About twelve kilometres from Bodhgaya town, back towards Gaya, is Dungeshwari Cave or the Pragbodhi Cave, where Buddha piously meditated for six years, in self mortification, before descending to Bodhgaya in a state of starvation, illness and feebleness. The story goes that he rested under a banyan tree and was offered some nourishment from a 'doomed' village woman called Sujata. This act lead him along the final path to enlightenment, understanding that neither extreme self-indulgence nor self-ebasement was the way to enlightenment. It is through the middle path.
I am actively encouraged to visit this important place which necessitates transport. By this stage I have three young men 'learning English' and facilitating the experience for me. No mention of cost but I have done my homework and sourced costs yesterday. An auto-rickshaw arrives to be the very uncomfortable chariot for the journey. It is standard size but bedecked with a remote controlled sound system with boom boxes in the rear. These are commuter rickshaws with a front seat as wide as the back. Two of the lads hop front with the driver. One controls the sound system and like any teenage boy, full volume, half songs, skipping back and forward. On the journey I think only half a dozen play all the way through and that was over a two hour period. The other practises his driving skills proudly, not moving into the centre seat but squashing the driver over. He beams with pride. Male rite hood and ritual alive in every culture.
The road is a continual speed bump, either intentional, of which there are many or not, as in potholes that are unavoidable. There is little padding offered either with suspension or on the seat so my whole physical being is shaken as we bounce over the impediments. Joy of joys the sealed road disappears as we turn off onto a dirt path, just wide enough for the single vehicle and a bike or walker. This creates a side lurching action to accompany the shake. At this point either side of this raised road are green paddy fields. It seems that is the 'main' road to the cave as further along the road is being expanded and we are traversing across one of the various detour routes looking for the least problematic. The paddy fields gone. The ground now is dry and sandy, it is typical desert landscape.
The heat of the sun has passed and there are few here, a blessing and a curse at the same time. Descended upon from every which direction, I have no idea where they appeared from and I am not sure why I need to buy a gross of biscuits or a snap lock bag filled with coin. Whatever the reason, the price continues to drop as I walk away. The people porters are next; chasing after me carrying a small howdah suspended across a wooden pole. They decided instead of two they might need three men to manage the task. It was humorous just watching them negotiating my weight and a possible price. After some laughter a viable option presented itself. Whilst the walk is not too far, it is steep and maximising time, I opted for being a pillion passenger on the back of a motorbike. More laughs as the price was negotiated to a fifth of the original asking price. The bike was gutsy, the rider steady and skilled negotiating the roughly paved path and drains under tyre. Helmets, no need.
This got me two thirds of the way and then the stairs start. More biscuit and coin sellers, older men and young boys, hover trying their fortune in case I have an urgent need. They were nothing if not persistent. Reaching the final stairs leading to the temple complex, peace comes into play, no pestering. The stairs lead to a viewing platform overlooking the valley and dry river in the distance. Various temples and meeting halls have been built into the hillside manned by a few well cared for saffron cladded monks catching the last of the sun's rays. A steep stairwell leads to the cave opening through a bevy of bodies moving part of the hillside that has been reduced to manageable rocks and rubble. That becomes evident as the jackhammer starts, continuing the job.
I peer through the cave opening. Buddhist pilgrims and monks occupy the interior space, in lotus position, meditating. I am beckoned in and space is made, sitting on the floor legs resting on the interior steps for space. A place that should have been one of the most sacred and silent was a true test of control, concentration and peace.
The interior housed a bronze seated Buddha in posture, surrounded by several smaller ones. In his crossed palms a changing LED lotus flower light illuminates, in front two flickering powered candles, before the actual flame candles. It was hot and humid inside generated by bodies and the flames. Photography was allowed but felt wrong. This did not bother one of those meditating who started taking selfies. Another shattering of the jackhammer just outside the entrance and I chose to enjoy the sunset view.
To manage the bone shaking journey home I needed first to pee and then a chai. A chai makes everything seem manageable.
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