An unexpected trip, courtesy of the Indian consulate, to cover the Epoch Handicrafts and Gifts Fair in Greater Noida in the middle of last month saw my husband, Neeraj, and I jetting off to India on a trip that included a once-in-a-lifetime pilgrimage to the holy cities of Haridwar and Rishikesh.

It is here where the famed Ganges River descends from the Himalaya mountains on to the plains. The Ganges, referred to as the holy Ganga river, is steeped in Hinduism and it is said in the scriptures that those who bathe in the water have their sins washed away and attain moksha (liberation of the soul from the cycle of birth and death). Haridwar, literally Gateway to God, is one of the most important Hindu holy places in India and has been the centre of Hindu religion and mysticism for centuries.

The 210km journey from Delhi to Haridwar, which would normally take under five hours, stretched into eight, thanks to evening traffic, heavy mist, a few stray cows, and truck drivers driving on the wrong side of the road. Oh, and I forget, a one-hour stop that had us thinking we were about to be hijacked as burly men with thick woollen shawls covering their heads appeared out of the mist, brandishing rifles, and peeped into every vehicle. We eventually found out the men were looking for some missing cattle.

We had a quick supper stop at 11pm at a quaint, yet modern road diner that yielded the tastiest food we had ever eaten. Chilli paneer pizza, a vegetarian thali with pav bhaji and divine buttered-and-toasted home-made bread, followed by refreshing masala tea, had us talking about the meal for days.

In India there is no shortage of food. Depending on where you stay, food is cheap but there is a distinct difference. While in Delhi, we had our fill of butter paneer, chickpeas, puris and rotis (vegetarian for me) and lamb rogan josh, butter chicken and naan for my husband, I couldn’t help but wonder where the fresh vegetable curries were. We found them on the way to and in Haridwar.

Psychological or not, you feel a presence and great solitude when you enter Haridwar, an area that is becoming popular with foreigners because of its yoga retreats and ayurvedic establishments.

With meat and alcohol strictly forbidden, the towns of Haridwar and Rishikesh, which lie 20km apart, also host one of the largest gatherings on earth every three years – the Kumbh Mela – when more than five million people, sages and saints, gather to pray at the revered river.

Settled for the night (or rather early hours of the morning) in a super-luxury hotel, we went to sleep with thoughts of the next morning’s trip to Rishikesh and then the highlight – the evening aarti at Har Ki Paudi, the most religious spot in the river in Haridwar.

It is here that Lord Vishnu (the supreme Lord) left his footprints and it is also here, according to religious text, where a drop of immortal nectar, meant for the deities, fell to earth.

Performing a prayer and bathing here is said to yield great karmic actions. At Rishikesh, after meeting our guide, we were led to the ghats (built banks) of the Ganga. Rishikesh, meaning land of the senses, is home to the internationally renowned Sivananda Ashram and the Divine Life Society.

Hindu scriptures state that Lord Rama did penance in Rishikesh for killing Ravana, the demon king of Lanka; and Lakshman, his younger brother, crossed the river at a point where a huge suspension bridge now stands.

Ancient temples line the banks of the Ganges and chanting can be heard from them. Rishikesh is also known as the yoga capital of the world and it is here that The Beatles spent time meditating at the now closed Maharish Mahesh Yogi’s ashram. They composed nearly 48 songs during their time at the Maharishi’s ashram, many of which appear on the The Beatles, also known as “The White Album”.

As you walk down the steps to the Ganga river, you experience a

strong need to feel the water on you. Ramkumar Singh, our guide, went to great lengths to explain the religious significance of the area.

Despite India’s pollution and filth, the area is pristine and scientific research has confirmed that the water is uncontaminated – although not to be drunk.

Hinduism teaches that a drop of Ganga jal (water from the Ganga) is enough to cure most ailments.

In a moment of impulse I cupped my hand to sip some of the divine water. My sceptical husband followed. Just so you know, we didn’t get sick. In fact, due to much travelling, my feet were swollen but after a dip in the Ganges, the swelling disappeared, never to be seen again.

The sand on the banks of the river is white and strewn with crystals brought down with the river from the Himalayas, looking as if someone had thrown diamonds in the sand.

Hundreds of people, seeking peace with themselves, from every part of the world, from every race group, meditated on the banks while others immersed themselves in the river, hoping for liberation.

Later we travelled to the Mansa and Chandi Devi temple, which was built in rock at the foot of the Himalayas but requires a cable car trip to reach.

The Goddess here is believed to fulfil the wishes of devotees visiting her temple. To seek the blessings of the Goddess and get their wishes fulfilled, devotees tie sacred threads on the sacred tree that stands proud in the temple premises. Once the wishes are fulfilled, the devotees return to the tree to untie the threads.

Back at Haridwar, thousands of people were jostling for a place around the ghats lining the river in preparation for the aarti – the evening prayer dedicated to the river.

Thanks to our driver, Suresh Sharma, who had enlisted the services of a well-known priest, Rakesh Sharma, we were moved to the front of the queue and given prime position to perform our prayer.

With many fraudsters posing as priests, waiting to rip foreigners off, it is wise to arrange for a priest before you get to the temples, as the fraudsters demand as much as R2 000.

We were anointed and were able to perform several poojas, including one for our ancestors and I for my husband.

As evening fell, the bells started ringing and the chanting began “Har Har Ganga, Jai Ma Ganga”.

While shouts of “Ganga Mata ki Jai” rang out, people jostled to the water’s edge to float diyas (a lamp) in the river. A diya pack comes fully equipped, with a wick lamp surrounded by flowers, and two incense sticks, assembled in a bowl made of stitched leaves. Rakesh quickly ordered everyone aside as my husband and I moved to the water’s edge and sent our diya into the water.

Then it was time for the main aarti using a 1.5m brass lamp with more than 50 wicks. Rakesh signalled my husband to carry the lamp – an honour rarely given to a foreigner, especially in a country that is so conscious of caste and class.

With a damp cloth wrapped around his hand and covering his hand, my husband performed the aarti – the waving of the lamp in a clockwise direction. Indeed a rare, treasured and spiritual moment.

Half an hour later, the crowds dispersed to the many restaurants while guards dressed in blue and brandishing long sticks, looked for people wearing shoes and sent them scuttling. Shoes, especially those made of leather (from the cow, which is revered in India), are strictly forbidden from being worn in the vicinity of the temples and rivers.

There were shouts of joy as hundreds of worshippers dunked themselves in the water and then the allure of the water called again – my husband and I plunged into the icy water, hoping to purge ourselves of our sins, whatever they may be. - Sunday Tribune