A goat was being tied to a cycle. Four men and a little boy were busy spelling out their ideas to get the bleating goat settled on a piece of rice sack. When I asked why the poor thing was being loaded in such a small space above the cycle pedals, the answer was, “It’s his journey of lifetime.”
The goat was destined to be the feast for the day. The first of Baishakh, the first day of the Nepali calendar, is spent making merry, having good time with friends and visiting the sacred places – the temples and thans (worshipping place of ancestral village deity).
The men were heading to Chanarbhoga – the Shira Than – where the guardian deity of many villages is supposed to dwell. Every year, the villagers collect money and buy a goat for the deity. Every village in the vicinity sacrifice a goat to make sure that the deity remains happy throughout the year and keeps away any outbreak of diseases and natural disasters happening in those villages. That’s the popular belief.
Having heard a lot about Chanarbhoga, called Chandrabhoga by Nepali speakers, I set off along with the team with the goat tied to the cycle. And aiding me in my trip was my favourite mountain bike with Shimano gears.
I was amazed by the terrain – stony river bed with ditches and flowing water at places, hills carved with interesting patterns from landslides, newly planted trees sprouting out amidst the butts of trees felled down – all were a “wow” for me.
If you want to hike, trek and climb like Bear Grylls in the Man Vs Wild, head for the ruins of an ancient temple spread over the Chure hills in Saptari district of Eastern Nepal.
A mountain bike can be your best partner – to experience biking along the dry river bed during the March – April season. The once dense forest turns into withered, leafless trees and the climbers that sprawl the forest all the year round dries down. Thanks to the forest fire that occurs every year, the whole forest turns into a burnt, lifeless environ easing your climb to the hill-top.
There are two ways to reach Chanarbhoga. Either head north from the Govind Chowk a kilometre west of Rupani or move northwards from the Shambhunath Chowk (locally called Traffic) which lies west of Govind Chowk. As you move northwards, you will come across a river bed. Just follow the river and it will lead you to the bottom of the hill leading to Chanarbhoga.
As I followed the river to its origin, the ditches in between and the cool flowing water kept the heat away. Though the heat was scorching till I got to the river, it dropped down by at least few degrees on entering the river bed.
One thing that pinched me was the rampant logging in the forest. It had eroded the hills towering over the river. I could imagine the condition had there been torrential rains. There would be a massive landslide in the area, in that case. The few trees remaining on the hills would not be able to hold the erosion.
But I see no solution to this problem. The people living in the vicinity are poor and landless. And their only source of income is the timber from the forest. They cut down the trees in spite of the so-called monitoring by the forest department and sell the wood in the nearby markets.
However, like every black cloud has a silver lining, the young trees sprouting out on the river bank seemed, would grow into a dense forest in near future.
As I neared the hill leading to Chanarbhoga, the river narrowed down further. I had never been to the place so had no idea – where to start climbing the hill. The group of men with the goat stayed back at the bank of the river to sacrifice the goat and prepare for the feast. I was all alone. The only thing I was tracking during the cycle ride was the highest peak among the hills. I was told that Chanarbhoga is somewhere near that peak.
Getting to the foothills of the highest peak, I chained my cycle to a young amaltash tree. Then I started climbing. The ascent was easy – no thorny plants and no rocky patches. I was comfortable on my pair of sandals.
The hills seemed bare – devoid of trees. It was also due to a recent forest fire. Everything had burnt down to ashes, turning the surrounding into a black and white frame. The area smelt of burnt charcoal and with the gushes of fresh air, the aroma of ash and soil brushed past my face.
Nearing the peak, I could see the beautiful scene below – the green fields, surrounding hills and bare tree trunks. Looking above, the walking trail was clear, being used by the woodcutters every day. The trees stood naked, some with few patches of newly spouted green leaves. Among them the Marmellous trees (wood apple, called bel in local language) looked distinct and they were in abundance in the area.
Reaping the benefits of the bel abundance in the forests, community members have started a bel juice factory in Lahan of Siraha district and Khata of Bardia district. The brand Marmellous was quite popular in Nepal’s domestic market and community members could earn extra income during the fruition period by collecting the fruits from forests and selling them to the factory.
There’s a huge potential to come up with a juice factory in the area looking at the bel trees. Once the communities will start benefitting from the bel trees, the felling down of these trees will be under control.
Leaving behind the bel trees, I moved up. As I neared the peak, the trail narrowed down and literally there was no way to get to the peak. I clambered clutching on the wild grass, the only thing clinging tightly to the rocks. However, I could not continue beyond a point where even the wild grass was nowhere to be seen. I managed to get hold of crevices and push myself up, but could not get beyond the point. The sight was dizzying looking down from the point. As I could not climb further, I lowered down, a step at a time. Then like King Robert’s spider, I tried once again climbing to the peak. But again got stuck at the same point.
With a feeling of a defeated warrior, disheartened, I trekked back to the bel trees. Luckily, I located a group of children with a goat in tow led by an old man whom I had met on my way to the foot of the hill. They were going in a different direction, but I was sure they were going to Chanarbhoga, to sacrifice the goat. So, I thought of following them.
I had not even walked for five minutes and the sight before me was baffling. I was stunned. The stones, pillars, bricks were scattered helter-skelter. The bricks, larger but thinner than normal bricks, were baked to perfection. The stone structures, square blocks, pillars, pedestals and columns with idols carved – all were lying unattended. Looking carefully at the columns, I could identify structures that seemed aiming with a bow, meditating and dancing. One huge round structure that could have served as a pedestal for a column, broken into three parts, was lying intact at a point. The structure was exactly like the one that I had seen at the Semnath temple (Sambhunath). I hadn’t believed when people said that the structures at Semnath were brought from Chanarbhoga. I could now compare them. They were obviously taken from Chanarbhoga to Semnath.
As I clicked the pictures of each and every stone that I could see in the surrounding, I came across a long column that could have been part of the entrance of an ancient temple. The stone structure had carving of idols in dancing, sitting and guarding poses. Nearby were other stone items with beautiful patterns. At a distance were two large triangular stones with beveled bottoms.
It was the first of Baishakh and I knew hordes of people must have flocked to Chanarbhoga to sacrifice goats. But nobody was there. I then followed the direction to which the group of kids and old man had gone. After walking for few minutes, I could hear sound of people talking. I kept heading to the direction.
I had to climb down the hill and pass through a gorge before I met groups of people picnicking at the dead end of the gorge. The old man who had led the kids was sitting at the bottom of the hill and the kids were pushing the black goat on a steep cliff. The kids told me to leave my sandals at the foothill before climbing to the shrine Chanarbhoga.
I followed the children. Though it was steep, I could hold on to the roots of trees and climbers to get to a cave-like dugout on the hills.
Inside, five stone structures were placed in a row. All the structures were blackened by the applying of mustard oil. Above the structures was a red cloth with white perimeter. A symbol of purity and divinity. On the front of the idols were clay lamps (diya), sweets (laddoo), incense sticks and flowers. At the side were clay pots (ghaila) meant for fetching water. There was a huge knife (dabiya), a clay bowl of rice (akshat), few bottles of mustard oil and a glass and lota (a brass tumbler) of water at one end.
The priest who hailed from Hardiya Kataiya, a village to the south of the highway, wore a kurta, dhoti and turban (pagari). He put the akshat and flowers on the head of the goat and sprinkled water on the goat. As the goat accepted the pariksha by moving its head throwing away the flower and rice, the priest left not a second to sacrifice it. Before sacrificing an animal or bird, they are asked whether they are ready for the sacrifice or not by putting rice, drops of water and flowers on their heads. As they nod their heads, it is taken as a green light for being ready for the sacrifice.
The boys carried the carcass down the hill and I merely followed them back to the foothill. I was parched due to the climbing without even a drop of water. So, I borrowed water from the team which was a good way to start conversation about the shrine.
Before the children could speak, the old man Amrit Lal Chaudhary (60 years) from nearby Khoksar village started telling about Chanarbhoga and myths surrounding it.
“Once a priest left his lota after worshipping and when he returned to get it back, he never returned. His friends only saw a small piece of his gamchha (a thin towel) wavering from a small crack in the temple. So never look back after you return having offered prayers and sacrifice to Chanarbhoga.”
“The idol at Sambhunath (Semnath) is originally from Chanarbhoga. The piece of rock was swept away from the Chanarbhoga temple and landed in Khando River. Seeing the abandoned piece of rock, shepherds started sharpening their knives on it. However, it started bleeding like a living thing.
Later in dream of a man from the Sambhunath area, Semnath asked him to take him to the place where He is established right now.
The villagers came in group with drums and musical instruments. But He didn’t budge from the place when they loaded him on a bullock cart. He moved only when they used a baby playing cart.”
After hearing the stories of Chanarbhoga, I had two choices – to return via the same route or to follow the children. I decided to follow the children, though it was the tougher one.
It was a narrow passage between two hills – a gorge which is filled with water during the rainy season. Luckily, it was dry and we could easily walk along the path. On the way, I encountered few of the pieces of carved rocks from Chanargbhoga. Now, I believe, how the rocks might have been swept away down to the Khando River. The passage is very narrow and the rapid current of water can even sweep away big boulders.
At places, there were deep ditches of water – some even having shoulder-deep water. At those places, we had to climb up the hill. With no trails, we kept forward clutching the roots of trees and climbers. And the children were quicker than me! To climb up and slide down the rocky patches.
Then at a place we came across a perfectly round stone. Most probably swept away from Chanarbhoga. As we were nearing the place I had chained my cycle to, I took a picture of the boys who led me throughout the journey. One of the boys was wearing a t-shirt with an interesting graffiti – “I am a GOOD person with BAD attitude” and his friend was sporting a Gangnam Style tee.
Finally, I was at my start point. I unchained the cycle and sped towards my villagers who were feasting somewhere at the bank of the river. I saw many groups of people cooking the meat of the sacrificed goats. Unfortunately, I could not find them. I missed a chance to savour the feast. But the experience as a whole was unforgettable.
If you want to know more about Semnath (Sambhunath) and Chanarbhoga (Chandrabhgoa) and their affinity to the Sen kings, read my piece published in The Kathmandu Post.
The men were heading to Chanarbhoga – the Shira Than – where the guardian deity of many villages is supposed to dwell. Every year, the villagers collect money and buy a goat for the deity. Every village in the vicinity sacrifice a goat to make sure that the deity remains happy throughout the year and keeps away any outbreak of diseases and natural disasters happening in those villages. That’s the popular belief.
Having heard a lot about Chanarbhoga, called Chandrabhoga by Nepali speakers, I set off along with the team with the goat tied to the cycle. And aiding me in my trip was my favourite mountain bike with Shimano gears.
A mountain bike can be your best partner – to experience biking along the dry river bed during the March – April season. The once dense forest turns into withered, leafless trees and the climbers that sprawl the forest all the year round dries down. Thanks to the forest fire that occurs every year, the whole forest turns into a burnt, lifeless environ easing your climb to the hill-top.
There are two ways to reach Chanarbhoga. Either head north from the Govind Chowk a kilometre west of Rupani or move northwards from the Shambhunath Chowk (locally called Traffic) which lies west of Govind Chowk. As you move northwards, you will come across a river bed. Just follow the river and it will lead you to the bottom of the hill leading to Chanarbhoga.
One thing that pinched me was the rampant logging in the forest. It had eroded the hills towering over the river. I could imagine the condition had there been torrential rains. There would be a massive landslide in the area, in that case. The few trees remaining on the hills would not be able to hold the erosion.
But I see no solution to this problem. The people living in the vicinity are poor and landless. And their only source of income is the timber from the forest. They cut down the trees in spite of the so-called monitoring by the forest department and sell the wood in the nearby markets.
However, like every black cloud has a silver lining, the young trees sprouting out on the river bank seemed, would grow into a dense forest in near future.
As I neared the hill leading to Chanarbhoga, the river narrowed down further. I had never been to the place so had no idea – where to start climbing the hill. The group of men with the goat stayed back at the bank of the river to sacrifice the goat and prepare for the feast. I was all alone. The only thing I was tracking during the cycle ride was the highest peak among the hills. I was told that Chanarbhoga is somewhere near that peak.
Getting to the foothills of the highest peak, I chained my cycle to a young amaltash tree. Then I started climbing. The ascent was easy – no thorny plants and no rocky patches. I was comfortable on my pair of sandals.
There’s a huge potential to come up with a juice factory in the area looking at the bel trees. Once the communities will start benefitting from the bel trees, the felling down of these trees will be under control.
With a feeling of a defeated warrior, disheartened, I trekked back to the bel trees. Luckily, I located a group of children with a goat in tow led by an old man whom I had met on my way to the foot of the hill. They were going in a different direction, but I was sure they were going to Chanarbhoga, to sacrifice the goat. So, I thought of following them.
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| Semnath |
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| Structures at Semnath were brought from Chanarbhoga |
The boys carried the carcass down the hill and I merely followed them back to the foothill. I was parched due to the climbing without even a drop of water. So, I borrowed water from the team which was a good way to start conversation about the shrine.
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| Amrit Lal Chaudhary from Khoksar village |
“Once a priest left his lota after worshipping and when he returned to get it back, he never returned. His friends only saw a small piece of his gamchha (a thin towel) wavering from a small crack in the temple. So never look back after you return having offered prayers and sacrifice to Chanarbhoga.”
“The idol at Sambhunath (Semnath) is originally from Chanarbhoga. The piece of rock was swept away from the Chanarbhoga temple and landed in Khando River. Seeing the abandoned piece of rock, shepherds started sharpening their knives on it. However, it started bleeding like a living thing.
Later in dream of a man from the Sambhunath area, Semnath asked him to take him to the place where He is established right now.
The villagers came in group with drums and musical instruments. But He didn’t budge from the place when they loaded him on a bullock cart. He moved only when they used a baby playing cart.”
Finally, I was at my start point. I unchained the cycle and sped towards my villagers who were feasting somewhere at the bank of the river. I saw many groups of people cooking the meat of the sacrificed goats. Unfortunately, I could not find them. I missed a chance to savour the feast. But the experience as a whole was unforgettable.
If you want to know more about Semnath (Sambhunath) and Chanarbhoga (Chandrabhgoa) and their affinity to the Sen kings, read my piece published in The Kathmandu Post.
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