Ganga : Finding Mother

"Ganga", I was told, is "holy" or sacred to Hindus all over the world. That was my first introduction to the mighty river that is famed to have been the cradle of civilization in the Indian subcontinent over thousands of years. Growing up in a Bengali Hindu home, I learned to associate "holiness" with the idea of "purity" quite early in life. Ganga - Jal( water from the Ganga river) was used in many rituals to purify and sanctify spaces and prepare the grounds for presenting the intention of worship and offerings to the deities. Ganga appeared to me thus as a symbol - a symbol embedded in a rich and colorful belief system where "purity" and the role of "cleansing away" sins were regarded as the duty and the sacred contribution of this dynamic and powerful force of Nature. I saw and understood Ganga from a distance then - in theory. I hadn't met her in person or in spirit.

In the year 2011 when my mother suddenly passed away, leaving behind a family utterly unprepared for life without her wisdom and intervention, I met Ganga for the first time as the watery portal transporting my mother to her afterlife. She swallowed up my mother's ashes into her watery depths as I found myself left behind, standing at the threshold of a life that did not have the option "motherless" as a condition or pretext till then, and with understandably no relevant frame of reference for the future. I remember the void, that pit-like emptiness gnawing inside like a deepening vortex sucking out light and life in one go! Even as I struggled to come to terms with this new reality - this new visceral experience of separation, something about the energy of the gurgling river felt safe. I remember coming back to her banks over the years, drawn to her lulling energy, the whispering ripples, and the memory of being nearest to the gateway to my mother's new home. Instinctively I would try to connect with Ganga's energy, hoping that like some magical multi-dimensional portal, maybe my mother's spirit would speak to me in my heart. Gradually, I developed a ritual that involved hopping onto one of the little boats tethered at her banks and lying down on the deck under the open sky as the boatman ferried us to the middle of the river. With the heavens as my blanket, I would snuggle in and allow myself to be rocked to comfort by the swaying little boat on Ganga's lap. This was the closest I could go to being back in my mother's arms. I barely realized that I was opening up to the Mother. This ritual remains a favorite even to this day.

When I was struggling to find my feet and build my career, interestingly I started by volunteering with an organization that was named after yet another river, another cradle of an ancient civilization. Euphrates Institute became my stepping stone into exploring the idea of flow and choice to consciously support life and life-giving efforts through my work rather than destructive choices that were common in society. The organization was built on a story, the story of the founder Janessa, who found herself in a war zone in Iraq in 2006 where the river spoke to her in an epiphany: "In the midst of all the bombs going off, death and destruction, the river was flowing on as a force of life and hope. I knew at that moment that I had to choose. I chose the river!" She would narrate the founding ethos of her vision for the organization. I connected with Janessa on that note: Ganga would speak with me too. She would sing to me to comfort me, and provide insights every day to choose life, compassion, and connection over disruption, discord, and destruction. "Could She perhaps help me find my career and life direction too?" I would wonder. 2018 was the year I got my answer.

While volunteering with the Euphrates Institute, I would often play in my head with the "river" as a symbol, as a point of connection with how I imagined flowing with creativity would feel. I would bring together friends to design community dialogue efforts, "choosing" to bring people together as the idea and symbol of the "river" taught me. Soon one step led to the other and I somehow managed to get myself selected for the KAICIID International Fellowship for the South and South East Asia region. This Fellowship was designed to train selected fellows to bring people of different faith traditions to dialogue. I had already started taking my baby steps to do the same but this was different! It was big! I was 27 when this opportunity opened up, and then as if through divine intervention, I got an email even before I started the fellowship to visit Rishikesh on 8th December 2018. It was for some KAICIID workshop meant to bring youth together to learn the art of dialogue at an ashram. Little did I know then that the Mother was calling me to her banks before my new beginning. As I dropped my bags at the ashram in my allotted room, something in the air told me that we were near the river. It was probably the energy. I felt a pull!

Soon, I found myself at the front gate of the ashram. Right across the tiny lane were the marble steps leading down to the river. A pier connected the ghat in a semi-circular arc over the river, a few feet across the bank. At the very center of the pier was a gigantic statue of Shiva immersed in deep meditation. Something about the sight and the energetic impact of being there left me feeling blank and quite unprepared for the message that I was meant to decipher. I wasn't there by accident! That was clear. I was brought there. My Mother had a message that Mother Ganga relayed to me. Certain words popped up inside my head as my eyes followed the river. "Peace", "Roots", "Identity", "Journey", "Bridge" She whispered. "What is that supposed to mean?" I asked her. "You will know when it is time" was her reply.

The KAICIID Fellowship opened me up to a brand new beginning as a professional working with faith communities. The year 2019 took me to Myanmar, Malaysia, and Austria to meet new people, build new connections, learn and slowly put together the idea of my "journey to become the bridge" and work with communities to help them "find peace in their roots and with their identities". My Mother called me to her banks again in November 2019, this time in Varanasi. While attending a colorful concert on her banks which brought artists from the local communities and from the West together, I learned to stay rooted while connecting with the world.

With the little local artist of the evening at URI National Assembly Music Concert , Varanasi

As 2019 rolled into the brand new year 2020, it was time to use my knowledge from the KAICIID Fellowship in practice. February 2020 brought me back to Rishikesh again for the yearly dialogue training by KAICIID. This time, it was on her banks at the exact same spot that my colleague from Kashmir asked me to join their team in order to build a start-up think tank. It was a scary decision for me and I had my misgivings. In the moments that I spent with Ganga alone, I wondered what I should do. I had already signed up for a job and was scheduled to leave for the North East of India on fieldwork. Kashmir and the three-decade-old conflict had been a primary area of interest for me as I delved deeper to understand how religious identities shape conflict. Dipping my feet into the water, I allowed the hot spiced tea cupped in my hands to anchor my focus on the wisps of steam spiraling up out of the kulhad/mud cup. I wanted this decision to be guided by the heart and my connection with Ganga and not by my rational mind. After a few minutes which seemed like a long long time, I felt someone telling me, "Flow and Trust." Cryptic messages are obviously not the best options when you don't trust your own interpretations. I told my friend, "I will think about it." But he seemed oddly confident. "I will make the necessary preparations and arrangements. I know you. You will come." He said.

As COVID-19 struck and the world came grinding to a halt, my work with the Kashmiri team began. I was doing what I was guided to do. I was flowing and trusting the journey. Eventually, my choices helped me connect deeper with the "flow" element inside. Even when away from her banks, Ganga became a guiding force, a channeling stream of my creative instincts. I helped birth the platform for connecting youth in Kashmir to the potential for building a new narrative of hope for the future. I mentored and guided them to reconnect with their roots and ask important questions about their identity, the conflict, and where life was heading for them. I instituted an approach towards inclusion in letter, spirit, and vision for the organization that sought to connect the youth across labels, boundaries, and historic rifts. I carried the wisdom of the river with me as I witnessed the organization and team blossom despite difficult circumstances.

My journey took me next to Ladakh in 2021 where I learned how to encourage communities to let go of the past hurts, forgive and atone in order to reconcile relationships defining the core of shared culture in the region. I remembered the hurt and the void of separation that I had felt in 2011 as I worked with my colleagues to bring awareness to our participants about the pangs of separation and the negative effects of unhealed wounds in relationships. "Do I know what healing feels like?" I had asked myself then. In dreams, She spoke to me and mentioned, " To restore is to heal. Let go of the clutter first." A year and a half of team effort led to the resolution of multiple issues and the renewal of relationships among communities in Ladakh from a space of heart-centered reconciliation. As I witnessed the magic, I found my faith restored in "transformation through healing".

The year 2022 drew to a close with me yearning to reconnect with Ganga. I wanted her nurturing energy again to recharge my batteries. Peacebuilding had not gone easy on my spirit. But I did take note of the lessons from my experiences and conversations with Ganga. The field had shaped me, tempering my rough edges and burning up all that had to be shed in order to push me to become better. Like a tired and bruised child, I remember praying for relief. "Ask and thou shall receive", they say. Soon, I got a call from Sadhvi Bhagwati Saraswati ji, a spiritual guide, mentor, and mother figure to many. She invited me to visit as she had to discuss some important matters. The old year ended and a new year began as I sat at the feet of Mother again in Rishikesh. I asked her, "What did you want to tell me?"

The image of Ganga embracing my mother's ashes flashed in front of me again, only this time - the void wasn't there. I awoke to the understanding that She had filled up the vacuum over the years through all the lessons and her constant presence. The separation had become a new point of connection. And so I met my Mother again as Ganga. I remember the moment when this realization hit me. I closed my eyes and heard her somewhere inside me.

"Come Home. It is time to heal"