Romancing the Gods!

Born in a country, where people worship multiple gods and goddesses, blindly following a faith certainly becomes easy. Brought up by Arya Samaji parents, being educated in a Catholic school, grown up in a Muslim neighborhood and being the grand-daughter of one of the most well-known Vishwa Hindu Parishad ‘karya karta’ (worker), I for all people shouldn’t be the one doubting His existence. But that’s the way things are “abundance of anything loses its relevance in our lives”. Apart from being christened, Pooja (prayer) by my grandmother, I have had little if not no association with God till now. Worshiping and thanking Him for his blessings unquestionably comes reasonably down on my daily to-do list, surely second last if not last. And by the time I go to bed, I certainly am no exception to the rule; I am too exhausted by the daily chores to be able to complete the last couple of things. And, so I miss thanking Him, every day!

 “Come on Pooja, chill-out and relax. How much time will you waste preparing for a job interview, which you actually don’t care about”, I told myself as I lazed in a friend’s apartment in Chennai, waiting for the interviewer’s call. Having waited for over an hour, I told myself, if I am destined (that’s what we Indians leave most of our things on - Destiny) to work for this firm, I’ll surely make it, even if I answered the call from the bustling streets of Mylapore. So having full faith in my destiny, without a second thought, I picked up my sling bag, pulled out cash from my suitcase, hung my camera and hired an auto rickshaw for a fixed fair of hundred rupees straight from T-Nagar to Kapaleeshwarar Temple, Mylapore.

Mylapore, ‘the land of the peacock screams’ as it means in Tamil, has today turned out from the seventh century abode of peacocks into an extremely busy community centre. In spite of being in the heart of the most populous metropolitan city in India, this region comes out as a small temple town in itself. It houses the seventh century Dravidian style Shiva temple overlooking a huge tank which is surrounded by hundreds of small shops, selling everything from a needle to the most ostentatious jewellery and clothes.

As I walked past the lively market place brimming with activities, I crossed several hoardings claiming to book ‘darshans’ or a personal meeting (or ‘puja’ as they say) with the Gods but the amount of time He’ll spend with you, will surely be proportional to your pocket’s depth. While I mock at this very thought, from a distance I heard pundits calling out and promising to perform some special ‘pujas’ at the temple hall to free you from sins and guilt, helping make space for some new. They ascertain of having a special link with the Almighty and could get you a new more lucrative job or if you are still unsatisfied, even your boss’s demotion, provided you pay their desired fee. While this idea surely pleases me, and I smirk at the very thought- Oh people! What all can you do in the name of God!

Walking across Mylapore’s crowded street, I wonder, if the Almighty had been answering the prayers of the extra payers first, and that being the reason for my wishes just getting lined up. While still deeply absorbed in my thoughts, I am stopped by a shopkeeper selling Bhajan CDs and DVDs. Without wasting a second he boasts, “This is the only shop in the vicinity, selling latest Hollywood and Bollywood bajans”. I give him a perplexed uninformed look and contemplate, from when did Hollywood start producing bhajans? He seemed to have read my mind, and instantaneously played his latest collection; Bryan Adam’s strumming in the ‘Summer of 69’, to the lyrics of some Sanskrit Shlok. Being a die-heart Adam fan, I control my emotions and pretend of enjoying this ‘Shlok Collection’. While still upset with this concoction, I hurriedly stepped out of the disorganized congested shop, telling the shopkeeper that I will definitely buy a copy on my way back. Before he could press me any further, I add “in case the demand of this album unexpectedly picks up in the next one hour, ensure you keep a spare copy for me”. What a lie it was!!

Finally, I reach the entrance of the magnificent temple dedicated to ‘Kapal’ – head ‘eeshwara’ – God, i.e. head of God’s Shiva. At the entrance sat a couple of talkative old women, needle weaving jasmine and rose garlands for the lords. I happened to have an eye contact with one of them and she exclaimed “Rupees hundred for the garland and prasadam and your chapels (footwear) will be taken care for free”. Even before, I could utter a word of disagreement and bargain the price, one of them compellingly hands me a prearranged basket containing- flowers, a small mud lamp, packets of vermillion and turmeric and some prasadam and instructs me to pay her on my return. Though I was the smarter one at the CD shop for not getting into the trap but here this uneducated woman, who had been sharpened by her experiences in life, outsmart me. Ten rupees worth of stuff for hundred, aroused the entrepreneur in me, what margins I thought!  And here I was standing at the entrance of the temple, with a basket full of flowers in my hand – an offering to the Gods, which I had always detested and never done in my life.

Carvings on the Temple's entrance

The temple’s massive entrance gate was adorned with beautiful engravings of animals, birds, peacocks, and both devil and deities. I truly didn’t understand their significance there and unconsciously tried figuring out a link. With my eyes still glued onto the gateway, I walked into the temple, not realizing that I was heading into a sea of people who came towards me from the opposite side. There are very few days in life when you learn something new every moment, and this day truly was at its teaching best! In our journey of life, there are no sign boards directing us on the path to choose; but they surely were at the temple entrance which I had missed. While I walked ahead amidst my thoughts, I heard a coarse voice from behind abusing me “Are you illiterate and blind to be entering from the wrong side”. For a while I got annoyed, but without reacting I revisited the path undertaken, paused, stepped back and changed the course to reach my goal.

The temple was a crowded ocean, with fish swimming their way around. In spite of being crammed full, there was a sense of calmness in the place. Chants of Shiva! Great Shiva! filled the air. Being the time for evening prayers Shiva’s idol was placed on a chariot, shoulder held by a dozen pundits who took it around the temple. It’s believed that only the luckiest few get a chance to witness this sacred procession, which happens once a year and I surely was the chosen one. Once the chats ended, the crowd dispersed and quickly lined up at the door outside the Garbhgrah to individually pay homage now. I was confused. After several unsuccessful attempts trying to crane my neck at different angels to get a glimpse of the Lord, I finally decide to join the serpentine queue, mostly lined up with women both young and old. Standing in the queue I contemplated, “are women the ones committing the maximum sins and are here to ask for forgiveness or the ones with the maximum wants”. Reflecting on this weird thought, I smirked and introspected to find out the category I belonged.

Standing amidst devotes – some rich, some not so blessed with the materialistic well being and some differently-able, all I could see were content and blissful faces. Life is full of hardships, it’s a bumpy ride for each one of us, some fight alone while others choose to find support in the superpower and idols, which they called God. The smile on their faces and the sparkle in their eyes conveyed that their prayers would at least be heard, if not granted today. They had full faith in Him. Faith.

Amongst this humongous crowd, I seemed to be the only one so skeptical and doubting His existence or were there more people like me in this queue, witnessing this transformation? Seldom people seemed to be at peace with themselves or possibly that’s how I perceived things today. Perhaps because it was for the first time in my life, I had left everything on destiny, if not God.

My contemplation was interrupted by a push from behind, and the entire serpentine queue swayed like a twig in the wind, and within moments the happy content faces transformed into a race madly running after things. My calm mind was within moments flooded with thoughts of disgust and irritation as I failed to figure out the rationale why people always had a time crunch and rushed after things. Or maybe I am the only one in my genre who is out of the mind and is bombarded with misleading thoughts of peace, love and tranquility.

Even after the push, the line moved forward at snail’s pace. After an hour’s wait, I finally moved to the head of the queue and waited patiently for my chance. Never before in my life, had I seen people so desperate to get just a glimpse. While being pushed from either side, I wondered, “maybe this mad rush was due to this special occasion”, but I was wrong. Shiva, ‘the destroyer’ or ‘the transformer’, is amongst one of the most worshiped Hindu Gods and was told that the temple witnessed this mad rush every day, not once but five times a day, at the time of the ‘pujas’.

After waiting for an hour, finally, I was pushed in front of the Garbhgrah from where I saw the magnificent bronze statues of Goddess Karpagambal (Parvati) with Lord Kapaleeshwara (Shiva). The golden statues were beautifully adorned with the vibrant orange fire-crackle flowers, Crossandra or Kanakambaram, as they are commonly called. The vibrant colors of the orange halo bordered with white jasmine flowers, is still fresh in my mind. While one priest performed Aarti with a big fire lamp, another rang a bell and the third placed the offering from the devotees inside the Garbhgrah. The three priests flawlessly executed their assigned chores and demonstrated unflinching love towards God.

Whilst some people stood humbled and bowed down in-front of the Almighty, others chanted praises while the remaining tried influencing the fourth priest, whom I had missed noticing, for a better view. The picture of the place had hardly sunk in, that within seconds, a pundit literally grabbed and pulled the basket of flowers which I was carrying and offered it to the God. Even before I could react, the pundit gave me a disgusted look and exclaimed, ‘no money in the offering, what a miser you are!’ Though my mind was calm and quite till now, his remarks aggravated my annoyance apart from the constant pulling and pushing and I thought, if I want to romance Him, let it be only Him and not these self-appointed God’s middlemen.

I stared into his shameless eyes with disgust, nodded my head left to right - the typical Indian way of saying that this is wrong and you’ll be punished for this. Then I stepped back, and looked at the deity one last time, as if complaining for his act, and started walking down the ramp. On my way down, I noticed a blue board with instructions in bold white “Non-Hindus not permitted beyond this point” and I wondered from when did God started differentiating between people based on religion. Instead of being more calm and composed for successfully visiting one of the most worshipped temples in the city, my mind was now more troubled with thoughts of discrimination, donations and cheating.

Saddened, I just kept walking down. From a distance I could hear, the priest shooing away devotees, ‘move out, walk fast, there are thousands of people in the queue’. Yes, there are thousands in the queue and they will always be. Nobody wants to confront these God’s middlemen, because they have a closer connection with Him you know. Stepping down from the ramp, I wondered of what I should do with the ash which the Tartuffe priest repulsively gave me as His blessing. While others dutifully spread it across their forehead, it wasn’t meant for me. I just silently walked out, crossed the road, brushed my hands and turned for one last look at the mighty Kapaleeshwar temple. From a distance, I admired the picturesque scene - the temple’s silhouette, the setting sun, and the women still needle weaving the jasmine flowers whose sweet smell filled the air. Chants of Shiva, the sound of Conch and the temple bells at a distance was pleasing to my ears. There couldn’t be a more ideal place to calm and relax my senses, hadn’t the excessive commercialization swallowed away its soul.

Kapaleshwar Temple, Mylapore, Chennai