I had a different morning today and I want to share the experience with you. My Chitti (tamil for maternal aunt) was shifting base from the chaos of Delhi to the serenity of the Deccan countryside and felt that a farewell dinner was appropriate to bid goodbye to friends and family. Staying over at her place after the feast, we decided to visit the nearby Lord Krishna temple the next morning to attend the daily bath given to the deity (these deities are lucky, aren't they? People flocking to see you getting clean every morning!). Having overcome the temptation of a longish sleep, we set out in the wee hours of the morning. A brisk walk reached us to the temple that was getting bathed in the slight drizzle that had started.
My chitti tells me that the temple opens to a small group of loyal followers every morning, who wait patiently in prayer and reverance for the main door of the sanctum sacntorum to be opened. People then assemble on both sides of a steel frame that leads to the main shrine where the deity resides, resplendant in the 'Vastram' (dress) and 'Kavacham' (ornaments) of the previous day.
And that's how things unfolded. Before long we were witnessing the meticulous morning bath. First, a thick lyer of sandal applied on the previous day was peeled off. Then came a bucket of water. As the droplets clinging to the stone idol caught the light of the hanging lamp and twinkled, a dollop of white butter came along. This was followed by coconut water, a handful of turmeric, another glass of coconut water and, finally, 3-4 glasses of milk. Throughout this rigourous procedure, performed every single morning of the year, chants of 'Narayana Narayana' (one of the plethora of names of Lord Vishnu) resonated in the Sanctorum.
Strings of devotional songs wafted in as the devotees began their 'Pradarshanam' (which involves going around a deity a specific number of times, the number varying with belief, sub-class and sub-sub-class). The fragrance of jasmine incense diffused into the moisture from the just-stopped drizzle created what looked like the heaven that one used to find in old Bollywood movies. Applying 'Vibhuti' (sacred ash) on the forehead (wither a dot or a horizontal/vertical rod, again a function of aforementioned delicate differences!) and praying fervently before each idol, wishful of good things in the future or asking for forgiveness, the devotees make their way out. All this was interspersed by loud (but never jarring) smashes of coconuts in a specially constructed inclined stone vessel, the coconuts symbolic to obstacles in life (this might also have started as a stress-buster. A much better alternative to the senseless destruction of television sets and glass items that I read about pretty often).
Outside the inner sanctorum, devotees walked in peacefully as the temple staff went about its daily chores in full devotion. A small boy was busy solving algebra problems sitting in the mandap, alongside a group of women chanting hymns.
Spending peaceful time in a Hindu religious place without being hassled for donations and the like was refreshing, especially after some unforgettable experiences in Vrindavan and Mathura (where every corner is claimed as the Lord's janmasthan!). All in all, a wonderful experience.
