“Do you see that gigantic face there? We call it India’s Mount Rushmore. And that sadhu on the top — he was in samadhi for so long that he turned into stone himself. And that is Bandar Kudni , the cliffs are so close here that a monkey can jump across to the other side.”
The boatman has been pointing at various abstract stone formations for a while now. Every time he raises his arm, about 30 heads follow him. Some squint to locate the face, the ascetic, the car, or some such form, some nod in agreement even before they can turn their heads, and some, like me, do nothing — apart from absorbing the moment.
We are sailing in the waters of the Narmada along a five-kilometre stretch called Bhedaghat, marked by marble cliffs, deep gorges, and magnificent views; it is often referred to as the Grand Canyon of India.
Only this canyon has a river. “This is easily the most beautiful place in India. I come here often. These towering rocks, the deep river, and the ever-evolving landscape show me how small I am compared to Nature,” Vinay Kumar, who is on the boat with us, tells me, looking out at the cliffs. Unlike others, he is not interested in spotting faces or taking pictures, but in the deeper, philosophical experience of the visit.
Barely 25 kilometres away from the town of Jabalpur, Bhedaghat lies in the heart of India. And yet, it is not known to many. That is also, perhaps, why the place is still clean, quiet, and untouched by the trappings of modern-day tourism.
- Bhedaghat is about 25 kilometres from Jabalpur. Taxis, buses and private autos can get you there. Dhuandhar Falls is located a few kilometres from the marble rocks.
- It is best to stay at Jabalpur and do a day trip to the twin attractions of Bhedaghat and Dhuandhar. Should you choose to stay at Bhedaghat overnight you can book at the MPTDC hotel, Motel Marble Rocks.
- Due to the massive volume of water, boating at Bhedaghat is closed between July and October. It is said that the rocks are best witnessed on a moonlit autumn night when the marble rocks gleam and the Narmada glistens. Summer can get too hot and the level of water may go down too.
It is not easy to locate Bhedaghat though, especially if you have not been there before. The only markers are a row of tea stalls and a steep flight of stairs.
The stairs lead to the river bank with a small ghat for bathing; boats are stationed a little distance away. Decked in bright colours and bold prints, these boats take you into a world unreachable by foot and we are in one such boat now, listening to the stories of the young captain.
The water is still, the air cool. The only sound is the buzz of the boat’s engine, and witty remarks of the boatman. “Let the stillness of the water not fool you. It is over 600 feet deep and just a few kilometres down, it transforms into a roaring fall,” Shikha, a local, tells me when I comment at the calmness of the Narmada.
Rows of vendors line a wide cemented path. Some have marble artefacts on display; some are selling faux jewellery; yet others have caps, toys, and cheap sunglasses on offer. There is no sign of water anywhere, but one can hear a constant buzz. Dhuandhar defies everything I have experienced at Bhedaghat.
Only a few kilometres away from the inconspicuous marble rocks, the place is buzzing with people. There are families and youngsters, tourists and locals, vendors and hawkers, but still no sign of the river.
“You can hear the fall from a distance, but you have to make an effort to see the magic of Narmada at Dhuandhar,” Shikha, who we meet here, tells me smiling, even as she leads the way. Bhedaghat and Dhuandhar are also known for marble idols of Hindu deities that are made locally by the villagers.
We cross puddles and pass people, walk over tiny bridges and steps to arrive at the ‘viewing spot’. Scores of others are already gathered here, posing for pictures, pouting for selfies, and hanging from the railing. We wait rather impatiently for our turn.
As I step on to the narrow plinth, eventually, I see what Shikha had meant on the boat.
The docile river of Bhedaghat has indeed transformed into a raging force at Dhuandhar. It is white and frothy, rambling and roaring. It brims over stones, winds about the rocks, bubbles into bays.
The speed is heady, the drop is steep, and as the water crashes down the 98-foot cliff, it creates a massive cloud of droplets, the dhuan , which not only gives the fall its name, but also engulfs everyone in its enchanting mist.
