In this chaotic world
You have come to reside in my home
In this noisy jungle
You have brought silence to my mind
In this blind rush for wealth
You have given me the greatest gift of all
In this illusion of life
You light the fire of enlightenment.
I have often wondered what is it I am looking for when I visit a shrine. I have wondered what is it I feel when I come close to sacred altars. I have sat back to think, how does a person feel the presence of the Lord residing there?
The darkness within a shrine brings a mysterious world to light that is magical and exclusive. There are no words to describe what the heart and mind can feel when the sanctity of the shrine is preserved, and preservation is described such.
Darkness describes the void beyond this illusion of life, it is the darkness in the realm of nothingness. It is the space, the air where nothing exists. And in this darkness, there is a drop of light, that lights up the form of that who is formless. Fire, the beautiful path of enlightenment brings back to our real world a sacred truth that can only be imagined. The fire, is a path that illuminates the chamber inside, fire is the purity that enlightens one and blesses us with divine vision. Fire is so bright that it blinds the eye from all its illusion. Fire is the heat that reduces the ego to ash. Fire is the formless that gives us a glimpse of the form of the Lord. Fire can neither be created nor destroyed by us. That which is ever present, that which just appears and disappears, that which has the power to sustain us as well as destroy us, that which glows brighter than anything else within the chamber... isn't that the very Lord Himself giving us a small example of how vast and limitless he is, like the fire, he can be a drop of light or grow within seconds into a deadly forest fire? He can give warmth and scrotch us to death at the same time. Isn't this duality the very nature of the Lord Himself?
In these flames does one notice the silence deep within, the darkness now cut away as the light bathes the sacred shrine. The wet floor shimmers as the tiny waves of water come flowing down from the idol in mystical elegance. These are the waters of life, freely falling into the abyss of darkness below. These are the sacred drops that cover his form in purity as they drape his being as they flow down. Crystal clear waters form ripples of a thousand suns embedded in its various reflections. What a beautiful sight it is to see the Lord enveloped in such divinity. The formless, the shapeless, that takes the shape of anything its put into, like the atman that resides in any given body and gives it life, and yet it is so pure and crystal clear even if the container is flawed... Isn't this the very nature of the Lord we define in water?
The air is fragrant, the space is so pure. There is a rush of emotion as the eyes are set in a gaze to look up to this life beauty within these walls. The air is thick with the fragrance of flowers and incense. It is everywhere at the same time, all enveloping, and pure, unmoved and stable. It fills the space in this chamber, covers the ether with its presence and one can feel the gradual flowing waves of the sound that carries the rhythm of the sacred mantras spoken. It echoes within the shrine wall, and one syllable fades into the other rhythmically bringing alive the mystical presence of the Lord. How then cant the heart melt as such beauty overflows within the mind of the bhakta?
He is, He shall be, as he stands in the emblem of stone. He is the unshakable, He is that which has never changed. He is the definition of the eternal, that or equilibrium, that of silence and stability. He is and will always be there, through the world around may perish in its chaos. He stays there unmoved, untouched, unhurt...He is and will always be.
The shrine chamber presents to us the Lord, present in all the elements that adorn him, surround him in this miniature grandeur. This is pure life energy that empowers us to go back and face the world again. This is the power that is subtle and yet makes its presence felt if one has to reach its doors in complete humility. How then can we desecrate it with noise and corruption? How then can a priest have absolutely no faith while they utter the sacred verses? How can we tolerate this utter disrespect to the very shrine that protects our well being?
He is the formless, like the fire, He is bright and wonderful like its flame. He is pure as in its whiteness. He appears like the fire and He disappears all the same, but like the fire, he destroys all that has to die but doesnt perish in its flames. He shines in its glow, as the waters of offering reflect His being. He bathes in its pure light as the drops of water rhythmically wash his feet. He is like the water that takes the form of the vessel he resides within. He is always present like the unshaken stone alive and breathing within this chamber in small grandeur as the incense covers His little room. He is real, alive and silent watching the gradual decline of pure faith at his doorstep.
Lost among ancient hills, overpowered by the most popular shrine at Tirupati, the endless highway winds around low hills and the green countryside of Andhra Pradesh leading a seeking devotee straight to the temple gates of Lord Shiva at Kalahasti.
Among the noise and clatter, with vendors selling flowers to those selling Rahu Ketu puja to officials offering special darshan, Kalahasti has every sign of a living temple today. In the midst of all this noise, and wading through half of India’s moving population on foot, finding our way through the maze of metal walkway, the freedom of Kalahasti has long gone giving way to just “one way traffic”. Yet there is peace here, yet there silence if only we care to hear it. As people pay through to see the Lord, getting into occasional wars right in front of the shrine, shouting abuses in the interior halls of the sacred temple, this is the other India, the other Hinduism that clearly shows the lack of spiritualism among the ignorant masses who visit.
And yet, peace can be won. A trained mind that can concentrate is all one needs to switch off the sound of the madness and switch onto the sound of the Lord’s breath within his shrine chamber. Here it is a completely different world. The shrine chamber well decorated with silver plated exteriors flanked by two dwarapalas and two priests houses a spectacular concept within. The air here is pure, the experience is overwhelming and the emotions pour into a river of sacred syllables that flow over all the senses that cut out the worldly noise. This is the entrance to the divine presence of the Lord of Kailasa. The ardha manadapa (vestibule) is a room large enough to capture this essence that emanates from within, for what lies within is much more than just wind, just vayu… the Lord breathes here, he lives here, he is here.
Nandi, sits at his door and look up to him in silence, his breath in rhythmic patterns recites the Panchakshara as it cuts through the noise to reach the Lord, a divine dialog of which we are just “not” a part but also fail to understand that we should not even cross this sacred space. And here I stand right in the middle of it with no choice but to view the Lord within.
The air is still, the tiny lamps flicker making a halo of light around this extraordinary linga that is not made out of black stone. A narrower shaft rises out of the peetha, with the representations of a spider at its bottom and two stumps on it that give the feeling of gaja rupa, the form of an elephant. Rising straight up to cover the Lord’s head is the serpent power, a five hooded snake. These sacred emblems are not directly seen, as they are covered by the jeweled starry crown that the Lord wears to protect us, the Navagraha Kavacha. The navagrapha, the nine planets who adorn Him, are represented by nine strips of sacred metal, with three stars in each row representing a star. The whole kavacha invoked in one’s worship, with mantra recited thrice, one for each star brings the sacred count to 27, blessing the devotee with lesser pain through their karmic lives.
The Lord represents the universe, the living emblem within which we live, he is breath that pulsates within this chamber, the only witness being the hanging lamp whose flame never dies, never stops a dance, sways as he breaths to indicate to the world that he IS, he lives, he resides here. As the great moment arrives, devotees stand is queues, waiting for those sacred few seconds where they witness a picture, not too easy to catch.
This is the divine abhishekam, the only chance where we can see the Lord in his form, where the Navagraha Kavacha is removed and placed alongside. In the dimly lit interior, with priests silently pouring sacred water over the Lord, who towers within the center of his chamber, this view is breathtaking. He stands on a stark square peetha, made of stone and rises in the center of a lit up interior. The water flows down his sides, with a million lights flickering on its shaft as it flows down, covering his divine being. The lamp dances on, as the cool air within brings a strange peace a strange fragrance to the approaching devotees. The air is still and yet in all the noise one can hear the divine sound of Panchakshara, Om Na Ma Shi Va Ya resounding within the walls. In tune is the damaru, the sound of creation as one imagines Nandikeshwara play the mridangam. In these divine sounds, is embedded my breath, a rhythm that slows down to imbibe the beauty of this place.
The mind is silent, the sacred Mrityunjaya rhythmically rambles on in my mind, followed by the Rudram that plays music in my mind as the sounds of creation get louder. The breath of the Lord, sends ripples through the air, pulsates with my being as I leave everything in the known world behind. This is life, this is reality, this is being in the presence of creation, that which never ends. This is the world of Lord Shiva, one of silent energy, one of real truth, one that transforms an ever noisy temple seeped in corruption into a divine chariot that floats through the air, occasionally nudged by the divine breath of the Lord within the chamber.
As the bhakta walks out, with the heart floating in this divine chariot, the world in the outer hall way personifies divinity, through all the jailed illusion. Shiva lingas adorn the precincts, redefining the glory of the lord. As the sun penetrates through a small window in the west wall, and bathes a silent linga seated on its pedestal, it’s the only form I can touch and perform namaskaram to. Holding the peetha with my hands and placing my head at his divine feet, in complete surrender to the Lord, I pray for enlightenment. This moment is pure, he is near and he is listening to the feeble voice that comes out from within. I wish I could have hugged him, and stayed there to just talk to him. I move on as I am controlled by Kala, by time. Each corner is divine, graced by Kalabhairava who stands handsome with his dog and trishul, with a bowl in his hand. Near him sit the Sapta Matrika, or Sapta Kannigai elegantly seated displaying a certain wilderness in their posture. In the south corner lies the divine spatica, crystal clear and shining. This is the divine pantheon of surrounding Lord Shiva and his divine consort. This is the sacred beauty of Kalahasti, this is the heavenly world on earth. We are so close and yet in our minds we are so far.
All I can think of is praying to the Lord to ward away my troubles!
Grahanaam aadhi radhithyo Loka Rakshana Karaka |
Vishama sthana sambhootham Peedam harathu may ravi ||
Please steal away my problem O Sun, the first of all the planets that adorn the Lord’s chest. You are the cause of protecting the world and you are the cause of trouble by the position you hold at the time of my birth.
This prana feels trouble but isn’t it the essence of life, trouble IS because I am born, trouble IS because I don’t accept, trouble IS because I desire more and more. Isn’t it unfortunate that I don’t desire the presence of the Lord in my conscious life as much as I desire something that doesn’t exist? Doesn’t this make me look really miserable?
I stand here, an ignorant fool who thinks I know how to live. I stand here a coward because I cannot face life. I stand here a human because I am limited and inadequate. I stand here in this birth because I am still imperfect. I stand here with all my sorrows because I am Apasmara.
In this chaotic world
