Travel accounts of the vast Himalayan region that spans India, Nepal, China, Bhutan, Pakistan, Afghanistan and Tibet have proved to be a rich treasure trove for travellers, researchers, mountaineers, climate change experts, geologists, ecologists, as well as Hindu and Buddhist pilgrims, among sundry others.
Available data indicates that the earliest known travelogue about the Himalayas is likely an account by the Buddhist monk and traveller, Xuanzang (also known as Hiuen Tsang), in the 7th century, though his work focuses more on the routes through the region rather than being a modern-style travelogue. Other early accounts include those from early 8th-century monks, the travels of Adi Shankara around 800 CE, and the 17th-century journeys of Jesuit missionaries like Manuel Marques and Antonio de Andrade’.
The early 19th century detailed account of the Himalayas in two volumes titled, Travels in the Himalayan Provinces of Hindustan and the Panjab (1819-1925 ) by two Englishmen William Moorcroft, a veterinarian and the geographer George Trebeck, are fascinating documents of the Himalayan flora and fauna, the physical landscape, the interactions between the ‘natives’ and representatives of the East India Company that governed the Indian subcontinent till 1857. Understandably, the agenda of such explorations and travelogues was rarely about spiritual quests or socio-historical explorations. William Moorcroft had been informed that high breed horses, in probability Persian horses could be located in the Himalayan region, and it was specifically for this purpose that he had undertaken the journey that spanned a period of six years. Both the travellers died in 1825, and the manuscript of their travel account was acquired by the Asiatic Society in 1841. Another interesting travel account of this period is Among the Himalayas by Major L.A. Waddell and published in 1899 by Archibald Constable and Co, Westminster, London.
Expectedly, Somdatta Mandal’s expert English translation of Jaladhar Sen’s Himalay, first published as a book in 1900, serially published in the journal Bharati since 1893, is written in Bengali. It is essentially a chronicle of a month-long journey, narrated in the format of an informal diary, though dates are meticulously recorded. The English title is not a direct translation of the simple yet nuanced original Bengali title Himalay. In that case, it could be translated as The Himalaya, as Mandal does in her introduction. However, we find that the new English title in this publication is simple and descriptive- The Travels of a Sadhu in the Himalayas. Mandal informs her readers that prior to Sen’s travelogue in Bengali, two other Bengali travelogues of significance were published. The first was Jadunath Sarbadhikari’s Tirtha Bhraman (1865), followed by two travel accounts by missionaries of the order of Ramkrishna Mission in 1887 and 1839, respectively.
It is understood that the honorific sadhu is attributed to male ascetics and sages, who are considered to be distinguished spiritual thinkers and practitioners of the Hindu religion. They are known to preach and interpret religious dogmas, practice exoteric and esoteric religious norms and are widely regarded as preachers who have transcended their urge to live in a well-demarcated world of domesticity in a communitarian spirit of participation. Instead, ideally, the wise sadhus are regarded as reclusive individuals who have committed their lives to the intangible search for divinity as their spiritual mission.
Sen’s diary notes chronicle a period between 5 May 1890 to 8 June 1890, a few days more than a month of travel on foot through the Himalayan region, with two fellow sadhus, sometimes joined by pilgrims and others in quest of spiritual solace. Sen too is in quest of this spiritual succour, as his distressed soul suffers, mourns and longs for the loved ones he had lost all of a sudden. The death of his wife, mother and daughter in quick succession had a devastating impact on him. Sen was a writer, poet, editor and a philanthropist, a traveller, social worker, educationist, litterateur and was awarded the title, ‘Rai Bahadur’ by the British government.
The pages of Sen’s diary resonate with his voice till the very end of his narrative. Sen creates the impression of being a well-educated, cultured Bengali bhadralok, the ‘Rai Bahadur’ title slotting him rather well, though after the hurtful personal tragedy, he decides to abandon the lure of community life in search of peace for his aggrieved soul in distress. However, the diary does not track a journey that describes visions, spiritual flashes of some divine intervention, that could be regarded as a healing emollient emanating from the proximity to the abode of Gods. Instead, the diary foregrounds a sad, grieving man who wields the incisive spear of a rational mind, that sees through the antics and equivocations of fraudsters, thieves and dishonest priests as he journeys from one temple to another, situated in such revered locations as Devaprayag, Rudraprayag, Karnaprayag, Vishnuprayag, Joshimath and Badrinath.
It is interesting to notice that in both Moorcroft’s travelogues, written almost 80 years before Sen’s chronicle, Joshimath features in both as a tough terrain and yet as the gateway to the pilgrimage to Badrinath and Hem Kund. Joshimath seems relevant as this enchanting temple town is now very much in the news as it is slowly but steadily sinking as indiscriminate building of roads, hotels, resorts, and bridges have made the entire area dangerously fragile, a high-risk zone that is earthquake prone. In Sen’s travelogue, reference to Joshimath in superlative terms is truly noticeable.
Sen, who occasionally quotes excerpts from the poems of the Baul lyricist Kangal Harinath, whose book of poems he carries with him, also refers to English literature, specifically John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress, among others. Sen perhaps owes his liberated approach to the overwhelming spiritual mystique created by religious oral tradition, due to his familiarity with European literature and philosophy. So, referring to the overwhelming beauty of Joshimath, reaching which was so gruellingly arduous, Sen stated that many sadhus often made a detour, purposely avoiding a visit to the alluring Joshimath founded by Shankaracharya. Criticising this propensity, Sen writes in his chronicle, “If a place like Joshimath existed in Europe or America, countless scholars and educated youth with faith in religion would gather there every year…unfortunately, such possibilities seem absent in our country.”
Elsewhere, noticeably in the chapter that describes Narayan Darshan at Badrikashram, where, as Sen donates some money and is about to sign his name in Devanagari, the Mahanta curtly states, “If you write in English, the value of your signature will be even greater.”
Sen’s soul-searching discourse about his faith, his doubts, his indignation about the pretentiousness of the sadhus, posing as emissaries of the divine, is an integral part of this diary of 259 pages. While accepting the fact that he had donned the garb of an ascetic, who is typically known to have delinked himself from samsara, the immersion into a life of domesticity, Sen did not claim that he could engage in a dialogue with God, unlike many sadhus. In fact, Sen states with remarkable candour, “I was neither pious, nor a sadhu.” Sen repeatedly states in his diary that it was difficult for him to accept that he was a stereotypical sadhu with divine awareness, just because he was travelling with sadhus, who were his co-travellers in his Himalayan odyssey.
Significantly, Sen noticed that the sadhus were no different from ordinary people who had no curiosity in discovering the unknown, no appreciation of the splendorous Himalayan ecosystem, its serene woods and forests, the trickling fountains, the confluence of rivers, Prayag, as it is termed. Nor did the sadhus, who can be described as professional sadhus, have any empathy for the devotees who had endured immeasurable hardship to reach the remote temples. The endless streams of devotees visited the temples and donated their hard-earned money, seeking spiritual fulfilment and the benediction of God. However, Sen remarks with unmistakable irony that the leaders of the maths, the missionaries, squandered the donations of the devotees, “satisfying their desires and living in luxury.”
Though travelling with several sadhus and observing the sadhus on their pilgrimage to the seat of God, the imposing Himalayas, Sen records that the sadhus were unable to transcend pettiness, greed, selfishness, cruelty and intolerance and quite noticeably lacked empathy and compassion. Many sadhus were thieves and pilferers, and they were insincere, dishonest and avaricious. They even skipped pages as they read the holy books aloud, for the benefit of the devotees.
The diary has a number of remarkable passages of introspection and self-analysis, that makes this diary stand out as a document that resonates with deep philosophic perception and spiritual awakening. This indeed is the hallmark of Sen’s diary that chronicles a month-long journey into the remote parts of the Himalayas, describing temples big and small, some neglected, some abandoned, while some others stood out in their splendorous display of pilgrim footfall, the priests, pandas, dharmsalas and chatis, all playing a role in this subtly organised pursuit of faith.
So in a self-deprecating mood of annoyance, Sen states, “ with impoliteness in our hearts and tremendous ego in our heads, we dressed as sadhus…” but lacked love and empathy for others. His Himalayan pilgrimage convinces Jaladhar Sen that God did not reside within the temples that were under the control of mostly dishonest priests who masqueraded as God’s ambassadors. Sen states with conviction and courage, “Was I truly travelling, without proper food, shelter or rest, making such tremendous effort simply to see some ruined temples and old idols of God?”
Thereafter, Jaladhar Sen defines unhesitatingly, his moment of self -realisation and liberation of his spirit from the mundane coils of self-centred human life as he writes, “The bare beauty of the mountains, the varied natural scenery, the silvery flow of mountain streams, and the soothing effect of the cool breeze- these were the gods I worshipped.”
In the introduction to the Travels of a Sadhu in the Himalayas, the translator states that Sen’s diary is among the ‘earliest secular texts’ that inspired the publication of more such travelogues in the course of time. The oxymoronic impact of the secular sadhu’s travels in the Himalayas is unmistakable.
It is small wonder that Jaladhar Sen’s travelogue Himalay, first published in 1900, almost 125 years ago, fascinated Bengali readers and motivated many to explore the alluring Himalayan region. Somdatta Mandal’s English translation, The Travels of a Sadhu in the Himalayas ( 2025) of Jaladhar Sen’s Himalay will be a valuable addition to travel studies, cultural studies and translation studies.
Spotlight
The Travels of a Sadhu in the Himalayas
By Jaladhar Sen
Translated by Somdatta Mandal
Publisher: Speaking Tiger, New Delhi, 2025
Price: Rs 317, 239 pages
