In the year 1928, a young Bengali traveler by the name of Umaprasad Mukhopadhyay journeyed up to Hardwar and Rhishikesh at the foot of the Garhwal Himalayas, in the state now known as Uttaranchal. From there, he embarked on a 300-mile walk through the mountains to the shrine of Kedarnath, one of the most venerated temples of Lord Shiva in the Indian subcontinent. The journey was long and arduous and had to be covered almost wholly on foot. The young traveler was so entranced by experience, that he returned many times to these sacred mountains, which now had become for him an abiding obsession. Not only was our young traveler energetic enough to tramp the steep mountain trails, he was also an impeccable record keeper. From his extensive journals emerged the first systematic accounts of the romance of the five temples dedicated to Lord Shiva, or the Panch Kedar. The original publication entitled ‘Panch Kedar’ is written in the Bengali vernacular and dates back to 1968. It was the first introduction of the Panch Kedar to the general populace. The myth about the origin of the Kedar shrines has, however, been common knowledge for many years. After the epic battle of Kurukshetra, as recounted in the Mahabharata, the clan of the Pandavas, although victorious in battle, was shattered. The slaughter on the battlefield and their culpability in the deaths of their relatives had taken its toll. They longed for expiration. In their remorse they appealed to Lord Shiva for forgiveness. But the Lord was not to be won over so easily. In his effort to shake off the Pandavas, he transformed himself into a bull and tried to disappear underground in the abode of eternal snow, the Himalayas. The Pandavas, however, were also a tenacious lot. Bhima, the strongest among them, seeing their quarry burrowing into the ground, threw himself at the receding hind quarters of the bull and clung on begging to be absolved of their crimes. This impassioned appeal for forgiveness even the good Lord could not deny, and he froze in his tracks with parts of his body visible above the ground. The Pandavas built shrines in commemoration at the places where the Lord was visible. His hind quarters can be seen at the shrine of Kedarnath; his face at Rudranath; his forearms at Tungnath; his midriff at Madmaheshwar and tresses at Kalpeshwar. Shiva granted the Pandavas absolution; and thus the five temples of Kedar were established. The temple stands on mountain ridges and alpine pasturelands of Garhwal, an area in the Indian Himalayas which the mountaineer Frank Smythe called ‘the most beautiful place on earth’. The people of Garhwal call their land Dev Bhoomi or abode of the Gods. The temples stand at altitudes that vary from 3,000 m to 3,600 m. Tungnath at 3,600 m is the highest of the five and is also the highest Shiva temple in the world. Bridle paths and mountain trails link the shrines and pass through some of the most enchanting mountain landscapes anywhere in the world. The trails traverse altitudes from 800 m to 4,000 m. Some areas are snowed in during winter and remain completely inaccessible. The paths leading to the temples usually commence deep in the gorges and then ascend up forested hill slopes. After climbing beyond the tree line at 2,800 m to 3,000 m, they enter alpine pastures where most of the shrines are located. The exception is Kalpeshwar, which nestles in a valley at 1,800 m. When we talk of the temples of Kedar, a point to remember is that two of the five, i.e., Rudranath and Kalpeshwar, do not have a temple edifice. In these two shrines, the Deity stands enclosed in a brick hut as at Rudranath or inside a natural cave as at Kalpeshwar. Kedarnath, Madmaheshwar and Tungnath have impressive temple edifices made from granite. The structures in all probability date from the time of Shankaracharya (AD 788) and are all over a thousand years old. The site of the original temple built by the Pandavas (probably 5,000 years ago) cab still be identified at Kedarnath; but the temple as it stands today is probably from the time of Shankaracharya. Much has changed in the Garhwal Himalayas since the time of Umaprasad’s first visit and the legacy of the Panch Kedar is eroding rapidly. The road-head has reached Gaurikund from where Kedarnath is little over a day’s work. Tungnath and Chandrashila peak are a day’s excursion from Chopta, which again is easily accessible by road. Kalpeshwar is half a day’s work from the village of Helang by the Alaknanda river on the highway to Joshimath. Only the shrines of Rudranath and Madmaheshwar remain pristine. A road-head which is far away from the temple and an arduous three day hike up the steep mountain trail, has protected both from the casual visitor. My travels to these shrines started almost thirty years ago. Since my first visit, I have returned year after year drawn by some strange compulsion which I learned to accept as the years went by. I have often wondered whether Umaprasad felt the same way since, he too returned many times to the Kedars. I have walked in his footsteps during these years... and each time I have stood on the portals of a Kedar shrine I have been overcome by the same deja vu that I experienced the first time I stood there. Some say these are memories of past lifetimes; and may be they are. Mountains do not part with their secrets easily. Many a time I have toiled up to some high pass or ridge, only to find the peaks I had come to photograph had drawn their veil on clouds around them. Bitterly disappointed, I had vowed to return the next year and return I did, till some of them yielded their secrets. I remember coming back to the alpine meadows of Adi Maheshwar three times before I could get an acceptable image of the snow mountain Chaukhamba towering behind the cairn of stones, which was the shrine of Adi Maheshwar. I firmly believe now, that mountains only reveal their form when they want to. My favourite images were gifted to me by no other than the mountains themselves. I just happened to be there with my camera. The collection of photographs presented here has been garnered over a period of twenty five years during my travels in the Garhwal Himalayas. During this time much has changed. The surroundings of the shrines, my fellow travelers, my camera equipment and most of all my own consciousness have gone through a gradual process of metamorphosis. Only the temples have stood timeless and inviolate for a thousand years. Although the myth of the five temples of Shiva in the Garhwal Himalayas is relatively common knowledge in Hindu religious lore, I feel the significance of the shrines (like many others in history), goes far beyond common mythology. The journey to the Panch Kedar is a commemoration of magical places. It is the proverbial alembic of the alchemist, where the base metal of our everyday consciousness is turned into transcendent gold. The traveler who has frequented these places always returns with the knowledge that he has stood at the portals of the ‘Presence’. The Kedars are examples of places where men have experienced the ineffable. They built the shrines and placed symbols of stones in grottos and caves in commemoration of this experience. Over time, these places ‘evolved’ into temples. Around some of them little townships have sprung up, often crowded with man and his artefacts. Here the worshippers are legion, but the Worshipped has retreated to the mountains. Some of the shrines, however, stand pristine and untouched, as they were a thousand years ago. This book is an invitation to a journey through these places. I hope I have been successful in distilling some of the magic from these amazing places into these little rectangles of celluloid film. If these images strike a chord in my viewers, a chord of ancient recognition, of paradise regained then my mission is accomplished. Debal Sen