An 'Indian' foreigner in Nashik

Perceptions are typical sometimes, particularly when they come to foreigners visiting a city like Nashik, which has a popular religious history, is rich in its abundant scenic beauty, particularly in the Sahyadri range and has a strong industrial and agricultural potential.

My perception of Dan’s visit to my city was also somewhat typical, the only difference was the knowledge that Dan who had come to India during September will be here for a year, is staying in Navsari and studying the Parsi religion and community.

I expected Dan to get down from a sleeper coach at the bus stand but after about two hours delay, a smiling Dan got down from an Asiad bus... actually Dan had started in a lal debba — the ordinary bus but as it failed in Saputara, Dan had to hop in a share taxi — commonly known as the Kali-Piwali (black-yellow jeeps, that take in passengers much more than their capacity), and then again get on the Asiad, as the conductor from his first bus recognised this gora and took him on the replacement bus. After this ordeal of a journey, I expected Dan to be irritated and angry — that is how we would react after an experience like this, but Dan was glad to be received and apologised for being late.

After two treks in the Sahyadris, Dan was ready for his grand tour of the holy city on his last day.  As punctual as ever, Dan arrived exactly at 9.30am at my temple house on the banks of the river Godavari. I was asked to show him the river and temples around and acquaint him with the history. I often give visitors a glimpse of Nashik.

This time though I was reluctant to take Dan to the river. I have seen the Ohio river and its wide spic-and-span banks, the clean waters, in northern Kentucky, USA, from where Dan is. The Godavari and its banks, though holy, is messy with vehicles, clothes, utensils, vegetables, and animals being washed in its water. The city nullah overflows into the river. The water itself is dirty, with nirmalya (remains of flowers offered to god) and the layers of mud — remains of the recent floods — dried grass, tattered clothes hanging on the electric wires,  add to the noise and chaos. I felt Dan would not be impressed with the scene. But Dan started sounding different to me when he said that the missal-pav he had during the trek was very tasty.

Anyway,  I had decided to take Dan on my scooter and zoom over the bridge, giving him just a glimpse of the river, take him to Tapovan, where Laxmana had chopped off Surpanakha’s (Ravana’s sister) nose. Then, Dan started to tell me the story of ‘Nasika Vadh’ — “is that how Nashik got its name?” he asked. He knew about Ravana and the Marich vadh — which he referred to as Rama’s deer hunting.

He appreciated the stone architecture of the age-old Kalaram temple, went down the narrow caves of the Seeta gumpha and understood why people were taking a holy dip in Ramkhund.

It did not take me long to find out that Dan, a student of archaeology had studied Sanskrit at Harvard, where he is also teaching Persian. Dan was more Indian than many of us, not only because he knew the Ramayana and Mahabharata, but because he could understand the faith and sentiment of the people, also because he understood that people used the river as they may not have easy and plentiful access to water in their homes, because he relished adrak wali chai, because he cooked bhendi masala at Harvard, because he was fond of Hindi movies from Dev Anand to Amitabh Bachchan to Shah Rukh Khan, because he was aware of Dadasaheb Phalke’s contribution to Indian cinema, because he ate dal-bhaat with his hands and all this came naturally to him.

He definitely changed my perception of a visitor to my city and more importantly my perception towards my holy city
of Nashik.