha (the garden of Parvati).

Parvati ka bageecha (photo: author)

The Brahm kamal is the favourite flower of the goddess Parvati, and they are there for a reason. Legend has it that it was at this spot that Parvati waited 18,000 years to win the affection of Lord Shiva, who was meditating on the peak at Srikhand, totally oblivious to her.

Empathising with her loneliness and distress, the Brahm kamal bloomed around her spontaneously to give her company and cheer her up. And they are certainly a cheering sight in this desolate terrain, giving one fresh encouragement for the remaining climb of 2,000 feet.

One continues ascending beyond Parvati ka bageecha and the terrain soon reverts to the harsh, glaciated landscape, all greenery gone. A short distance on, at the foot of the final, steep 2,000-foot climb to the peak, is a small, glacial lake fed by the snow melt from the surrounding glaciers — and herein is embedded another poignant myth.

This pristine lake is in the shape of an eye and is known as Nain Sarovar. Legend has it that Parvati, while waiting for Lord Shiva, became so disheartened and disconsolate that she started weeping. One tear drop fell on the ground and formed a lake, shaped like an eye, which is what we see today, hence its name.

Nain Sarovar (photo: author)

Pilgrims and trekkers take a dip in these holy waters before proceeding further. The lake is gradually filling up with detritus and may one day , but it has imbued this stark landscape with an anthropomorphic emotion which adds richness to this dev bhoomi.

From the lake, it is a steep 2,000-foot ascent to the peak over continuous rockfall, boulders and patches of ice and snow, but one baffling mysterious myth still remains.

Halfway to the peak, scattered among the boulders, one comes across a dozen or so stone tablets of massive proportions, rectangular in shape, completely out of place among these rounded boulders. There are carvings on their faces, like some type of cuneiform or vanished script in regular lines. Take a look at the image below.

It would be difficult to convince any reasonable person that (a) the regular shapes of these tablets have not been carved by a humanoid hand or that they are the result of natural erosion, and (b) that the calligraphic type markings on them are the result of the action of winds and ice.

The strange boulder (photo: author)

Such explanations do not match with the surrounding rocks, which do not show any similar effects of these natural forces. The carvings are too stylised and uniform to be natural. And the question: why only these dozen-odd tablets?

The devout have a more interesting explanation: these mountain ranges were visited by the Pandavas during their exile (there are legends of the fabled Pandavas in other regions of the state, and other natural features associated with them, such as Pandupul in the Parbati valley and Bhim ka chulha at Hatu Peak), and they are supposed to have spent some time on Srikhand Mahadev.

These tablets were carved by Bhim and the 'writings' on them are the accounts of their travels he recorded. They are known as 'Bhim ki bahi' (ledgers of Bhim. Pilgrims venerate these rocks, as the chandan (sandalwood) markings on the image bear testimony.

I am reluctant to dismiss outright something which I cannot explain rationally. The remote, of Himachal are absolutely saturated with similar mythologies of the ages. We may not believe in them but we must respect them for they are part of the DNA of both man and nature in these forbidding regions.

They bring together MAN, RELIGION and NATURE, a much more sustainable synthesis than today's concoction of . They have also played a significant role in preserving the natural environment and we must value them for this reason alone, if not for others.

Avay Shukla is a retired IAS officer and author of Holy Cows and Loose Cannons — the Duffer Zone Chronicles and other works. He blogs at 

More of his writing may be read .