CNN Central News & Network–ITDC India Epress/ITDC News Bhopal: “We are boatmen, and even Kevat did not spare Lord Ram, asking Him for a fee.” With these words, the boatman humorously doubled his fare at the end of the journey but left an indelible mark on our hearts.
At first glance, he seemed like an ordinary middle-aged man, uneducated and forgettable. But as the boat glided along the river’s current, his words and demeanor began leaving an impression on us. This Kevat was no ordinary boatman—he was a walking philosopher, a scholar of life’s book without having attended school.
Despite being illiterate, he was proficient in 13 languages. Observing his passengers, he would choose the language and topic of conversation that best suited them. A guide, historian, philosopher, environmentalist, visionary, and psychologist—he understood tourists’ motives just from their mannerisms and tailored his approach accordingly.
I am talking about the Triveni Sangam in Prayagraj, Uttar Pradesh, where the rivers Ganga, Yamuna, and the invisible Saraswati converge. A holy city in eastern Uttar Pradesh, Prayagraj is one of the four locations for the Kumbh Mela. According to mythology, drops of nectar spilled at these sites during the churning of the ocean, making them sacred.
I have always been fascinated by rivers and enjoy wandering along their banks, observing people, understanding local culture, and indulging in regional cuisine. Watching the river flow and letting my thoughts drift with the current is a meditative experience for me. This time, my journey to Triveni Sangam was made special by the profound wisdom of this anonymous Kevat.
When we boarded the boat, I asked for his name. He replied philosophically, “What’s in a name, Madam? Even the dacoit Ratnakar became Rishi Valmiki by chanting ‘Mara-Mara.’ Look at my work, not my name.” He wanted to keep his skills and talent unbound by any name, and his interpretation was both unique and profound.
As the sun rose, its rays reflected on the river, creating a shimmering beauty that captivated me. The wide, dark waters of the Yamuna were bustling with boats. Pilgrims and tourists, each with their own purpose, chose boats and companions for the journey. Many came for ancestral rites or immersion ceremonies, carrying a sense of detachment. The local Awadhi and Bagheli dialects filled the air with a comforting melody.
Rivers in India are not just sources of water but also spiritual lifelines. Our three-hour boat journey with this Kevat turned into an unforgettable experience. When one passenger dipped his feet into the water, the boatman gently admonished him, “Sir, first pay your respects before bathing.” His concern for the environment was genuine, not just sentimental.
He suddenly called out, “Come, come!” Birds gathered around the boat as he scattered grains into the water. He fed some to the fish, too, saying, “Ganga is our mother, and we are all her children—humans, birds, fish, and the river itself. We must nurture each other to survive.” His philosophy could be summed up in his words, “To restore the Earth, we must invest in it.”
As we approached the Sangam, the distinct waters of the Ganga and Yamuna became visible. The local arrangements added a festive touch with colorful flags fluttering on the banks and boats. When someone pointed out a saffron flag on a boat, the Kevat calmly remarked, “The only flag I recognize is the tricolor.” His impartial response was remarkable.
The Kevat’s wisdom extended beyond his environment. He shared stories of how the Ganga’s milky waters and the Yamuna’s reddish hues change with the seasons. He then asked, “Madam, what does science say about why these waters don’t mix?” His curiosity about the scientific basis behind traditions was astounding.
He corrected a fellow passenger who referred to a fort as Akbar’s. “That’s Ashoka’s Fort,” he explained, detailing its history and Akbar’s renovations. His knowledge was as deep as the river beneath us.
As we reached the Sangam, the serenity of the rivers blended with the simplicity of human interactions. The three of us sisters offered prayers, sipping the sacred water and feeling immense gratitude for nature’s majesty and humanity’s simplicity. The boatman’s words reminded us that overwhelming success often overshadows basic human virtues.
During a ritual, when a priest asked a devotee for his family lineage and son’s name, the absence of a son saddened the man. The Kevat responded with timeless wisdom: “Goddesses like Parvati, Sita, and Lakshmi did not have brothers, yet they lacked nothing. Why should anyone feel incomplete?” His ancient knowledge presented in a modern context left everyone spellbound.
At the conclusion of the journey, the Kevat spoke again: “Madam, Ganga and Yamuna’s waters never merge. Their distinct colors tell their own story.” His words reflected a blend of curiosity, reverence, and a deep connection with both nature and science.
As we offered diyas into the river, I closed my eyes and prayed: “Tamso Ma Jyotirgamaya—Mother, cleanse my soul as you flow, and illuminate my inner self.”
This journey wasn’t just a physical one but a profound lesson in gratitude, humility, and harmony with nature, guided by the wisdom of an extraordinary boatman.
#TriveniSangam #KevatStory #IndianHeritage #SpiritualJourney
