Haridwar and Rishikesh

Shiva at entrance to Haridwar

Arrived in Haridwar at 8.30am, dropped my bag at a tourist office/hotel and went straight to bathe in the Ganges beside Hari-Ki-Ghat (literally meaning the feet of God), considered the most auspicious place to bathe here. Since Haridwar is where the Ganges leaves the mountains to flow down to the great plains below, I was told it would be cold. It was a little cold, but swimming in summer in Ireland is miles colder.

Main Bathing Ghat, Hari-Ki -Pauri

Haridwar, meaning ‘Gateway to God” and is also known as  Hardwar. The nuance in spelling reflects the preference of Vaishnava and Shaivite understanding of God as Vishnu ( ‘Hari’) or as   Shiva (Har).

Haridwar is one of four  sacred sites where the Kumbha Mela (pitcher festival) is held every 12 years (Prayag/Allahabad), Nasik and Ujjain are the others). The festival rotates between these four places with lesser celebrations every six years. The Kumba Mela story  describes how immortal nectar fell from the heavens at this place and I’d love to tell you about it, but alas I have not the time.

Spending only six hours in Haridwar, visiting places on a rickshaw, I decided to move on to Rishikesh as it promised to be closer to the mountains. That’s all I needed to hear and it’s only one hour away by bus. I am also acutely aware that my precious time in India is fast running out and am greedy to see as much as I can.

Everyone is bathing here

So, after my bus ran over someone on a motor cycle, (luckily only the bike got damaged), an angry mob gathering to adjudicate, and another bus rescuing me from stagnation, I arrived in Rishikesh and booked into a place just over looking the Ganges.

I am now in Rishikesh  racing to fill a few blanks before I leave for Badrinath  tomorrow at 4am. From there I hope to go to Kedarnath and then Gangotri and Gomukh, the source of the Ganges.

There are many variables involved in the time it will take to do this, not least the amount of rain that falls and possible landslides that could block roads. It lashed more heavily than I’ve yet seen rain lash this evening, so I hope all will be well higher up. It takes about 12 hours on a bus to get to Badrinath.

Lakshman Jhula Bridge Rishikesh

Rishikesh rests at the foothills of the big ones yet  even these hills  are huge and covered with forests and there’s a huge rocky Ganges gully crashing right through them. Raw …wild…beauty.

Rishikesh

It feels as if nature is in control here and not simply peeping through from pockets of respite from human hands here and there. And even though the Beatles since their Maharishi days have left a New Age legacy here, with lots of Western yoga people, yoga pants, massage, crystals, tarot cards, horoscopes, and meaningful conversations on ashram roof-tops everywhere, it is still a raw beautiful place.

For me mountains  force  ‘uplift’…..  physically and metaphysically and the lure of the real sky scrapers is almost palpable.  I cannot think of any more fitting place to journey towards a temple and hopefully I will visit Shiva in Kedarnath and Vishnu in Badrinatha and finally get to Gomukh.

Actually I’ve had to revise the order of my travel as now you need a permit to walk the 18kms to Gomukh. So temples first. So I will be off-line for a few days as I travel through the mountains.

Mother Ganga in Rishikesh

 

Calcutta to Navadwip

Howra by the Hooghly

The Hooghly river (its behind the tree)

Arrived in Calcutta 5am on Sunday 23rd morning, checked my bag into a cloakroom, booked a ticket for Navadwip (130 km north of Calcutta) and set off around the city to check out the book shops and any AC cafe I could find. Very hot and humid in Calcutta and mercifully I found an Art Deco Palace cafe called ‘Flurrys’ on Park Street which opened at 7.30 am. I was their first customer, clawing at the door. I sat in those blissful AC surrounding dragging out breakfast as long as I could.

I should have gone to see the Kali Temple  in the south of the city but the lure of a peaceful AC reprieve won over religious and cultural concerns. They felt distinctly over-heated and thus over-rated pursuits today.

So instead I browsed in the  The Oxford Bookshop for ages  and resisted buying more weight.

Back at Howra train station, things were amiss with the Navadwip train-line and I would have to wait until late in the evening to catch a train. I decided instead to stay in Calcutta for the night and try again the following day.

On  Monday 24th, I arrived in Navadwip at 5.30pm and crossed the Ganges by boat to Mayapur, the birthplace of the Bengali Vaishnava Saint Chaitanya.

Crossing the Ganges from Navadwip

There is a festival here on the 27th, Radhastami, which celebrates the appearance of Radharani, the apple of Krishna’s eye, so I shall stay here to partake of the festivities.

Radha-Krishna

Next stops I hope will be Varanasi, Prayag, Mathura, Vrindavan, to drop luggage and get warm clothes for the north, Haridwara, Badrinatha, Kedarnatha and Gomukh (the source of the Ganges) if possible.

Anyway that’s the plan. Let’s see what really happens.

 

Chidambaram

The name Chidambaram comes from chit, meaning “consciousness”, and ambaram, meaning “sky” . It  refers to the expanse of the skies or ‘expanding consciousness’. This 10th century temple, (built during the reign of Vira Chola Raja and later reconstructed by Raja Krishnadeva Raya of Vijayanagar in 1520) is the home of the famous Sabhanayaka Nataraja Temple.

The Chidambaram temple

It is the original temple dedicated to the  Nataraja (Lord of Dance) form of Shiva,  found in his famous dancing pose (Ananda Tandava), with one leg in the air and four arms.Apart from this being another  architectural eye-fest , this  is one of the few temples which houses both a Vaishnava and Shaiva shrine side by side.

In a shrine close beside the shrine to Lord Nataraj (and two linga forms) is the shrine to Govindaraja, a form of Vishnu reclining on Ananta sesa. Sri Vaisnava priests conduct the puja, or worship to Govindaraj while a class of local brahmanas (Dikshitars) conduct rituals for Lord Nataraja. The temple is an important pilgrimage site for both traditions.

The Iconic Nataraja

I found the priests at this temple welcoming and generous with their time without asking for money. One of the Dikshitar priests, Ganesh,  perhaps in his 40s with thick -lensed pink spectacles, kindly handed me two pages of typed paper on which  the digested wisdom of his years as a temple priest was succinctly outlined. He refused my attempts at recompense and simply wished me well. It read a bit like a New-Age Eckhart Tolle chapter, but given his generousity of spirit I received it with gratitude. Here’s a  sample of what he wrote (verbatim):

Everything we do, we must wait and quiet for the right time. Please try always to be a giving person, what we giving to the people, we receiving from God. God is no where. God is now here. All is Lord Nataraja’s play and blessings. Everything comes for a very good reason. Everything is perfect. And provided. Life is a circle. Happiness to bring sadness, sadness to bring happiness. If you follow Shiva, only happiness and u can be sixteen years old always in your life.

He may have needed an editor but I appreciated his attempt to  help others (particularly Westerners) see beyond what might appear as alien and inaccessible Shiva ritual and practice.

 

Kumbakonam

Sarangapani Temple Kumbakonam

Kumbakonam, known as the Temple Town, is a  former capital of the Chola kings in the 7th century, and is about 4 hours by bus from Tiruchirappelli. It has about 15 temples dedicated to Lord Vishnu and Lord Shiva around the town centre and there is also a rare temple to Brahma  here too.

The Sarangapani temple, mostly built by the Nayaks between the 13th and 17th century ( the central shrine dates to the Chola period, 10th-12th C.E) is considered to be one of the most important Vaishnava temples in South India along with Sri Rangam (Tiruchiappelli) and  Sri Venkateshwara or Balaji Temple in Tirupati. Here again Lord Vishnu is seen reclining on Ananta Sesa, the celestial serpent.

My experience here was very welcoming. Arriving in the evening of the 9th in time for the evening ritual, I was met with the sweet smell of hay and cows as soon as I stepped through yet another fabulous Dravidian gopuram (gateway). There, to one side, was a small cow sanctuary (goshalla) complete with new born calves.

The evening was balmy and breezy and I was among the very few visitors to the temple that evening. This allowed for a tranquil and unhurried stay. A group of  eight brahmins, in a small inner courtyard immediately in front of the inner sanctum, were reciting prayers in unison from their Sri Vaisnava scriptures. I sat for about a half hour, welcomed by the altar priest, in the timeless space of sacred chant until I was ready for sleep and repeated it all again the next morning before leaving for Chidambaram.

The Cow Sanctuary at the Sarangapani Temple

 

Madurai, Meenakshi, and Me.

Meenakshi Temple

Arrived in Madurai at 3pm, Monday August 3rd and found a small Hotel (Sri Devi Hotel) with stunning roof views of the incredibly beautiful Meenakshi temple. Showered, changed into sari and rushed off to try my luck with taking darshan of Meenakshi Devi.

The present temple was built in the 17th century, but it’s history goes back to the Pandhya kings around 2000 years ago.It is believed to have been destroyed in 1310 by the infamous Muslim invader Malik Kafur.

The temple has two main sanctuaries dedicated to Sundareshwara (Lord of Beauty) and Meenakshi, his wife. The  temple complex houses 14 magnificent Gopurams or towers including two golden Gopurams for the main deities, that are sculptured and painted in the elaborate Dravidian style.There is a fabulous thousand pillared hall and it  is estimated that  there are over 33 million carvings in the temple!

Hotel Roof Top View

Another roof top view

I was refused entry to the inner sanctum for not being a Hindu at the first attempt. Thus began a merry-go-round of pass-the-parcel (me = parcel) with the temple administration. I pleaded my : ‘I’ve-been-a-practising-Vaishnava-for-over-20-years’ case with the Deputy Officer, the Superintendent, the Joint Commissioner and finally after a two hour wait across town, with Rajendra the local branch head of the Arya Samaj. He in turn put me on the phone to the President (Subodh Chander) of the Tamil Nadu Arya Samaj.

Each interview was met with sympathy and understanding, but the bottom line was I needed a Hindu Conversion Certificate to enter the inner sanctum of the temple where the deity of Meenaksi resides. The President offered to perform a shuddhi ritual for me and also a fire sacrifice (homa), amongst else which would entitle me to my certificate. I was told that I should wait in Madurai until next week when he would be visiting and all this could take place.

Rajendra showed me the elaborate certificate with a signed declaration of ones conversion to Hinduism complete with photo id.

I then asked the President if all this was necessary just to have a two minute darshan of Meenakshi and could I just go and see her in the morning. Finally he agreed that since I had to leave tomorrow, and that I did not in fact need to perform any Hindu rituals personally, it would be alright to see Meenakshi without more formal qualification. He further added that if there was anything else he could do to help, he was at my service.

An arrangement was thus made for me to meet with Rajendra at 9am at my Hotel the next morning when he would take me to the shrine.

Next morning I waited for an hour and Rajendra did not show up and the phone number he had given me remained switched off. I finally gave up and decided to catch the bus to Ramesvaram instead.

En route to Ramesvaram (4 hours) I mentally churned the whole idea of what it means to be a Hindu. In our Hindu Studies classes this first introductory class always produces divided opinion, as we expect. The origin of the word ‘Hindu’ is explained as a term designated by the Persians for those people living beyond the river Sindhu. It was not a term these people applied to themselves nor did it refer to a single tradition. It was an umbrella term for a wide range of beliefs and practices with many over-lapping similarities. Along with an over-view of the historical development of the term, the class also debates the issue of birth vs character and practice in defining a Hindu. There is usually lively debate on the subject just as there always has been within Hindu traditions themselves.

Meenakshi Devi

These varying perspectives are always stimulating but here in Madurai, to find myself on the receiving end of a personal rejection, aroused a surprising sense of hurt and indignation. Travelling to Ramesvaram, I mentally relived all the ‘He-said-and-I-saids’ and all the ‘I-could-have –said-and-should-have-saids” of the previous day. The energy behind my mental rant was interesting and I couldn’t seem to just let it go or ‘drop-the-bone’.

Then, sitting there on the over-heated gear box of the bus my eyes caught sight of the smiling face of the Goddess Meenakshi looking directly at me from the front of a shopping bag at the feet of the lady sitting directly before me. She appeared to be looking directly at me with kind smiling face and right hand uplifted in the pose of benediction.

Instantly all mental angst evaporated in that smile. It seemed that all the codes or laws of any particular brand of religion or tradition seemed in that instant unable to restrict or contain the workings of the Divine. I may not be allowed access to Menakshi in her shrine, but that is not to say Meenakshi is restricted in her access to me. The divine female principle is a lofty theological concept way beyond my grasp or understanding but such a well-timed smile from a handbag panel did more for me then than theology could ever achieve.

The whole episode reminded me of a T-shirt I saw in Jaipur:

God is Too Big To Fit Into One Religion

My journey to Ramesvaram from then on became a peaceful and happy pilgrimage and despite a little hour and a half hitch along the way I arrived in time to bathe and take darshan with no problems at all at the Ramnathaswami temple, with the famous  Shiva Linga  said to be fashioned originally  by Sita devi from sand and installed here by Lord Rama.

Got back to Madurai around mid-night feeling tired, happy,  healed, and resentment free.

Dayananda Sarasvati(1824-1883) founder of the Arya Samaj initially employed the shuddhi ritual to purify and readmit the Hindus who had converted to Islam or Christianity; however, soon it was made into an instrument of conversion to Hindu tradition redefining its essence from birth to belief.

A little Hitch on the way

Bathing at Ramesvaram

 

Arts and Crafts

Still in Vrindavan and plan to leave now on Saturday 25th. My back has seized up a bit from sleeping directly under a full-power fan…so ironically in this heat I’m treating it with Tiger balm, a fiery emollient to treat stiffened muscles.

In any case, now I walk with a little less Celtic bouncy pace and with the heat to also slow me down I am shocked to recognise that even I have gained some  semblance of the grace and elegance with which everyone walks over here. That lovely languid gait and the whole rhythm of life here is so intimately linked to the weather.

Rice Lady

Next time I buy rice for an OCHS Wednesday lunch I’m going to try this on the Cowley road! Such graceful yet practical skill. The man below was an equally graceful porter who simply moved his banana business to the shade when the heat went up.

The Mobile Banana Company

But the art of walking is not the only skill that impresses. Everywhere I look there’s someone with a talent to  marvel at back home, yet who just blend with the landscape of faces over here.

There are countless bead-makers who provide for a whole range of japa-malas or strings of prayer beads for  different traditions. The favoured Vaishnava bead is made from the sacred Tulasi plant which seems to be the speciality of this craftsman.

Mala Maker

A couple of days ago I met a young man who gave me directions to Imlitala where Pishima lives. He looked like a million other young men here with nothing to distinguish him from every other rick shaw walla around, and yet when I saw him again he was painting a beautiful bas relief of Radha and Krishna beside a newly constucted temple at Imlitala.

There is really no way of telling who I’m dealing with over here. So many amazing people with little to advertise their craft, skill, asceticism or devotion. Mind you that’s the thinking behind the Hindu teaching  of respect for all living beings. On a more theological level, it teaches that we have in fact no idea who we are dealing with, in terms of the real self/soul’s journey, the hidden story of a person’s life what to speak of the hidden journey of many lifetimes that karma and reincarnation dictate.

Respect is a consequence of recognising at least in theory, the spiritual nature of all life and also the safest way to avoid misjudging someone through ignorance of the bigger picture.

Radha and Krishna in bas relief

Speaking of Radha and Krishna, I met another man known to all as Tapan who has a small little workshop here where he designs and sews outfits for Temple deities throughout Vrindavan. He has developed such a reputation for his creative designs and impeccable work that he is in demand internationally with people coming to Vrindavan from far and wide to have a ‘Tapan’ piece of work.

Tapan - haute culture for deities

He has been sewing for 35 years and running his own workshop for 25 years. He hails from a Vaishnava family with his grandfather an artist in Orissa. It was his father who turned from painting to sewing and taught Tapan all he knows. Today the whole family can sew and he hopes to expand his workshop when he has trained his sons to his standard of expertise.

The Sewing Family - a family that sews together grows together - to coin a phrase

His son works with him in his workshop and as is usual everywhere here there is an altar at the centre  of activities as he says himself “to remind him that this is’ seva’ or a devotional service to Krishna, but also to bless him with a profitable business. Not too heavenly minded to be of no earthly use and it seems his puja and prayers have been answered. In his house he has a a temple room in which he offers prayers every morning before the business day starts.

Radha Krishna, Kali, Ganesh and Laksmi

Family work shop

 

Lessons from two old ladies

Have spent the past four days dividing my day between two old ladies close to leaving this world. One is a Bengali lady who is over a hundred years old and the other lives at a Goshalla or cow santuary.

The Bengali lady, Prabhavati, or Pishima as she is affectionately called, has been a widow since she was 24 years of age. She married and lost her husband in the same year. She has no children and came to Vrindavan from Bengal shortly after that to  live  as a renunciant  spending her days visiting temples, in prayer or kirtan, or doing ‘seva’ or service at her temple .

Vrindavan has many widows ashrams, some of which have had bad press for the enforced chanting of prayers before they are fed amongst else. Deepa Mehta’s film “Water’ didn’t do much for the reputation of widows either.

Mother Pishima, Vrindavan Sadhu

However Pishima offers a more positive picture of widowhood. She has led a very happy life as a devout Vaishnava in Vrindavan and in these final stages of her life she has many friends who love and care for her. She’s quite a celebrity figure, with many priests and senior religous figures coming to visit her to receive her blessings. She cannot speak or walk, but she lives right beside a temple at a place called Imlitala and can listen to all the temple kirtans from her bed.

I am very happy she likes a head massage  and so that is where I spend my mornings these days.

Then on my route back to my room, I pass through a Goshalla  and spend some time with a very old cow who has only days to live.By some stroke of good fortune  the drinking water bottle I brought from the U.K.  has a squeezy top on it that allows me, and others to squirt water down her throat. The only other way she can drink is by being hoisted up on a pully-contraption which is very uncomfortable on her skeletal frame.

Old Mother Cow

Anyway I am happy to have two little services to do here. The returns are so much greater. It seems Vrindavan is teaching me lessons  from the later stages of life.

Hindu teaching is that time ravages only the outward frame that the self or soul inhabits. That is the explanation given for the tension between how we feel and how we look as time goes by.  Looking into the eyes of  Pishima and the old cow an extraordinary vitality meets me that belies the decrepid condition of both.In the Bhagavad Gita Krishna teaches this immortality of the real self to Arjuna and explains that the wise who know this live lives of devotion to Krishna.

W.B Yeats in his poem, Sailing to Byzantium puts it well:

An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress

It seems to me when I look into the eyes of these two old ‘matas’ or mothers as they are called, that Pishima and the old cow are clapping!

 

The Madana Mohana Temple

Madana Mohana Mandir

Visited the Madana Mohana temple, founded by one of the famous six Goswami disciples (Sanatana Goswami) of the Chaitanya Vaishnava tradition. The original temple was built in the early fifteen hundreds, but was desecrated by the Muslim Emperor, Aurangzeb in 1670. The original murti was taken to Karauli in Rajasthan for safety and a replica, considered non-different in potency from the original deity is worshipped in Vrindavan today.

Here is another picture of the temple I found, from 1789.

Madan Mohan and the river Yamuna 1789

This sadhu, or saintly mendicant, lives at the Madana Mohana temple and very kindly let me take this photo. There are so many simple gentlemen like him around who ask for nothing and seem to subsist on crumbs and mantras. He helps care for the samadhi, or tomb, of Sanantana Goswami which is right next to the Madana Mohana temple.

Simply saintly