My Travel Diary - Ujjain: The city of temples

Some where in the eastern horizon the sparkling rays of sun had spread a reddish shade. It was around 6:30 morning. The train repeatedly whistled as if to wake up all the half awaken passengers as it almost reached the final halt, beginning the journey back to three days from Trivandrum, the southern tip of India. Ahalyanagari Express had at last reached the city of Ahalya, as it's name says.

Looking out through the window, everything looked typical to any Indian railway station. Tea and breakfast sellers in dirty clothes ran across the platform to sell as much as possible before the passengers and the train leave the station. Coolies in red uniform rushed through the crowd to find a 'good catch'. And passengers with a hangover of the incomplete sleep moved towards the entrance with indifferent faces, so did I, with the weight of few bags on my shoulder.

Out of the station, my first step on the soil of the holy city of Ujjain, the city of temples, fused some unknown nostalgic moods into my thoughts. It might be some where here Shakuntala and Dushyanta, the popular Indian classic characters, had all their romantic but tragic episodes. It might be through the narrow road seen right in front of me, that Lord Krishna and his brother had walked to their 'guru' 'Sandipani'. Also it was on the sky above me the popular Indian poet Kalidasa had send his verses of love on the wings of clouds, which came to be known as 'Megasandesha'. And the faded ancient buildings should have had echoed the footsteps of the horses of King Vikramaditya who built the city into fame and prosperity.

Looking around for a vehicle to transport all of us, my friends and me along with the bulging luggages, we stood at the exit of the station for a while. Ujjain, at this part, looked like a city still back to hundreds of years. Narrow dirty roads, fruits and food sellers, wooden horse cabs.... Not a single sign to believe that I stand in a city of 21st century. As the cab sent from the college where I was supposed to stay and undergo studies reached, we accommodated ourselves in it and passing through a pretty wide road we moved towards the destination about 5 kms away from the station. The sign board on the road said that we were on 'Agar Road'.

Temples everywhere... on the roadside, under the trees, amidst houses... No wonder the city is called the city of temples. There are 200 temples, big and small, in the city itself. The mornings in Ujjain are voiced with hundreds of temple bells and 'Gayatri Mantra'. Tones of milk is poured on the numerous 'Shiva Lingas' in the temples. There are also temples that offer toddy to god as part of 'pooja'. Amidst all these temples there flows peacefully the holy river Shipra, in which the Maha Kumbamela takes place once in every twelve years.

The land of serpents and sadhus, the land of weired festivals and culture, the land of child marriages, the land of illiteracy and exploitations, the land religious extremism and irrational lifestyles, the land of poverty and extreme climate conditions... Ujjain was an unexplored mystery for me through out the years I stayed in the city and... and still!