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Juhi Jhunjhunwala

The beggars and local shopkeepers live off the religious tourism here and lanes are dotted with souvenir shops. But Ayodhya is hardly your normal pilgrim centre.

The streets are brimming with pilgrims — men and women with their families, ascetics and godmen all have come from far-flung areas to pay their respects to their deity, Lord Rama. The beggars and local shopkeepers live off the religious tourism here. Lanes are dotted with small souvenir shops that sell photos of temples, shirts with religious prints, key-chains, bangles and what not. Sounds like a normal pilgrim centre. However, something sets this holy land apart from other places of pilgrimage.

And that is the unprecedented presence of police and security personnel. The feature of the town constantly reminds one of its violent past. Every little street leads to a temple, for this is a temple town with immense religious significance. Welcome to Ayodhya!

I have fond memories of Ayodhya, as I spent my childhood years in its sister city Faizabad. But my return to this town after 12 years was something altogether different. When I had booked the train tickets, I had plans to spend some time meeting my old friends in the city and maybe do a photo-feature on the fort-temples of the town. However, by the time I boarded the train, news was abuzz that the right-wing religious organisation, the Vishwa Hindu Parishad (VHP) was planning a big gathering of Rama-worshippers, also known as Ram-bhakts, to take the oath that they will die but build a temple at the disputed site. The police had sealed off the twin cities of Faizabad and Ayodhya.

No one was allowed to enter. Buses and trains were diverted. But I decided to carry on with my plans and reached Faizabad with the help of my uncle who arranged a pass for my travel.

I had to alight from the train at Lucknow, some 100 km from Faizabad. The drive from Lucknow to Faizabad normally takes about three hours owing to the heavy traffic on the narrow road. However, this time it took me only about an hour-and-a-half, for the roads were void of traffic. The only stops were those for security checks, which were abundant.

The Babri Masjid-Ram temple dispute is well known, and all aspects of it have been written about, debated, contested and disputed. Anyway, on December 6, 1992, a mob descended on the mosque and demolished it. Ever since, the issue has generated much unrest in the country, often leading to clashes between Hindus and Muslims. The dispute is now locked up with the courts.

My journey to the venue for the oath-taking ceremony was an ordeal in itself. The police would not let my car proceed towards Ayodhya. With a press card in tow, I was allowed to move ahead, but without the car! So I joined a group of media persons and we requested for a lift from an Army truck, which obliged. Soon we were all standing at the back of the truck! We were dropped off on the outskirts of Ayodhya and from there started a two-km trek to the venue — Karsevak Puram.

The stage had been set for taking an oath for the construction of a temple. The country was abuzz that Ram-bhakts would be staging a protest at the temple town. Their demand was to build a Ram temple where once the mosque stood. Thousands had gathered in and around the twin cities despite the administration's efforts to prevent their entry. Many had walked through the surrounding villages, along the railway tracks, on foot. Others sneaked in by swimming across the Sarayu river at night. Ram-sevaks were full of enthusiasm and were looking forward to the day's proceeding — a march for temple.

"I am here to support the temple issue. This is Ram's birthplace and thus we want a mandir," said Ramesh. "We just want a temple and it is legitimate. This land belongs to the Hindus and there is no question of leaving it with the Muslims," added Priyadarshan, who had come from Agra to participate in the proceedings. "I only want a temple. My son died in 1992 for the cause, his soul will rest in peace once the temple is constructed," said Karnla Behen, the bereaved mother of Kapil, who was killed in the melee following the destruction of the mosque in 1992.

"It's a do or die situation for us. Our demand for a temple is legitimate," said Keshav, another supporter.

Even the people of Ayodhya echo a similar sentiment. The locals here have been the worst sufferers of the temple movement. The tourism trade, their main means of subsistence, has been on a steep decline and day-to-day Hindu-Muslim clashes in the country generate a sense of insecurity for them.

"Frequent clashes are a problem for us; children cannot go to school and our shops are closed down," said Meera, a local resident. Others echo her sentiment and want an end to this dispute. But, not at the cost of the temple!

Picture by the author

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