The unknown side of Hinduism

Hinduism is a whirlpool of knowledge, that which cannot be understood at first glance. To be a Hindu is not just about being gifted, but it’s an experience we need to live out in accordance with the Shastras.

Walking through a temple might be an overwhelming experience, where we would believe the superior powers are embedded within the deity. Sure enough, but how did this power get there? How did the idol get a life and how are we sharing this power? Or rather...what is this power that we define as "the ultimate truth"?

The power of the stone is not generate within the stone itself but is generated through the mystical diagram that defines the nature of the deity enclosed within the shrine. Various "bija mantras" attributed to the deity are embedded within this mystical diagram. For now this is just a copper/gold plate that carries the lines that define the true nature of the deity.

The real play starts at the dwajastambha, the main pillar in front of the temple. The fire of life is ignited along a darbha grass rope that connects the main dwajastambha to the shrine within the sanctum. The dwajastambha itself is a complex flag post, which contains designs all of which are attributed of the enclosed deity. Fire and ghee ignite the life of the mystical diagram placed within the sanctum followed by a series of hymns that are sung rhythmically along the cardinal directions within the shrine chamber. The mystical diagram comes alive when the fire with the burning ghee falls on its metal surface.

After this ritual the deity is placed over the metal plate and sealed to the floor using a mixture known as "ashtabandhanam". The idol, made of a specific black stone is the carrier of this energy. This energy is maintained and enhanced by constant worship. Worship includes the bathing of the idol with water, milk, sandal wood, fruit mix, honey, oil, ghee and the like. Food is offered in the form of incense, flowers, fruit and rice to the deity.

The inner power of the idol is maintained by constant "pradakshinam" or circumambulation around the main shrine chamber and various prakaras. Only oil lamps should light the interior chamber and electricity is strictly prohibited. Flower garlands should be strung with banana fiber and not thread. Every thing that is offered to the deity is in its purest form. Hence the power of the deity is maintained.

What is the real nature of this "power"?
The nature of this power is strangely electrical, meaning it can produce anything from a mild shock near your elbow to making you shiver if you cannot cope with it.
The point is, we need to be ready to receive this power and for that the body and mind need to be prepared. Hence the various philosophies of detachment and zero desire so that we can concentrate on the Self instead of getting distracted by the world around us.

I know I made this sound really simple but this is belief as it stands today and no, Western science cannot prove this in a hurry.

A night with Nava Shakti - Chamunda.

She woke up in cold sweat,
What was that?
All she remembered were those eyes.
A man moved around,
A lightning in the dark, two eyes so powerful
Swept the air as they danced to his beat.
He resounded again...

damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum |
damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum ||

She stood, silent looking at the sea,
The waves advancing with force washing her feet,
Giving additional rhythm to the drumbeat.
The moon swayed in the night sky,
Tossing among silent clouds
As the wind whistled on.
The mridangam beat reverberated in her mind...

She raised her feet, looked up to the air and called to the Goddess Chamunda.

Oh Mother
Help me perform the very dance,
The dance of fury
The dance of lightning
Those very steps that you walk...

damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum |
damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum ||

The feet raised, the body moves
The muscles wake up
To the calls of the night
The cat moves in stealth
Chamunda descends

damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum |
damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum ||

The dimly lit cloudy stage
The wet floor with waves
The slow beat in the waters
A trident gold the goddess awakes
The spirit invoked

damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum |
damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum ||

The muscles like a panther move
The feet agile, the body smooth
The steps sure, the earth resounds
Sending ripples through the wind
The fury within pours forth

damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum |
damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum ||

Together the beat, together the step
They yield the trident of death
The eyes glow, the limbs move
The grace within unfolds
The bodies arch back, and then attack

damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum |
damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum ||

A red glow in pure white skin
The Goddess shimmers in gold
A deadly trident circles around
Her deft hands behold
The power within

damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum |
damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum ||

The flames light up, the gods descend
The sea recedes and comes forth again
The clouds move, the moon reveals
The bright eyed goddess moves
Crossing the man in rhythmic outburst

damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum |
damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum ||

Their backs meet, their feet retreat
The tridents move like lightening
Circles of light that never meet
As they unite and depart
The energy within overflows

damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum |
damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum ||

The tiger moves, in similar step
As she takes her feet through the air
Her grace her light her charm revealed
She moves in fury
Her feet sink in the sand beneath

damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum |
damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum ||

Such force, the tremors felt
The heart pound the heat rises
Her skin glows, her dress in red
Sways to the wind as she flows
The trident now her halo holds

damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum |
damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum ||

The gods witness the performer go
The man gives the beat to her feet
Her moves so easy her mind so calm
That sways with such delicacy
Through the shaken air

damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum |
damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum ||

Such grace unknown, such power not felt
That brings the great gods to earth
Lord Shiva beholds her silent steps
The shastras of bharata unfold
The dance of fury, the dance of vigor

damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum |
damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum ||

The moon hides, the sea calm
The man bring down the rhythm
The dance concludes the body weakens
Chamunda withdraws from the being
A miracle engulfed into the silence again.

damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum |
damadamadama | damadamadama | damadamadum ||













Photo courtesy: Glossary of Indian Art | Shunya.net

Expression in Abhinaya, the art of Bharata.

Kanchipuram, 1 hour from Chennai:

This is a brimming temple town, which hosts temples to all the Gods. This was the first time I had entered Kamakshi Amman temple. A small temple with at the most two prakaras, Kamakshi Amman temple is one of the more popular temples in Kanchipuram.

Its a lovely town, where every street has a shrine attributed to the Gods. The Pallavas were meticulous about building temples, making sure that Amman, Shiva and Vishnu got temples exclusively associated with them.

I walked in slowly observing the changes that had come about to the Amman temple. Old granite rocks had given way to modern glossy granite finish; stark rock had given way to color at places. Oil lamps had given way to tube lights that lit the interiors, the silence had given way to strong fans and voices of devotees, the pillared halls had given way to meandering queues separated by metal rods, and the Goddess's divine blessings had given way to "Archana" tickets.

Every thing had changed, from what had once been Pallava except the inner most sanctum and the ardhamandapa that preceded it. These chambers alone were dark, silent and carried a red hue of kumkum along the walls and floor. The ardhamandapa carried the priced Sri Chakra engraved in gold and installed within an octagonal pitha in front of the Goddess while another Sri Chakra lay beneath her feet, unknown to the world.

The Sri chakra was installed here by Adi Shankara to calm down the ughra swarupa of the Amman, that which resembles the Kali swarupa by day. Amman, a silent potent form, who resides within these walls, has the moon dancing on her mukuta giving a very tantrik feel to the chamber. The fire of the oil lamp blazed large flames that lit her ever-shining face, the chandan glowing in every flicker of the flame that seemed to dance in her praise.

It cast a spell, a silent spell that brought to life the very dance form of Bharata. The glowing light of the oil lamps brings alive a form of Amman draped in a madisaar covered with flowers in cosmic conversation with her only devotee who performs silhouetted in an ambience of Divine love.

The language of Bharatnatyam, the emotions in abhinaya, the speech in his very eyes as they dance along reflecting every human emotion that melts one's heart to the Divine Mother.



Around the pitha he places his feet, agile and light to the thundering beats of the mridangam, a slender form merges with the Goddess every move waking the mind to a lesson unknown, to a world unknown, to energy potent as he touches Amman, and casts a spell around.



The world falls at her feet, the drums resound, the power of the Sri Chakra is brought to life from within the Pitha, and Amman changes her form from Ughra to calm and resides within her home, the Mother touches my heart as the silhouetted form dances in vigour and the "chalangai" drive the beat down my spine. Tiny droplets of water wake the cells, the heat rises, a dialog in bharatnatyam wakes the air around to a silent world unknown thundering into the rhythm of the ancient drummers realm. The form sways, the fingers blooming into various mudra, a silent word spoken as the back arches to perform a rhythmic expression of complete devotion.

An ancient world brought to life, giving a wake up call, there is more to the aesthetics of living... its perfection within the chamber of Kamakshi Amman.

The mark of a brahmin woman

It was a silent evening at home while I watched my mother prepare for Varalakshmi Nombu. The priced wooden temple came out of its bag and I proceeded with the yearly ritual of assembling the parts together. My fascination for temples made me look at this small mandapam in wood wondering whether I would be able to carve something similar.

An ancient bag, almost belonging to the previous century came back home from the bank with all silver items in it. Part of the booty was a silver pot, kuthi vallaku(lamps) and of course Amman herself wrapped in a red cloth which was her dress for the puja. Amman, wore necklaces made of semi precious stones, an elaborate nose ring, beautiful earrings that gave life to her bright eyes.

The following morning, Amma was draped in her madi saree (9 yard saree) reciting mantra and meticulously doing the puja. I watched Amma in her madi saree, a fairly complex outfit with innumerably tucks and twists to finally give the most gorgeous outlook to a brahmin woman - the virtues of Amman herself.

Amma was complete, with metti(toe rings) in her toes and golusu (anklets) to go with it in silver. They say these jewelery keep away all evil spirits and black magic, while she is free to tread on any ground, her purity being her only guard.

The madi saree itself is considered to be most pure as the yarn does not involve the killing of silk worms or pesticides as in the case of cotton. The yarn being pure and not bringing any "dosham" (sin) onto itself is considered the purest outfit a brahmin woman can wear. Hence worship of Amman is best done in a madi saree for it increases the spiritual power of the woman when she worships God.

Amma wore her bangles, a combination of emerald and rubies embedded in gold. She wore her six petaled "vairu thodu"(diamond earrings) embedded in gold and of course her nose ring. Gold is a significant metal worn on the human body, it has a power of its own. Being worn in the arms, ears and nose enhance the internal spiritual power of the brahmin woman. Puncturing of the nostrils allows the impurities in the inhaled breath to exit through the hole therefore allowing pure air to enter into the lungs. Puncturing of the ear lobes help similarly in health. Hence problems like sinus and headaches are minimized.

Amma never uses the hair dryer. She says our hair gets spoiled and it brings in side effects on the face. Most traditional brahmin women have long hair to comb, hence water should not remain on the head. Hair should be dried naturally ensuring there is no water accumulation. This reduces tension headaches and sinus. Amma always dries her hair by brushing it vigorously creating water sprays all around her with our most famous "thundu" - the brahmin absorbent white towel, completely functional but fairly lousy to look at after a while!!

Then of course the most fabulous mark of a brahmin woman is the big red bindi Amma wears on her forehead. With vibhuti smeared above it, it completes the picture. Amma looks like Amman just descended into the house, simply perfect. With jasmine flowers locked into her hair, the red madi saree brightens up the whole house as Amma runs into rhythm with her mantras to Amman. I feel so small when I look at Amma perform, still wishing every time I would get a chance to do the same puja with just as much devotion as she does it with.

Truly a divine form, with her feet richly colored with turmeric, subtly enhanced by the silver metti and anklets contrasting with the red madi saree with a thick gold border, she simply looks great! I sat back in my "paavaadai" wishing some day I would enter the divine category of brahmin women, a form of Amman relived.

Dip in the sacred river.

Haridwar: Along the Ganges

Going back to the north after about 10 years was indeed very nostalgic as I walked out of Delhi airport to take a car to Haridwar. I had heard a lot about this place and it seemed to be my year for cleansing! If Rameshwaram was not enough, I found myself looking forward to a dip in the Ganges as well.

Ah! The Ganges, I had read so much about it in the books, the great River Goddess, the Goddess who washes off our sins, the river that takes a millions souls to heaven. The river that is now polluted, the river that purifies the soul, the Ganges. I wondered about the Ganges as I sat in the car and headed towards Haridwar. The land of the Kumbh Mela, the land where a thousand Rishis have come to sing countless praises of this mighty river. It felt strange as I thought of Shiva Gangadhara, as Ganges stayed locked into his knotted hair till she was finally set free to flow down to Bhuloka and wash away the sins of Bhagiratha's ancestors by flowing over their ashes and releasing them to heaven.

It was clearly the reason why we continue to burn bodies along its ghats... A hope we reach heaven and not come back in rebirth to suffer another life. Thoughts went by furiously about how mythology has shaped our lives, about how Rishis left stories behind for us to follow a way of life and about how we try so hard now to recollect all this and give up saying we dont need it in this age anymore. I looked out of the window to see the car zipping through greenery, with mad highway traffic almost killing people on the road.

And then the excitement mounted, I was reaching Haridwar, a land I had once visited, of which I knew nothing now but looked out expectantly from the car hoping to catch a glimpse of the Ganges. My heart started to pound, the excitement rising ever so high to see one of the most celebrated rivers in the Indian mind. Ganges appears every where. In ritual Ganges is worshipped first while bathing with the words "Aham Gangai Namaskaromi". Ganga devi is worshipped during ritual with certain hymns attributed to her. Ganges appears as a Goddess on the carved brackets of pillars at temple entrances as well as on cave temples across the country. Ganges stays locked in Shiva's Jatamukuta in ancient sculptures of Shiva Gangadhara and Ganges water is the purest in temple ritual.

The power of Ganges was just fictitious till now until I entered Haridwar to take a dip in this Great river. The first sight of Ganges sent goose pimples through my skin. She spoke pure volume and power. The ghats at Haridwar seemed to be built to just direct her carefully but not enough to try stopping her.

As I descended into the river down the Ghat steps, the chilling waters of the Ganges just ate into my marrow. Oh God this was not simple and I was there for a "Darpanam" in the Ganges and it suddenly appeared tougher than I thought. The steps are steep, and the iron rods are too far away to reach. My knees and feet had to brave it, the current was a little too strong.

Six steps down and shivering in the water with the temples of Haridwar towering above at the other end of this vast river was an experience in itself. I felt small, weak and shivered as I held onto my dear self and prayed to the Goddess to not get any stronger on my knees.

While I said my prayers I admired her. Ganges has character, she is wild and furious and reveals the same power that Bhagiratha had prayed to Lord shiva to help control. They say she would have destroyed Bhuloka and washed away this world... I would believe that. She had the power to do anything as I watched her flow by so fast. She was not going to stop.

She is mind blowing and daring at the same time, challenging anyone to enter her waters. She is beautiful and defines the power of a Goddess in a single force. She is well respected and speaks a world so different from what we live in. A world so pure, so full of faith, so close to my heart and yet so far away. I am speechless when it comes to describing the Ganges. She is an experience, blessed are those who step into her waters for her waters just cleansed the mind and soul.

Ganges is truly a Goddess well worth worshipping. Simply Divine.

"Aham Gangai Matha Namaskaromi"

High spirits and mind power.

Do spirits exist? Is there a world out there we are unaware of because we just don't want to know it?

There was an incident recently in some one's house where there seemed to be a spirit hovering around the house, though interestingly not disturbing the inmates. A few learned men came by and refused to enter the house because they insisted there were spirits inside.

The saga ended pretty fast when one of the learned men came over and decided to "capture" the spirit and send it packing.

It was an interesting story and hard to believe but when it happens so close to home, you are really left with little choice to go against this reality.

Spirits are typically the souls of those people who die earlier than the expected date. Hence someone who commits suicide typically ends up as a spirit and hangs around till the actual time of death when they move further up the heavenly chain namely Yamaloka where Chitragupta brings out their deeds during their life times and decides their fate at Yamaloka - so try to be good.

Subsequently they are taken to Devaloka where they shall continue performing puja and go through penance to reach Lord Shiva and Vishnu and hope for the day they will head to Vaikuntam or Kailasa. While this is not so easy in Kaliyuga, lets see what happens to spirits.

Good and bad spirits have always dominated our imagination. Well is it imagination? Its more fact than imagination. Spirits if left alone hang around on Neem or tamarind trees. Else they are found near water bodies like lakes and rivers and the sea coast. They love darkness and cannot handle light. They love water but cannot handle fire. Hence the superstition - Do not go out in the night near any water body.

What would they do? Spirits tend to come and settle on you, when you venture out in these places by night. When a spirit rests on you, you don't get to see it, but feel as if a whole ten ton stone has been placed on you. It affects you physically and psychologically. Spirits who come can go just as fast. Hence the truth in the story of Vikram and Vetal.

Spirits react to smell or odour. They love the smell of jasmine and roses, the smell of food and incense. This is the reason for the superstition - women shouldn't go to bed with flowers in their head because it attracts spirits.

Spirits are attracted to various odours, so should some real smart guy want to hypnotise a spirits, its through smell. The attraction levels towards smell is so high that a spirit can succumb to any task assigned once they are intoxicated by the odour. Hence the world of black magic came in.

How do they look? Well spirits have a mind, largely appear translucent and do not have feet. The most beautiful spirits appear with lovely eyes, open hair, and look like a bride who is just five days into her marriage. Spirits are basically good and harmless. They do have a weird sense of humour and are playful. Maybe they would just jump on your back and slap you when you venture out at night! There are situations where you can see them and your friend can just hear them. They have a weird laugh and sound really strange during communication (am not referring to plan chit). Spirits understand languages.

So when do they turn evil? When a bad guy offers blood(chickens) instead of flowers and food to eat. Yes, gory as it may sound, spirits are by nature gentle beings, but its a human who diverts a spirit's mind and makes it do weird/evil things. Spirits can do good things too like predict immediate future and give you hints for something you lost.

Spirits come to homes where regular worship is not done. When spirits enter the house, there is a strong breeze before they come in with shreaks. Spirits can stay endlessly in your house until they are finally made to go away. Once out of the house, spirits wait for instructions from the bad guys who sent them there for around two days before they move on.

Last but not the least, spirits suck out the essence of any food offered. Meaning when you place a cube of sugar and invite a spirit over, it takes out the essence of the sugar cube. Should you attempt tasting the cube later it will be insipid and not sweet as expected. Strange but true!

The Temple, Abode of the Self.

Its a moment of lull again
the heart opens the emotions flow
a strange restlessness that draws me close
to the one and only great abode

One step at a time I walk
the towering gateways rise
guarded by gatekeepers, the imperial look
their assertive stance, the fierce eyes

Stone by stone I cross
rock by rock I touch
the texture so rough, the base so strong
as they hold the roof above.

Dark interiors, thick deep walls
that consume the light, the heat, the sound
leaving you in a silent world
of mystery, a cosmic conspiracy?

On every stone do damsels dance
on every rock do Gods reside
on every curve a message imprinted
the ignorant fool stares on

A thought in the mind
does all this make sense
such wealth, effort and energy spent
to walk you through a silent spell?

Or is it a deeper truth they hide
and show only those who care to seek
such knowledge beneath my feet
as I walk on unknowingly.

And then I see a million lights
lit up under the moonless night
the warmth, the fire, the smoke rise
into the air to cloud my sight

I wonder what really brought me here
is it devotion or is it fear
or is it a thirst for peace i seek
or another task unclear?

I watch the priest bathe the stone
with water, milk and sandal wood alone
in reverence he raises the fire to reveal
the presence of a Goddess Divine.

Strange patterns down on the ground beneath
hidden gracefully under Her lotus feet
the heat rises, the prayers resound
as I watch on anxiously

My memory fades, in my ears a tear
my mind hounded by fear
is it wealth, fame and glory I value
or is it silent peace and tranquility my dear?

My ego pierced, my thoughts at war,
whom do i please who do I cross
my thoughts so fast, my ego so strong
Oh Mother where do I belong.

And as the sounds of the bells thunder
it dawns on me a moment here
what comes and goes are the people, the time
the Goddess Divine stays forever near

Isn't that what I look for
as I live on tirelessly
trying to know what life means to me
waiting for that moment to set me free.

A strange peace engulfs me
as I stare up at this great abode
its timeless, precious knowledge at hand
the truth prevails beyond life itself.

And as I walk step by step away
this great abode I leave behind
A realization sublime in my mind
Like many others in the years to come.

Shiva Veenadhara, the Great Musician.

Waking up to the sweet notes of the veena pouring into my ears is a very peaceful experience in a strange way, an experience so rare that its exotic. I was having a peaceful afternoon nap, escaping the burning afternoon sun outside, a fairly deep sleep which gave way to a silent consciousness that woke the mind, the senses, my being and gently brought me back to reality. And on the way I wonder, if I were to wake up to such sweet notes I really wouldn't have nothing to lose.

Sweet notes of tunes that ease the senses, that make all problems disappear and that which elevate the aesthetics of the notes in the mind. I envied emperor Akbar, for his life every day was a sweet journey laiden with notes that were strung together by Tansen. Classical notes with subtle nuanses that he didnt just appreciate but felt exaltation in the soul with it. Such peace that the mind rests even when awake. Akbar slept and woke up with the tunes played by Tansen, what a luxury, sweet notes that raise the senses, warm your blood, bring life to your muscles while you rise back to consciousness.

As I watched my cousin rhythmically pull at the strings to produce these tunes that flowed through the house she followed it with the physics of playing the instrument. This brought in the thought of Shiva Veenadhara, a form so graceful and gentle that it reveals in complete form the very exponent of performing arts. The great teacher, the Lord of all music, the notes just flow as he plays with his gentle fingers, the cosmic tunes of existance and life, that which reverberates in every being, universal music that appeals to all!

Shiva veenadhara, the river of music flows forth from Him, the river of consciousness, that could not just wake up the soul but cause it to rain, to shine at the mind's will. Such was the power of Tansen's music, that he brought the rain down to cool his heated body that didn't withstand the very notes he played. Such passion for music, is so hard to find now... its not about skill and performance, its about worship that it takes you to a different realm where every note, every sound is a new world of miracles revealed. Such was the music then.. purity in its fullest that it milked the very potency within it and let it flow to all those who seek its pleasure.

Music is about reviving the soul, merging into the supreme, its not just about tapping the hands and feet.

Rameshwaram - Temple for a cosmic bath

Temple of faith infinite
Temple of baths unlimited
Temple of a million hopes
Temple of over 4000 pillars
Temple of 22 sacred wells
Temple of the 9 grahas(navagrahas)
Temple of 3 prakarams
Temple of 3 Shiva Lingas
To worship just 1 Lord - Shiva



Rameshwaram: An island off the Tamil Nadu coast
Pamban bridge, is a name so familiar and yet a feeling of fear came in when I remembered what my mother had told me, "Its a low bridge over the sea and scary when you see the lashing waters of the waves in turmoil just dashing against the old bridge as the train moves on swaying with the wind, towards the coast of Rameshwaram."

This is a beautiful sight, to see a vast expanse of water below my feet as I stood at the door feeding my eyes with the early morning sunlight reflecting over its waters. This had to be Pamban and it fitted the description perfectly. The early morning sun colored the blue sky orange and my heart felt light for I had finally made it to Rameshwaram!

Its a small town, smelling of fish everywhere, with no waves for the sea God was cursed by Lord Rama for having destroyed the Navagriha while he worshipped them. Lord Rama had cursed, "there shall be no waves here" and sure enough there are none. A sleepy little town that lives around the temple, where its not too strange to see people walking around dripping wet for its the land that promises you the longest shower, a shower that doesn't clean your body but cleanses your soul!

I started first with well water; being told it was important before I made it to the sea. Soon I descended into the sea, wading through the water to do my prayers there for an hour taking 3 dips in the water before and after my recital of assigned mantras. I walked back towards the temple, to be told my shower has just about begun.

With an old man leading the way holding a bucket and rope in his hand, I walked on, from pillar to wells through a wet labyrinth of halls. I stopped at various points within the temple complex to get a view of the rising sun, having my vision covered with a sheet of silvery water just pouring down my head. A sheet of water, often sweet, often salty and sometimes in between, a sheet of water crystal clear with the sun locked in every drop!

The temple floor has never been dry, with people trooping in for a complete shower. It is an open bath, with pure well water washing away my past karmas. A bath I should not wash away with a regular bath later.

“Yahi hamaaraa samskar hai, we should follow our sampradayam.”

Devipattinam, Mainland India, 1 hour from Rameshwaram:

Having had my cosmic bath, I moved on to Devipattinam, a place so silent and hosting my ticket to a better life. The Navagraha are 9 rocks of various sizes that stand out of seawater occasionally disappearing with the tide. I descended into the water thanking God for the grainy sandy floor, for I really didn’t want to know what else lived among these waters.

"Vettalai paaku, pazham and sarpam" - beetle leaf with bananas and a silver snake, was an offering of fruit I made to the Navagriha, also hoping for assistance to know where Rahu was, and the curious people of Devipattinam are most willing to help with that. These are not temple sculptures; they are large chunks of rock in water, with peculiar shapes expecting you to know them before you show up. Having placed the "sarpa" at Rahu, I circum-ambulated the navagriha in the water, leaving no room for doubt. I stood in the water, looked at the sun and recited my sankalpa:

My salutations to the Navagriha - to Rahu, ketu, Shani, Surya, Chandra, Shukra...and I cant remember the rest - all this in Sanskrit.

My last deed of the day before I caught the afternoon train back to Chennai was to visit Lord Shiva's shrine. I went straight to a beautifully lit up sanctum, with plenty of oil lamps. Deep within is a Shiva linga, mythologically placed there by Sita, originally made out of sand and called Ramalinga or Rameshwara, while Hanuman was sent to Kailasa for a Shiva Linga and didn’t make it in time for the muhurtham. It is a strong Linga, which Hanuman could not uproot, when he was upset that Lord Rama didn’t wait for his return. A potent Linga that would save Lord Rama from any curse, an eventuality of the death of so many people including Ravana in the great war of the Ramayana, a ritual advised by Sage Agastiyar to Rama to be performed, and hence the temple, that hosts it much later in time.

Among the various shrines that Rameshwaram temple hosts are also two other Lingas that were brought by Hanuman and eventually installed and worshipped here as well known as the Visvalinga, for which abhishekam is done well before the main shrine hosting Sita's Linga is worshipped. Rameshwaram relives the events of the Ramayana bringing every aspect of it to life. It’s an endless list of myths and legends starting with a cosmic shower from 22 wells each of which tasted so different.

A disgusted Brahmin priest once said:
Science wale bolte hein ye artisan well hai. Ab hum kya bolein?

The spider and the elephant.

Thiruvanaikkaval, Srirangam: We would love to consider that we are super intelligent beings on this planet. Well let’s hold onto our egos a bit and take a look at this story.

There was once a vast forest that surrounded the interior lands around the Kaveri river in Trichy district. It was a forest rich with Jambu trees under one of which was installed a Shiva Linga. Back in the serene world that surrounded this Linga lived an elephant that used to come and worship the Lord every day. The elephant was an ardent devotee of the Lord.

At the same time there was yet another unassuming devotee who used to worship the Lord with as much devotion. A spider used to live around the shrine and tie a web above it so that the leaves from the Jambu tree would not fall on the Lord himself. But there was a problem for every time the spider made his web to protect the Lord, the elephant would destroy it thinking it was absolute sacrilege. This resulted in a mounting fight between the spider and the elephant, a massive clash of egos.

Finally the spider decided one day that it would not take this any more. The next day when the elephant came to worship the Lord he as usual decided to destroy the web the spider had spun over the Linga. This time the spider got smarter and entered into the elephant’s trunk and bit him. The following duel killed both the elephant and the spider. This is when Lord Shiva appeared before both of them, and said that they both had pleased him well with their devotion.

The spider in his next birth was born as King Kochchengan who built the current temple at Thiruvanaikkaval, in the island city of Srirangam to worship Lord Shiva. Interestingly, he built the sanctum sanctorum in such a way that no elephant would be able to enter the Gharbha Griha. Hence this is the only temple where the Garbha Griha is built low, has a very small vestibule (Antarala) and an even smaller chamber within which the Lingam resides. The entrance is extremely small such that no elephant can even find its way in. The only way to view the Lord is through a Jali window placed in front of Nandi, through which the Lord can be seen. It is considered very auspicious to be able to view the Lord through the horns of Nandi Bull through the Jali window.

The story of Lord Shiva’s temple at Thiruvanaikkaval does not end here; they say that even if the Kaveri river dries up in peak summer, the water within this shrine chamber never dries. There is water that surrounds this Linga the year round even if there is extreme heat around this area of interior Tamil Nadu. Such is the power of the Lord. This temple at Thiruvanakkaval is also called Jambukeswara temple as an extension of the Jambu tree under which the Linga was originally installed.

This is about Thiruvanaikkaval, there is more to the spider. Incase tomorrow you decide to clean up the spider webs in your Puja room, think twice before hitting the spiders. Spiders are great devotees of the Lord, and if there is serious devotion in your house, spiders will come and make webs within this section of the house. So next time you decide to clean up, leave the spiders alone!

Photo courtesy: templenet.com

Dvaita verses Advaita philosophy

Ramanuja says that in the age of Kaliyuga, a person can get moksha or salvation from bondage and hence the cycle of rebirth if he/she simply utters the words "Om Namo Narayanan". He also says this can be done with one sitting right in the middle of samsara bandhana (or what we call ties with family life/ society so on).

I will flatly disagree with this theory in its literal sense. Lets take a good life today, a family with wife/hubby and children, a good income, a posh house, great friends without comparison and no rat race to prove self worth. Its happiness all the way, but life will never have it so simple. There will be problems. And problems do not get dealt with without emotion and emotions bring with it unrest in the mind, fear and misery. Therefore is the recital of "Om namo Narayana" good enough to rid one self off that misery.

Ramanuja said this to those people who were illiterate and yes, you and I are largely illiterate in the field of spiritualism today.

These are some of Ramanuja's teachings:

1) You can follow spiritualism while following a life within the social network of your family and society.

My argument: Yes! With nagging parents talking investment in property, a spouse contemplating a brand new swanky car, a crying child going spoilt with added peer pressure, a servant mopping the house with her share of constant jabber, a cribbing sibling with clashing egos (am not referring to guns yet!), and not to forget your noisy neighbor playing Led Zeppelin (old fashioned?) right through Sunday morning while you are trying to concentrate on worship - "Om Namo Narayana" - Wow what peace! This is ignoring the calls to Allah, or Halleluja, or "Kaushalya supraja" blaring through loudspeakers at 5a.m. There is nothing wrong in recital of the mantra; there is every thing wrong with your environment. Where is the peace? Parents, spouse, children… When is this entire saga going to end, where is the silence and tranquility. Is this the life you chose for yourself or have you accepted that there is no escape. Or are there other ways of leading life, this being the most common and safe approach?

2) The second teaching is, after you have done your duty as householders you can retire to the forest and go into seclusion, but can always come to see the family. For e.g. meet your grand daughter on the day of her wedding or see her off to the US. Meaning you don’t entirely cut off from the family. But when you are involved in worship keep the family out of your mind.

My argument: How does this work. If my grand daughter is unwell, where will my mind be? Human bondage brings worry with it as much as it brings happiness. Both add to suffering from two ends of the same spectrum called Maya. If I continue to remain attached to the family I can quite forget my trip to realization for its completely impossible. Human bondage is a vicious cycle that one cannot get out of easily but has to put in complete effort to want to do so. Multi tasking of role-play and finding the self is completely impossible given our minds don’t even rest in one place in today's world.

3) The third teaching says that reciting "Om Namo Narayana" is all that it takes to attain salvation.

My argument: Maybe then, not now. If spiritualism was that simple we would all be saints by now, which of course as we can see is not the case. Happiness starts with the self. To exuberate happiness and goodness to all, the concentration should first be on the self. If I am not happy there is no way I am going to make you feel happy. Hence comfort with the self is far more important before one decides to look beyond his/herself.

My personal opinion on the teachings of Shankaracharya and Ramanuja is that both these saints were right in their approach, but with a difference. We need both approaches to be worldly wise and understand life and live through it. The philosophy of dvaita is required to understand the meaning of bondage, its character and hence its futility since it is Maya and only sucks you into its "Matrix". But it is needed nonetheless for the lack of that knowledge renders you completely ignorant for you will not understand peace if you don’t know what trouble is!

The philosophy of Advaita is needed to be brought in for it renders you compassionate and once all bondage is broken, the mind is set free, there is no pain nor love but pure goodness that flows from within to all creatures, to man, woman, mother, child, ant, cat or cockroach. There is no difference between the person in front of you defined by role-play as "mom/dad" or "daughter/son" or "wife/husband" or "stranger/thief" or "pet dog/cat Tommy”. Each is a life around you and detachment only leads to looking at all of them as one drop of a larger ocean of which you are also a part. Hence finding yourself is most important for the truth you look for lies within.

Love of the Lord brings with it Bhakti which helps along the path of emotional spirituality while you apply human logic while living through life. Love can be for Lord Shiva (who helps you search for yourself) or Lord Vishnu (who helps you understand the world around you). The Mother Goddess...is for stronger willed people, for more potent experiences that might burn you out if you are not careful.

Great teachers have helped us re-look at our lives. Maybe its time now for us to unlearn...

The temple of the Self

A beat of the drum
A tap of my feet
A move of my limbs
A strange freedom of the senses

A constant vibration
Deep within the heart
A new world revealed
A gateway to leave human bondage

A stretch of my breath
A long stretch so fulfilling
Purity of the self
Fresh like the morning dew

Constant warmth within
A flame lit up forever
Igniting my passion to live
A life of my own

A source of energy
My elixir of life
My potent energy within
The Lord takes control of me

I am just a moving body
A world elsewhere
A place no one else belongs
A world divine

My body a temple
To worship
Built strong to house
The divine Lord within

My head the pinnacle
Of all thought and action
Of goodness and value
Of faith and complete surrender

The path to heaven
A path through me
A part to the greater truth
Why seek for it beyond me?

Definition of goodness in the Mahabharata

The Mahabharata: In the Mahabharata Kunti is considered the epitome of all goodness, an honorable and respectable queen mother to her children the Pancha Pandavas. Yet we fail to see the fact that she is responsible for the birth of her first son Karna, and the pressures of having come from a royal background does not allow her to acknowledge him as her son. How good a mother was she?

She didn’t bring him up, she denied him his experience of having a mother, and to top it all she asked him to use his “Divyastra” just once, hoping that it would miss Arjuna and therefore not take his life. Is discrimination towards children right to the point of taking a life? How do we expect to see Kunti as a good mother through Karna’s eye and yet he held no grudge against her.

Karna is known to be a very noble person in the Mahabharata, and everyone except Dhuryodhana, the so-called most evil person in the story, wronged him. Karna was a great human being and the one and only known threat to Arjuna when it came to archery or when it came to winning the hand of Draupadi. The insult bestowed upon him by Draupadi was one he would never forget. Was it right on her part to publicly insult Karna in a court with full audience during her Swayamwara, on the grounds of his birth? How do we expect to see Draupadi as a noble woman through Karna’s eye?

Now lets take Dhuryodhana, the proclaimed villain in the Mahabharata. He had to fight for the throne since it was not even his fault that his father was a blind king and that questioned his eligibility to the throne. Would you in his position not take objection if such power were denied to you, should you have been the possible heir to the throne of Hasthinapura? Of course you would hate your cousins no matter how noble they were.

In all this chaos, the Pandavas have been the worst sadists when it came to Karna, for they kept referring to his caste, as a charioteer’s son, and that he is not of noble blood. Are Yudhishtira and Arjuna the epitomes of Dharma, when their noble birth only fills them with contempt and fear towards Karna because he is just as good despite being born in a lower caste? (Of course they didn’t know he was their brother but putting down someone on the grounds of birth is just a clear indicator of what pride they had!) And at this moment Dhuryodhana was a good man to make Karna his friend, to acknowledge his presence and respect him as a man of valor. Then why do we consider Dhuryodhana an evil being? There was goodness in him and at no cost was it going to display itself towards the Pandavas. Through all these insults that Karna had to live through, Kunti maintains absolute silence.

Therefore how do we judge goodness? Do we say Karna was wrong because he joined the Kauravas because at that moment between Yudhistira (the epitome of goodness and Dharma) and Dhuryodhana (the most evil), it was Dhuryodhana who stretched out a friendly hand? Now is that not goodness, irrespective of Karna's background?

Or do we say Krishna was good when all the political manipulation took place thanks to his ardent bias towards the Pandavas. He didn’t do things as a mark of goodness; he did politically correct things, which need not be defined as good. And what did Karna do to deserve the fate he finally got! Maybe it is seriously time to start thinking. Karna was the best son of them all!

Disowned by his own mother
Insulted by his own brothers
Respected by so called villains
Wronged by the Lord Himself
A good-natured man sees such fate
When the Lord himself chose not to protect him
Who will believe in Goodness?
When goodness itself is being ignored.
By the very Incarnation of Lord
Who tried to spread goodness in this world.
Karna was indeed the most noble of them all
Such was the ocean of goodness within him
That he gifted it away to the world before he died.
A symbol of perfection
That beats the very Lord Krishna Himself.

A finger for the future, an angula for the past

I held up my hands in prayer to God this morning and as I opened them I stared into them and my palm and wondered about the power they held. My fingers smeared and shining yellow with turmeric powder, reminded me about the life I have chosen to lead. A life of orthodoxy, one of purity as prescribed in the shastras, one that states that purity of the body is very important apart from that of the mind.

It was a moment of bliss, a decision I had made to follow this path. As I stepped into it deeper, I came to realize the meaning of all that has been told to us as kids. Today I have slowly begun to realize the reason for this lifestyle and more than anything else I have learnt to appreciate every moment of it. I stared up at the portrait of the Lord, smiling down, enigmatic and yet calm. He seemed to speak a million truths, both big and small through the flame of the oil lamp as it flickered in front of me.

It is a small wick, a bright flame, eating into the wick, sucking out the oil as it lives through the worship. A potent flame that needs the oil to survive, I remembered what my Guru had said. The flame is important, for it is the path that connects you with the Supreme, hence the size of the flame should definitely not exceed the division of the angula (finger) on my hand. The flame shows me the path, the character of which is defined by the height of one division on my index finger. One division, a whole world undiscovered, one finger engulfs a complete world of serious mathematics.

I turned my hands to see a series of lines that define my character, my identity in this universe. These almost looked like they were my blueprints in this world, in this space that we call reality. I thought about the importance of these fingers of mine, that each finger held a truth, a truth that leads man to paradise, undefined by modern science, lets say unknown to modern science.

A finger or an angula has been a basic system of measurement in olden times. One angula clearly defined the base, the root to an entire temple construction. It’s amazing that we could probably find out the size of Rajaraja Chola’s finger based on the basic system of measurement he would have used to build something as superb and mammoth as the Brihasdeshwara temple at Tanjore.

Imagine a ritual, to prepare the ground for the building of this magnificent temple, a ritual that defines the man building it is Rajaraja Chola, of a particular Gotram, a particular naksharam, in a particular yuga, on say Somavara (day), in a particular month, in a particular year, considered auspicious, as the ruling king of the Cholas in the south of Bharat desha, so on and so forth… in a series of mystical words that enter the ears of the devas and super Gods who now have placed him and have accepted his offering of building a temple on this earth, the soil of which is so pure and powerful.

And then the yajna fire rises, and the offerings of ghee, herbal twigs, fruits, flower, camphor, honey and jaggery are made to complete this grand start. Now the funds roll out, the construction begins and as every new pinnacle on this gigantic pyramidal roof is reached a huge ramp is built to move the final cover stone (stupi) up the tall vimana. Such an imposing structure, so massive and awe inspiring, that it reduces our presence to nothing. Would anyone even stop to think that the basic measure started with his angula or index finger!!! A small measure, imprinting Rajaraja Chola’s very being into every stone that was cut and put into place, inscriptions that spoke of his greatness somewhere hid the fact that yes, he had left his blueprints here long after he was gone…

Now that is Immortality...all bundled into a finger... this is leaving a legacy behind.

Home is where the soul belongs

Home! Home means different things to different people. Home means family to some and complete intrigue to others. I have a home, what I call family, familiarity, security… home, that which we all cling to. Home, a place where a bunch of scared souls live, saving each other from the final reality…when its seriously time to depart…

Home, is where the heart is! Home is where there is excitement unknown, when the heart yells out and says, this is a free world and I can do what I want and not care about it… My heart is free, my mind is free, and my life is free. I am free. Free from all that I call bondage, expectation, contempt, control, power… life?
Home is where the mind decides it has had enough; where the mind decides it wants to rest because it can’t handle anymore of the stupidity this world around displays thinking it is attitude. The mind rests, evolving suddenly, waking up to the reality called LIFE, and that is the only one I get and what the hell am I doing wasting it with a bunch of nonsensical thoughts!!

Home is where silence resides, in the deep corners of the mind, revived every time the mind takes a dip into life as it is and escapes from all that we call responsibility and role play… Home, where its my world, the world I make for myself and anyone who loves and appreciates the value of this life and its true meaning is invited…

Home is where the Lord lives, silent watching and waiting for me to go back to. Home where the Lord, just overwhelms me with Himself, and I simply get distracted and looked around for Him in people… what a fool I have been. The Lord is ever so pervasive, ever so kind and loving, ever so sweet, ever so overwhelming that words are not enough to express His beauty. Wow! what a character, what a feeling… that the Lord can trigger this ecstasy, this bliss, this intoxication, this wildness, this fire, this energy, this excitement, this happiness, this awakening, this life inside me without even revealing Himself!

What are we wasting our lives for, taking care of each other when we are all going to go home alone, anyway… why is it so tough to accept this truth that your way and mine are the same back home, just timed differently…
It’s a dark forest, of fear and suffocation… but it’s the way home, the last walk home, with peace and faith that Lord Shiva is there to guide, divine Lord.. Oh God take me home!!

Infact in the current state i am in its just ... HHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMM.... i think you get the drift!

An Ode to Mangalam Pati

Srirangam Tamil Nadu, time unknown:

Mangalam Pati is an orthodox lady I heard, oval faced, lean, always in a 9 yards saree and wearing gold frame spectacles. She has sharp eyes, is disciplined and is everything an orthodox tyranical pati should be. She wears a small gold chain around herself and a larger beaded gold rudraksha around her neck. She rules the family, her laws are orthodox but not to everyone, its only to the deserving. For mangalam pati teaches only the deserving, the essential meaning of life. Learning is a tough game, with a million "thopakarnams" thrown in along with innumerable "kuttus" should you make a mistake, but its only now when we are old that we realize how much that training helped.

An old pati in an age old agraharam. Mangalam pati does not come downstairs at all. She doesnt talk to all, well not to anyone at the first meet. When one goes to meet her, they wash their hands and feet and preferable have a shining jadagam against their name. Mangalam pati loves jadagams.

She has a soft corner for one of her grandsons, and what a soft corner it was. He was made to learn the laws of orthodoxy, the laws of karma, the laws in the dharma shastra, the laws of the agamas...lets say the laws of good living in short, of course with his fair share of "thopakarnams" and "kuttus". Mangalam pati taught him to face the world, the world of karma, giving lessons on defence strategies of parigarams. Mangalam pati taught all she knew to the grandson she loved the most.

It was another silent evening, the sun had just set. Mangalam pati lit the oil lamp and sat silently in her room. A sacred room I would say. The children ran around the house proclaiming to all not to go upstairs for Mangalam pati was talking to Lord Ganesha! No one dared to disturb her, except her most favourite grandson. He took the guts to walk up to her room.

In the silent room sat Mangalam pati, the oil lamp light glittering in her gold spectacle frame. Not a sound, not a movement in the air. Her rudraksha gently formed a stream of gold to the floor.

And on the floor lay a yellow line ever growing.

A simple sight, a profound moment. Witnessed by her only favourite grandchild. Never again questioned and hushed away, the yellow line had more than a line to say.

Grantham, the ancient language of the Gods has strange ways of sending the message across. In a matter of hours the day was gone, the world moved on and Mangalam pati sat silent, enlightened. What a life! Mangalam pati was indeed a very dynamic woman.

One fine day, her grandson went for his dance performance. He insisted she come to see it and in a gentle voice she said "You go ahead, I will come". That was the last he saw of her. Mangalam pati died that night, but she had done well for herself. The Lord took her with Him, to his Abode, Kailasa.

I sat listening to this story on Mangalam Pati, I believed I had never met Mangalam pati and yet I knew her so well. Mangalam pati was my only connect, to the strange new world I live in now. Strange it is, blessed I am, to have once been her grandchild.

Mangalam pati, mangalam mangalam.

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Terms: (Gio, this is for you!)

Pati - grandmother,
Kuttu - a knock on the head when you dont do something right. Hurts most often.
Thopakarnam - to hold ones ears and descend to the floor, squat and rise all the way up. Typically based on a count, which gets tougher as the count increases. It is a punishment to children when they do not listen, still practised in old indian households.

Its my heart - the Abode of the Lord

A place in my heart
Just for the Lord
To dance his way through
Its inner chambers

It’s a wild heart
Crazy in love
Just that the lord
Knows where to hide

It’s a gentle heart,
He moves touching its walls
Every now and then
Sensitive to my soul.

A big heart,
To hold his magnanimity
All his glory
Within one small self

Who said greatness was big
It’s all in here
One small heart
Only for the Lord who lives within

A heart that beats
A rhythm to his feet
He dances
Igniting my soul every moment

A heart carefree
Open forever
Lets Him go wherever he wishes
He never leaves

A heart so pure
Clear and fresh
It’s his breath
I feel the chill every day

A heart so wild
It plays with me,
A cosmic conspiracy
Right here within my being.

A precious heart
Just for him
The Lord dances wild
Crushing my ignorance.

A strong heart
Holds His truth
A form I do not know
A form potent within

It’s a warm heart
Houses Him
As he dances and moves
Complete in his fiery self.

It’s a heart that aches
Aches to see the Lord
Finally he would reveal
His truth some day.

It’s a heart
That yarns for Him
When he hides away
Deep within my being.

Its my heart
Like a thousand petal lotus
Cradles the lord
A part of me forever

Kailasa - The Abode of Lord Shiva

A high mountain
Cold winds blow
A forbidden world
Silent, constant forever

A majestic mountain
Kissed by a thin cloud
That ambitiously climbs
To meet its peak

An imposing mountain
That echoes silent reverberation
Within itself
One single syllable, complete.

A mountain
Untouched and clean
Far from human madness
Pure and hidden away

A mountain that gives life
As the rainbow drapes it
In it’s many colors
Pure energy, pure nature, pure love

A mountain so silent
The abode of the Lord
A complete world of mine
Simple paradise

A mountain I behold
With my inner eye
My home, with the Lord
Beautiful home of mine

A dance into Lord Nataraja's heart

Kapaleeshwarar temple, Mylapore Chennai: This is a strange happiness I felt when I went to the temple last Saturday morning. I had my ipod plugged into my ears and had Ray Charles playing while I walked through the Kapaleeshwarar koil in Mylapore Chennai.

You know, much as it sounds incongruous, to listen to blues and stare at the Lord within the walls of the garbha griha, it’s quite an experience in itself.

It is a strange combination, to stare at the Lord in all His alankaram, far within those deep walls almost wet with the humidity around. The whole floor is mine, the music in my ears, the rhythm in my feet, the excitement in my heart and suddenly all the ganas appear in a wild line playing across the ceiling. The flames dance around the dark walls, the rock creating the ambience of complete high with the smoke rising within the chamber, highlighting the ganas as they strangely begin to move with the beat within my heart. Dim lighting, and I follow the line of ganas in rhythmic movement, a dance of intoxication, a dance of freedom, a dance with no inhibitions, a dance of love, a dance of complete consciousness, a dance where only the Lord and I exist.

The drums reverberate, the beat charging my heart, the music relaxing the grey cells... there is no room for thought. It’s the moment of living, the moment without worry, the moment of bliss, the moment of no bondage, the moment when the heart is in perfect beat with the feet, the whole body has a single rhythm running within itself. And there He stands, in all His finery, Lord Nataraja Himself. An the music mounts, and the heavens open and begin to sing along, the Lord descends from his seat, holds me and leads the way, the whole hall lights up and the Gods shower down flowers into the hall, now beaming with fire torches across the walls.

The Lord dances with me, a dance of love, gentle steps, the moon glowing among his locks, his warm eyes, the snake sways along, a ribbon of moonlight, as he dances to the ever growing rhythm in my heart. I merge into him, with the Lord himself, such love, such warmth, such happiness, such beauty, such a sea of calm… silence, peace.

A glorious welcome into the family of the Lord, into the world of Kailasa, the whole hall now dances in perfect unison, everyone onto the floor. It’s a welcome into the kingdom of heaven! Its love love, love, crazy love! A whole new world, dancing with Lord Shiva down the hall, the music all around me, as Lord Nataraja leads the way, the ganas follow behind us…A dance into life, a different life, free, no hang ups, no hard feelings, just pure love. Truly is the kingdom of love, love, love crazy love!

Thank you Ray Charles… Thank you God! What a place, what a song!

27 steps around Nandikeshwara

It's been an interesting week at Thiruvannamalai, it always has something new to offer on a platter. I would believe getting personalized attention towards enhancing my spiritual thirst has brought me a long way. It was on my janma nakshatram that I was advised to do the 27 rounds of circum-ambulation around Nandi, and finally whisper my wish into His ear.

27 rounds around Nandi was a small walk through my life. Nandi sat in silent meditation, dhyanam - a state of eternal bliss. A state I wonder whether I would ever achieve. It woud be such intoxication to sit permanently in front of the Lord, facing him, a constant conversation in silence with no disturbance from the outside world. Nandi, silent in Dhyanam was probably unaware that I made silent rounds around Him wishing every minute I was in His place.

27 rounds, flashed my life around me, as I watched myself walk around the temple alone, in the darkness looking at ancient walls, whisper into my ears that there is a lot more within those walls and I have just about started to scratch the surface. Each step forward, felt like I was leaving the world of misery behind. Each breath, fresh and pure into a realm untouched.

27 rounds that were watched by sadhus around the temple wondering who I was and what I was doing. A slight disbelief that a woman clad in jeans and t-shirt can be "religious". A slight curiosity that looks might be deceptive, that we might lead strange lives and appear western in attire but are pretty much traditional at heart.

27 rounds around an ancient temple that has been renovated a million times over and now disfigured bearing no resemblance to its original self. Yet a silent aura around it brings back the rhythm of drums in my ears and makes my feet dance to its tunes. It was a dark evening, no moon, but enough light to give a feel of the hill towering behind me, protecting me from all known dangers.

27 rounds, each round like worship to the 27 forms of the Lord, of which I have just begun to discover Him slowly, one form after the other. Pleasant forms, fierce forms, meditative and enigmatic, all rolled into One. Lord Shiva - gentle, caring, warm, forever protecting and calm. Silence drapes the walls of the temple, each tassel laced by moths and spider webs, permanent residents of this small heavenly abode. How I wish I could have remained here for ever.

Finally I stood in front of Nandi, holding up my hands on his horns, and looking at the divine form of the Lord through the window of his heart as I placed my other hand above His tail. Oh Nandi, I wish to be as lucky as you some day. To stare at the Lord forever, in complete dhyanam, complete conciousness.

The dance of enlightenment

The sound of the damaru
A new life is born
A new rhythm set in divine motion
The dance of life
The dance of procreation
It is the churning of the ocean of life.
The Lord meditates, the world is stable
All is bright and peaceful
He brings in calm and warmth
Crushes the head of ignorance
Performing the dance of enlightenment
He is complete with charge
And with those thunderous steps
He sways in wild motion
Destroying all darkness
The flames of enlightenment
Form rings of light
Such radience, such dynamism, such grace
Oh what a sight to behold
These very flames burn all ignorance
And raise one to ever lasting bliss
There is silence on His face
A vision of another world
In the glow of the crescent moon
Cradled around gentle locks, the jatas
Oh burn me in the flames of enlightenment
Take me to that new beginning
Like a new born, innocent and beautiful.
Like a child in Your arms forever.

The flames of Shiva Lingodhbhava

I have reached the gates of heaven
It was a tough slow walk up
On hard pebbled pathway
laiden with still air and burning hot

Tiresome is the walk of life
A walk you have to make
To see the path to heaven
I am truely blessed with this grace.

As I approach the gardens of life
I feel the peace descend
I hear the music in the air
I feel the chill on my being

A small house cradled in green
Not a soul, just complete silence
A small river flows within
the deep crevasses of the mountain

They call it the mountain of fire
And yet there is water within
Life giving water when you hear its sound
Soul bearing strength when you drink it.

A small house in the mountains
A small shrine within its deep walls
A small lamp lights up the whole chamber
A small flame it lights in my heart.

My eyes close, my thoughts fade
As I feel the warmth of the flame
My soul searches for that lost land
Deep within my being.

I have been so lost, I have never known
The purpose of my existance
My heart sinks with sorrow
Pity over my lost self

My body still, my thoughts gone
my breath slow, my vision in haze
I stare at the wick, as it burns in flames
In a silent sea of light it displays

A sea so still, a mirror to me
So crystal clear, so new to feel
The oil holds up a vision to me
Within it a silent dancing flame.
A reflection so clear, so overwhelming
As the wick gives way to the Lord
He stands within His stony self
As the fire glows around him.

A throne of wick around a wall of fire
O Lingodhbhava, Thy great form
As endless heat and flames rise
Showing me the path to infinity

A boar digs deep so futile
A swan flies high in vanity
The boar pardoned in the warm flames of love
The swan burnt in the flames of pride.

The Lord stands in all Magesty
As the wall of flames cradles Him
Its rhythmic sway around the wick
As He feeds them with everlasting love

A vision so real, a feeling so wild
As I continue my walk of life
The world has realized my fiery side
They say they see it in my eyes.

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Based on the mythology of Shiva Lingodhbhava(where Shiva appears within a mountain of fire that rises out of the sea and breaks the war between Brahma and Vishnu challenging them to find the ends of His infinite flaming Linga.) this coupled with a trip to Skandashram Thiruvannamalai.

Bhojeshwar Mandir, host of the largest Ancient Shiva Linga.

Bhojpur Madhya Pradesh:
There was this little kingdom ruled by Raja Bhoj in the 10th cen AD, who had very ambitious plans for his kingdom. Ambitious would be an understatement, for when we go visiting the now present Bhoj it gives us a glimpse of this great vision.

Locked into itself within a natural fort of hills with a little river flowing by is the land of Bhoj. Residing within the lap of a lush green untouched landscape among rocky cliffs and watered by a clear river flowing by, is this ancient little town that once boasted of great wealth. Its a slow life into paradise, where low boats ferry you down the river to the great dam built centuries ago. Big bolders of rock capture the water as it flows through bringing refreshing water to the land of Bhoj. The air is heavy with silence peace and tranquility, an atmosphere so absent in our current lives.

And right in the midst of this sea of green, in everlasting silence, stands a single chamber large and hollow with fresh cool air. It doesnt boast of elaborate craftsmanship, it doesnt boast of a kingdom once alive, it just brings back a towering concept that looms around in the mind as one walks up towards the huge structure - Bhojeshwar temple.

Sheer rock, heavy and large, piled up one over the other make up the main structure of this one chamber that needs no explanation. The darkness within, revealing towering pillars holding up the roof allowing partial light into the chamber. A hint of scupture gives an idea of what magneficence there would have been in the minds of those who planned this temple.

A silent magestic shiva linga once worshipped, now displays itself within this stark interior. No lamps, no flowers, just spotlit within its hollow interior. The sun's flames, the only light, the rain, the only water that bathes this linga, the wind, the only carrier of fragrance of flowers when all else is forgotten. The Lord stands there silent, an imposing self, still shining bright against polished stone.
Imagine a tune being hummed within these walls, as the air carries the notes and the sound echoes within the chamber, ringing in your ears. You wake up to that underlying rhythm of drums as the Lord dances in the heart of anyone who beholds him in his silent abode.

A temple half built, a vision half finished, a ramp half used, a roof half closed, a wall half built, a prayer that rings within its interiors, but a thought complete, an emotion felt.

Stone by stone, a temple in shape, put together with gigantic walls and pillars. What do we remove and what do we keep, what do we finish and what do we renovate. This temple stands all silent on a rocky ground holding up bolders of rock that once belonged to Raja bhoj. A deep breath in the silence, a thougth so crystal clear, a temple so imposing, even when its half finished... Such was the vision of Raja bhoj.

Please click on the pictures to see the enlarged view.
Photo courtesy: http://photos1.blogger.com http://www.shunya.net/

Offerings to Lord Shiva.

The realm of Vishvakarma
revealed to man a world of secrecy
brought down in stone.
Sinking the energy into the rock
from a world deep within my being.

I step towards it
gate by gate
cross each entrance with a heavy heart,
there is devotion, ther is fear
to truely realize what lies within.

As I enter, He cuts out the light
Images smile down from the walls
the Lord appears in various forms
to guide me through the darkness.

A step at a time a coconut in hand
I carry myself, my being with flowers
I am an offering I make to the Lord
to be one with Him in complete conciousness

The air is still, there is not a soul
the lamp lights dont flicker the walls are bare,
the world is silent
and the sacred hymns reverberate

there is fragrance in the air
there is warmth in the room
the Lord resides silent and still
the flames reveal the formless in stone
drawing me closer to Himself

My body behind, my soul in hand
the priest raises me into the air
he pulls off my ego
my curtain of illusion
and in a rhythmic flow of prayer reveals
to my third eye
the energy deep within.

The air stirs in vigor
as I dash to the floor
my ignorance broken,
my being revealed
the juice of potent energy flows out
to merge with the Lord

I do not exist in my body
I left that far behind
there is no breath, there is no thirst
there is no hunger, I know not fear
the priest raises the fire

My path to heaven
The Lord awaits at the door
to hold my hand
and lead me into a constant world
of complete conciousness.

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P.S. An offering of coconut and flowers is always made to the Lord at the main shrine. This is a possible significance.