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THE KIKAR LODGE
In The Vaisakhi Heartland
T. Sher Singh
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I am no ascetic. I like my creature comforts, especially when I'm away from home. For one reason only: when I have them, I'm not distracted and can concentrate on what I really want to do.
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I was in Punjab recently after an absence of more than three decades from India. So little time, and so much to do, so much to see. But, from the very outset, there were two "must do's" on my itinerary. The Darbar Sahib in Amritsar was the primary draw to the land of my birth, where I wanted to spend some quiet time. I felt I needed a lifetime of healing to do. Where else could one go for spiritual balm; a recharge of the batteries; a refill all the way to the top, with high octane …
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And then, there was Anandpur, the second "must-do". The mere sight of the dramatic hill-top where Guru Gobind Singh electrified an entire nation back to life three centuries ago, is ever my source of inspiration and motivation. The mere thought of standing within the ramparts of Keshgarh and experiencing the history sprawling around it for miles, is enough to instantly pull me out of any lethargy. But to actually stand there, in the shadow of the very hills where the Tenth Master gave birth to a new Chandi and sang the magnificent epic to it is, well, the ultimate …
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But planning the itinerary became a challenge, not because Anandpur is four hours from Lutyens' New Delhi, or because it is a couple of hours from Le Corbusier's Chandigarh, but because crowds had already started to pour into the city in anticipation of the great annual fair, Hola Mohalla. Would it be possible to get any quiet time anywhere? And though crowds add to the whole ambience of a mela, would there be relief from it during the day? Or the night? Or should I just go for the day, and flee to nearby Chandigarh by the evening? I confess I am addicted to my bundle of creature comforts. None of the options were appealing.
Imagine my delight then, when I discovered The Kikar Lodge, a Nature Retreat, a mere half-an-hour from Anandpur. Off the beaten track, tucked away out-of-sight, almost, in the Shivalik foothills. A property sprawling over 1800 acres or so and constituting what is described as the country's first private forest reserve. Adjacent to the Ropar Wetlands, the famous wildlife sanctuary which is widely deemed a paradise by anglers and bird-watchers alike.
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The very name of the resort evokes a deep emotional response within me. The Kikar, a tree indigenous to this very area, was given a voice by the great bard Vir Singh:
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Out of the dust with a heavenward thrust
I rise and rise and turn my eyes
Thirstily to the Lord of the skies…
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[translated by Harindranath Chattopadyaya]
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I make a bee-line for The Kikar Lodge.
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Getting to Ropar is easy: the highway is as good as any, though filling up quickly with truck- and tractor-loads of throngs making their way to the mela. I take the cut-off for Nurpur Bedi, hop over a pontoon bridge, and hit a wonderfully narrow and bumpy road which promises to take me through to the village of Kangar.
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My blossoms opened, my boughs unfurled:
Nor village, nor city, nor palace nor hut do I need in this world
From which I silently stand aloof…
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This is a land where history oozes from every inch of the soil. Guru Gobind Singh and the nascent Khalsa fought many a battle here against the Mughal armies, and the local Hill Rajas who had joined hands with them to help eradicate the new Faith. Our car bumps through the village of Basali, the site of a battle with Wazir Khan of Sirhind in the very first year (1700) after the Great Gathering of Vaisakhi. Within the forest reserve, we approach a small gurdwara. Touched by its serenity, I ask about its history: it is where the Guru rested between battles, charging his own spiritual batteries.
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The Lord, He granteth me ample love,
Affording me rain-showers enough,
Makes gold sunshine and blue air for me.
I stand alone in myself and dumb,
Dumb and solitary and vast:
Ascetic of grey centuries past
And of grey centuries to come!
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The countryside around me, I can see from this hill-top, is marked with shiny-white marbled domes of gurdwaras that celebrate each and every verse and chapter in the history of the Faith. But I like this old, non-descript building and pray that busy-bodies, the well-meaning Agents of Progress, will leave this place alone. It is fine without oodles of marble or a dome piercing the skies. It doesn't need a makeover. Please.
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We bounce by a string of kinnow orchards. And right by a phalanx of Holsteins ruminating, I'm sure, on how and why the likes of me manage to find our way here to intrude in their tranquility.
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The driver muses loudly: "Why don't they fix the bloody road?"
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I, also loudly, pray that they never "fix" it. I recognize it as the Road of Forgetfulness, on the sides of which you scatter and leave all worldly baggage behind.
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And then, suddenly around a corner, a large wrap-around structure and a bevy of thatched roofs emerge from the bushes. We have arrived.
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We are greeted by owner, gentleman farmer and Innkeper Amarindar Singh as we come to a stop in the parking area. We walk up the incline and find ourselves in a lush enclave punctuated by a dozen cottages overlooking two large swimming pools, paths meandering through flower-beds and fountains, and an amphitheatre in the center of it all. We are closely enveloped by green hills, cutting us off visually from the outside world.
It's an oasis. And within it, each cottage - private and detached - too is an oasis.
It has all the creature comforts I need, and more. It reminds me of my favourite resorts: Chiangmai in Northern Thailand, Sayan and Jimbaran in Bali. Every little detail has been taken care of: everything is impeccably clean (in India!) and unbelievably comfortable. The washroom, the bed, the temperature, the space, the colours and the light. The outdoors do come in, but they somehow don't intrude.
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And it is so peacefully quiet. This is where, I expect, one will be able to hear the earth as it spins on its axis, at night when all have gone to sleep …
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Not that there isn't enough to do if you want to do something.
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It's a perfect base-camp for visits to Anandpur Sahib and the gurdwaras galore in the region: Sirhind, Chamkaur, numerous Sikh Forts, etc, etc.
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The Lodge has carefully marked hiking trails on its property. You can take a guide and go animal tracking. Take a horse, camel or mule for a ride through the forest. Or venture off-road on a Quad or an All-terrain. Night safaris are popular for those who want to spot a variety of deer species in their natural habitat. And fox and wild boar. And more than a hundred species of birds unique to the region.
Or go for a walk through the fruit orchards, farms and dairies which supply the produce used for the gourmet meals - cuisines from around the world, as well as from Punjab and other regions of India. Or take a tour of the rose plantations which supply extracts to the cosmetic industry around the world. All of these managed by Amarindar and his lovely wife, both of whom constitute an infectious bundle of energy.
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And then. And then, there is the spa. The Lodge is partnered with the Kairali group which is widely for its therapeutic and ayurvedic treatments. I tried a head massage - and I was out like a light for hours!
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And now, since I left, I am told they've added something completely new on the property: a dozen tents. But they are no ordinary tents, believe me.
Having lived in Canada for 35 years, I have learned to enjoy the outdoors. But, not having been brought up here during my formative years, I've yet to learn to function well in the outdoors.
The Kikar Lodge has an answer to my predicament. It now has tents - same as the cottages, but on a neighboring hill-side: private, detached, etc, etc. But they are on solid floors, fully furnished, air-conditioned and heated, and attached to each is a proper bathroom, shower and all.
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Well. What more could one ask of life?
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One thing only. Surely Amarindar Singh can clone the Kikar Lodge for Amritsar as well, couldn't he? I'm keeping my fingers crossed.
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[For more info, please go to www.thekikarlodge.com]
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[T. Sher Singh lives and writes in Guelph, Ontario, Canada.]
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