Reflecting on Plato's "Allegory of the cave"

I was this candle that never burned
I was this piece of matter that exists in this universe without purpose
I was this drop of life that thought I breathe and therefore I am
 
There was a deep cave in the forest, a cave so dark with an entrance so small that no light managed to cross through the mouth of the cave to light up its walls inside. But something was strange about this cave for within its walls lived a group of people. They had lived there for many years with their hands tied and their faces to the wall that stood opposite to the mouth of the cave. This was their life, this is how they had always been, this is what they had been taught to do and this was how they existed. Every day the only awakening they had was the changing colors of the wall in front of them. It turned white in the early hours of the morning, moving to a bright yellow by noon and changing to a glowing orange by evening and then to inky blackness by night. And they were happy to live, in this familiar little world of known comforts to see these colors repeat themselves on the wall of the cave.

For some this was a common occurrence, for a few others it didn’t strike a chord at all but for one man in their midst, it was a growing miracle, that flowered every day and faded by night to bloom again in the morning. He was a romantic, a poet in his heart and though the others mocked at him, he sang to himself, certain that there was more to these miraculous colors but strange as it may sound, none of them ever turned to see the mouth of the cave to ever figure out what was really happening. They continued to live as they were, creating imaginary problems in their lives and solving them as they went along, the only assurance in their reality was the periodic change in the colors on the wall.

It was one such day, very normal to their lives as the white turned to yellow and then to a glow of orange. But strangely that night there was a burning glow of red on the wall instead of the inky blackness. This sent shock through all those within, leading to fear of the unfamiliar and horror over the change in regular pattern. The glow of red grew brighter and danced around the walls, leaving them puzzled wondering what kind of strange heavenly phenomenon could this be? Speculations ran wild, sentiments were hurt as people hurled fiery words at each other insisting that they were right but none of them even turned around to the mouth of the cave. And then there was peace, the deep red turned to the familiar inky blackness they were so comfortable with and they retired for the night.

The next day started again as always but by evening the burning orange gave way to the crimson red that leaped all over the walls increasing the fear of the people inside who wondered what magical phenomenon this was. But this time one of the men decided he would do what no one else dared. He believed in his miracle, he believed there was a God and he decided to dare and see what was at the mouth of the cave. What caught his eyes were the leaping flames of a breath taking fire, so bright and graceful as it climbed through the air in its glorious shades of color. He turned back in excitement, he couldn’t withstand the bliss he felt of having seen the glimpse of divinity at the entrance of the cave. He tried to explain the phenomenon to the others, that it was a leaping flame at the entrance of the cave but no one was ready to hear him and no one really wanted to know the secret of the glowing flames.

That evening and even stranger event occurred. As the cave dwellers got used to the glowing red, they were now comfortable to see its dancing hues of the wall and that event too was no more than an occurrence from the position it held as a miracle some time ago. But this night it was even weirder. As they continued to look up to the wall in all its glowing redness, there suddenly appeared stark black forms that sprang around the wall. They were fast, agile and sure footed, they barely stayed in one place, they flew faster than anyone to spot them in a single place. They were real and they grew larger and shrunk slowly and disappeared into the redness. The cave dwellers looked on again at the wall with horror, wondering what was going on. They feared the worst that all hell broke loose to come and grab them and vanquish them all.

And once again the same man decided to take a second change and turn to the mouth of the cave. This time he turned to see something even more spectacular. There was a group of beautiful women, so beautiful and so richly dressed, so graceful and so magical, he breathlessly looked on to seeing them float around the glowing flames dancing with its burning arms as if in an enigmatic embrace. Their bodies glowed in yellow gold, their skin shimmered in the red glow of the light as then enjoyed the moment of love and beauty while they hopped around the flames is such splendor. And then the inky blackness of the night shrouded this beautiful view he just had a glimpse of. He was too excited the next morning and tried to explain to the others in the cave, about the fire and the women. They called him mad, they thought he was insane and they mocked at him to make him a recluse, disowning him for his thoughts and for this excitement over things that never were real, that never took place for what they saw were giant beings on the wall and what he tried to explain was the shadows of damsels dancing around a fire. He was beaten by all, to have even shared such a wild imagination for no one believed in any such occurrence.

He didn’t give up, for he sang out loud, he burst into poetry to describe the women he had set his eyes on. He sang about the red glow, about the fire and about the graceful women who threw stark shadows on the wall. He was proclaimed mad and in a few days he was beaten for spreading such wild thoughts to scare the people and shake the peace in which they lived. He was considered a misfit and unanimously elected to be stoned to death. As be breathed his last, he sang out loud, describing how a damsel danced by the flames, only to have her golden gown catch fire and set herself ablaze and be swallowed by the same fire that threw the red glow on the walls.

Many days later, the men continued to live on, staring at the same wall that shined bright yellow again. But the red glow had long gone, long disappeared for it seemed uncanny that it faded the very same time the man breathed his last. There was eerie silence in the cave, as the rest of them continued to be, alone in their silence, uncomfortable with their existence. And then it happened, a strong wind blew and raised the dust in the cave. The wind was strong and forced them to bend low and close their eyes. And as the dust 
settled, they slowly opened their eyes to look up to the wall... a small piece of a golden cloth, half burnt and faded, flew along the wall to disappear into the inner darkness of the cave... 

They looked up at the wall and then into the darkness in shock.. and all they could remember were his last words as he died singing away...

I am the fire that burns this candle
I am the glow that give the diamond its life
I am the soul that leave this body
I am the truth you killed with all your might.

I am your only hope to salvation
I am that which you do not wish to seek
I am the free bird who dared to turn
I am the light that now leaves this cave.

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Reflecting on the Allegory of the cave

The Allegory of the Cave, also commonly known as Myth of the Cave, Metaphor of the Cave, The Cave Analogy, Plato's Cave or the Parable of the Cave, is an allegory  used by the Greek philosopher Plato in his work The Republic to illustrate "our nature in its education and want of education". (514a) The allegory of the cave is written as a fictional dialogue between Plato's teacher Socrates  and Plato's brother Glaucon, at the beginning of Book VII in Benjamin Jowett's translation and in chapter IX in Robin Waterfield's translation(514a–520a).

Here's more on Plato's Allegory of the cave

The experience of Shivahood, the state of real bliss.

The inner search for the Lord in the environs that we live in is practically impossible to keep the mind in focus towards a single goal, especially when it is not shared by anyone around us.

To work and make money is a goal we can all talk about, to buy real estate and get married are topics every one is interested in, but to talk about a spiritual goal hardly has any takers for a discussion. Yet it is a fight at some point in everyone's mind to want to know what spiritualism is.

What is illusion, inner soul and the beauty of enlightenment? What do we mean when we say these words, what are we meant to experience? Going to a temple in the city and having a glimpse of the Lord is not going to get us the answer. How do we even try to remotely get to this experience?

The only answer that hits my mind to get a glimpse of this supernatural effect is a visit to Tungnath or Mount Kailasa or some such remote place. I am sure that other places can, in some form render the same result, but a difficult trek to Tungnath or Kailasa are sure hits. Why? Because when the mind decides to do this journey it has agreed that its going to be physically challenging, it does not promise a darshan in winter and therefore time of the year matters and by the time we even get a glimpse of the destination, the mind and the body have had enough but the only energy that rules is the emotion to achieve the pilgrimage.

Let’s start from the beginning, gathering information on any of these two journeys defines that the weather may not support the trip and there is room for a flop. Just viewing pictures gives a rough indication that these treks are long and pains taking and there is hardly any help in the way. The altitude gives a feeling of distance from comfort that it results in mental detachment from all materialism, all emotion, and all attachment. The very fact that the mind decided to do this trek means that the emotions and the soul are ready to have a glimpse of this superior power.

At the foothills, before we begin the actual journey, the heart is overwhelmed that we made it this far, the mind is exhausted and can’t really entertain thoughts anymore. The difficulty now is the trek. Bleak regions, strong winds, bring the raw forces of nature close to us, so close that the familiarity of civilized life is a distant memory. Here there is only one thought - the discovery and the experience of the unknown. What stands in front of us is a snow capped mountain, cold, formidable, silent and powerful. And the only pool of resources we have is the fast diminishing reserves of energy within us. Food is brought down to the basic minimum and water may be hard to find and what’s more - money cant buy us anything here. Credit cards are a piece of junk here; because the rules that work here are very different. This is the first realization of detachment. This is also the first realization of freedom. 

As we take each step, the body begins to tire but the beauty of the region is a treat to the eye. The freedom to be in a land so bleak, the achievement to have fulfilled the wish to be here to imbibe the beauty of this land is a great feeling indeed. We can simply feel free to experience the power of this earth. How do we understand this power? Scaling these heights or even attempting to do the parikrama is a tedious effort of time, physical energy that is being squeezed out of every bone in the body to move the foot to the next step. All we have is the sheer will power to achieve this goal or overcome this challenge. We can look at it either way. Tungnath certainly doesn’t give the impression of easy enlightenment, its a difficult up slope trek that makes you, breaks you, exhausts you even before you made it to half the mark and we still do not have any sight of the temple. Kailasa parvat on the other side gives you a distant glimpse of its enormity and tells you to go home but doesn’t let you come any closer. In either case there is a realm of curiosity that is teased, the need to discover is prolonged and desire to break loose from the shackles of our existence and be one with the forces of nature can be reasonably enormous. Here too there is a strong echo of the dualism of life; this journey gives us the dual experience of frustration and spiritual bliss at the same time.

Approaching Tungnath on a winter morning

Do we ever get to feel this power? When we are exhausted and look up to the great temple or the mountain peak itself, the mind is blank and there is a sense of achievement to have reached or completed the trek. The minds eye now opens up to the forbidding reality in front of us. The world is at our feet, civilization is a distant reality and all that there is now is the Mountain and me. The first glimpse up close brings no thoughts to the mind, no words to the mouth, no fears to the heart and no pain to the body. The result of feeling this power is the feeling of being small and weep, weep like a baby full of emotion, and just pour out this overwhelming feeling into a pool of tears that are probably the most beautiful pearls of enlightenment we could generate selflessly. Just weeping into a pool of overwhelming love and emotions rolling out towards the power of the unknown is the most strangely blissful moment we can hold on to. If we felt this emotion at the moment of death, I guess we would be blessed with immortality.

The whole trek becomes a selfless journey of love, a churn of the mind and the body as it works its way up the spiritual grind of churning out the self from within. This emotion that floats to the surface of oneself is described very beautifully in a verse written by Thirumular.

Lord stands as Ghee in milk

He is Mukti, Jnana and Nada
That in the three branches of knowledge resound [poetry, music and dance]
Thus they praise the Lord
Through time unending;
As the ghee within milk
The pure one within them stands
That light they seek not and love not [2115]

Just as ghee belongs to the essence of milk, it floats on the surface of the milk untouched and unmoved. It is pure and concentrated and yet it doesn’t dissolve into the depths of the milk itself. Similarly the emotion of joy and supreme bliss that is felt on getting the closest view and discovering the Lord at these sacred shrines is an extraction from the process of churning the body, mind and emotions to reveal that we possess it. Once its out it floats of the surface of the milk of our existence, of our conscious self it is there to be experienced in all its purity and when it is experienced, what results is a tear of the overwhelming emotion of love.

The Mansarovar of my mind, Kailasa of my forehead

The three eyed Lord, is a term that has often echoed in my head and left me intrigued and jolted over the presence of an invisible third eye that when open throws rays of bright light or fire that enlightens me but may destroy others!

What a thought it is to reverberate the ideas of Thirumular who immaculately describes that Lord Shiva and His consort, the graceful red hued Parvati actually reside over my forehead. What does that mean? When the book says that it is possible that the Lord makes his presence felt by taking seat atop my fore, does it reflect in a glow around me, such that a person who looks at me wants to take a second glance, such that there is purity shining through of a different kind that leaves people speechless.

Its this strange spot between my eyebrows that intrigues me the most. Strange because it is at my crown, in the highest zone of my anatomy that dictates respect, and that anything scribbled over there has symbolism, meaning and depth to its presence.

This forehead is a canvas of a different kind, for anything that is drawn on it has a meaning to be there. Lets take a few examples.

If I, being a woman, were to draw a design and color it, with small sequence hanging on to it, it would reflect my need for explicitly enhancing my beauty, fueling my ego and my vanity and inducing seduction to some degree to the opposite sex.

If I, being a man, were to paint three vertical lines to the center of my forehead, I would be designating myself to a school of thought following a single God and dictating the power of Viashnavism.

If I, being a man or woman [either unmarried or widowed] had to put 3 horizontal lines of ash across my forehead, I would be declaring my inclination to another school of thought, namely Shaivism. I would be at the same time displaying my detachment to life and my need to know the truth that is beyond my being.

If I, being a man or woman, had to put a red dot at the center of my fore, I would determine the power of the Goddess reflecting through my face to the world around me. I would define my faith in the mother goddess cult and my deep faith in her worship.

If I, being a man or a woman, didn't put anything on my forehead but the Lord inscribed strange marks on the lines of my skin, I would have crossed the line of known spiritualism and entered a zone that no one but I would know of and that would lead to my evolution into the next plane of spiritual enlightenment.

The deep lines on the skin draw a parallel with the deep crevasses that make up the character of Mount Kailasa, the three horizontal lines starkly stand out between the rock and the snow awakening the presence of a deeper truth we scarcely have a hint of. The deep cut on the forehead of the great mountain Kailasa possibly depicts in a natural way, the half opened frozen third eye of the Lord, that could widen and shine through, bathing the world with its divine rays. How magical is that world, that the mountain reflects in the silent waters of the Manasarovar lake that describes the equilibrium of my thoughts, and of my mind.

As the Lalitasahasranamam says, the Goddess Parvati is like the swan that swims in the silent waters of the Manasa lake deep within my head. Isn't the picturesque view of the Mansarovar lake with the Kailasa towering beyond a real depiction of the inner silent truth of the Lord and the Goddess residing over my forehead?

The snow laden mountain with its deep crevasses clearly shown appears like the forehead of my mind is smeared with sacred white ash that glows in the light of the sun that shines upon it. How true it is that the Lord resides at Kailasa, how true it is that the Lord has taken seat upon my forehead, how true it is that the frozen vertical eye of the great mountain represents the dormant energy that is awakening within me to shine as the source of light that enlightens me and blinds the rest of the world with its power.

The secrets of ancient Hindu spiritualism are far beyond our normal capacity to understand, but a glimpse of this truth in the imagination of one's own thoughts and ideas can be the most intoxicating state of permanent bliss. And our forehead is the silent screen that depicts the level of spiritualism we are at. What a concept!

Memoirs of a floating Vilva

Within the lap of these virgin mountains
Deep inside a cave in the Himalayan foothills
Resides here a sacred shrine
Of Lord Shiva Yogishwara

A great saint had once meditated here
In the depths of this silent Gufa
Now lit up with a few oil lamps
Now home to the Lord and a few rodents

I am an offering of love and devotion
I am an offering pure and sublime
I reside here close to this sacred Linga
Awaiting the moment of release

In the early morning hours this winter
The priest comes and beholds
This divine form of the Lord
Ready to be bathed in Holy water

The sacred sprinkles touch the Lord
These pure waters of the Ganges
Flow down the smooth stone of this Linga
Taking me with it in its silent waves.

I leave behind this sacred home
My last home before I journey down
This silent rivulet reaches on
To the great Ganges flowing outside this cave door

Sweet syllables proclaim this freedom
Divine verses lift my earthly veil
Divine fragrance is my boat
As I float down to the Ganges beyond

Bright light breaks the darkness
As the waters make their way out
The cold gushing waters free my soul
I am on my way to my heavenly abode

I have lived with this earthly shrine
I have meditated to this divine fire
I am now one with the supreme being
Complete, enlightened, blessed.

The mysterious red hued goddess

The characteristics of the real Parvati have been documented extensively in the Lalitasahasranamam.

Goddess in the red hued form
She is meditated upon as the red hued Goddess with a vermilion body, three eyed and sporting a crown of rubies with a crescent moon. She has a smiling face, splendid bust and is seated on a lotus with petal eyes. She is golden hued with a lotus flower in her hand. She holds a jewel cup brimming with mead in one hand, while the other twirls a lotus flower. She holds a noose depicting the power of love in one hand and the flashing ankusha of anger restraining the forces of evil in the other. She yields a sugarcane bow depicting the mind and 5 arrows that represent the tanmantras. The whole universe is bathed in her rosy splendor. Her forehead shines arched like the crescent moon and her eyebrows resemble archways leading to the abode of supreme beauty. her eyes move like fish in this stream of divine beauty flowing from her face. Her neck is adorned with the mangalsutra that the Lord Kameshwara fastened round her neck. She wears a garment of deep red round her hip which is adorned with a girdle having many jeweled bells. The beauty and smoothness of her thighs are known to Lord Kameshwara alone, as she is seated on his lap, the conqueror of all desire. She rests on a seat formed by five divinities and is inaccessible, she constitutes half of Lord Shiva's body, shining dark complexioned and she is full of divine fragrance.

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Subtle abstraction of the Goddess in sacred syllables of sound

The abstraction of the Goddess is defined as the power that is generated from the fire of pure consciousness. She represents the Panchadashakshari mantra, she is the form of the mula mantra. In her subtle form, she is invoked by a mesmerizing mesh of sacred syllables, stitched together into a garland of kutas[combination of letters]. The Kamaraja Kuta represents the region from her neck to her waist while the Shakti kuta represents the Goddess's form from below her waist. She is that energy that rises from the Brahma Granthi, through the Vishnu granthi crossing the Rudra granthi to reach the center of pure consciousness in the Sahasrara Chakra. She is the subtle force that destroys all anger, greed and doubt that rises within the human mind. She is the ever constant, unaffected by time, she is pure consciousness. She destoys the fear of change, the fear of death. She is the greatest tantra, the greatest mantra, the greatest yantra. She is the very form of the cosmic sound, Nada. She is that energy which constitutes the 50 sacred sound transforming into the gross reality of 50 great centers of worship. She is like the moonlight that gives joy to those who burn in the triple fires of misery - physical, mental and supernatural. She is like the swan that swims in the manasa lake in the mind of her devotees. She is the hamsa mantra that reverberates in every breath. She resides deep within the cave of our intelligence, she is the ruler of our prana, of our life force. She is the primal mystic sound that vibrates deep within us. She is pure sound energy, potent in every syllable of her mula mantra.

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The warrior Goddess who vanquishes all evil
The warrior Goddess is described most immaculately in the Lalitasahasranamam as the Goddess who takes position in the center of the rampart of fire constructed by jwalamalinika. She rejoices when Ganesha destroys the magical devices placed by the demon Bhandasura as obstacles to her victory. She creates the 10 incarnates of Vishnu out of her 10 finger nails, to slay the great demon in war. She burns down the armies of demons with the fire of the her missile Pashupata. She is like the axe that cuts through the jungle of samsara in which the jeeva is caught. She lives in a circle of fire, she is the power called maya and she is Mahakali, the divine mother who consumes everything as a part of time.  

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The Goddess who loves food offerings

She is the Goddess who protects sacred tradition. She is the female element of the kula path, the guardian who protects the sacred doctrine of the Kaulas. She enjoys the rhythmic dance of women, better known as Lasya. She rules the fifty great centers of power, divine places of worship. She loves offerings of payasam [milk foods], offerings of rice mixed with ghee. She adours offerings of rice cooked jaggery and offerings of honey. She is pleased with offerings of pulses with rice as well as saffron flavored rice

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The abstraction of Parvati remains a mystery, she appears to have celestial characteristics of bright red skin, she is the very expression of beauty, the essence of sound, a warrior Goddess who loves rice based offerings. She appears sensuous and terrific at the same time, a killer of evil and a child who indulges in milk food offerings and honey. She is the keeper of faith and a destroyer of evil and a yet she is as graceful a maiden in the arms of her consort - Lord Shiva.  

Ritual worship of Lord Shiva

Gupt Kashi, a small temple way up on the Himalayan foothills has this quaint little temple attributed to Lord Shiva Ardhanrishwara. The sculpture of the Lord and his consort is charming and the entire ambience plays into the tunes of folk music and is in line with the heavens. A dozen women roll on with the dholak and the folk songs that reverberate through the walls of this temple. The marijuana stoned sadhus at the entrance as against the household simple women singing inside, it was a strange view to see the rebellious world live in parallel with the conformist at the door step of the Lord.

What was really enchanting was a small Shiva linga not measuring more than both my palms put together, that sat right in front at the foot of Nandi who carried the divine couple on His back. What was so unique about this Linga? On the face of it, the linga was fantastically chiseled, made of stone and ravaged a little by time, yet it carried on its contours the sharp lines that pronounced every head that made up its central Lingam.

Yes, beautiful and elegantly carved out of stone and delivering a presence that either matched or overpowered the large idol of Ardhanarishwara Shiva, this linga was truly unique and divine to look at. Commonly known as a Chatura Mukha linga based on the canons of Indian art, this linga sports four heads so handsome in appearance with jatas rolling down on all sides. Seated on its square peetham, this Linga brought back the ancient verses penned down ages ago by Thirumular, one of the greatest Tamil poets known in ancient Indian history.

LINGAM'S NINE ASPECTS
Tantra 7, 1777               
"Shiva linga has 9 aspects
Brahma, Vishnu, Maheshwara, Rudra form the lower aspect
Shiva of the 5 faces, Bindu, Nada, Shakti and Shiva"
As Thirumular explains, the Shiva linga has 9 aspects to itself. The lower aspect that makes up the Chatura mukha linga comprises of Brahma, Vishnu, Rudra and Maheshwara represented by the four perfectly chiseled faces while the upper aspect is made up of Sadashiva [Shiva of the 5 faces], Shakti, Nada, Bindu and Shiva.

THE FORM, FORMLESS, FORM-FORMLESS ASPECTS OF SHIVA
Tantra 7, 1811

"Shakti, Shiva, Nada, Bindu are the formless aspect
Sadashiva is the form/formless, unmoving aspect
Brahma, Vishnu, Rudra, Maheshwara are the form aspects"
The Shiva linga is structurally comprised of the 9 aspects of the Great Lord, however  as the heart sinks into the very form of it, the realization that I, the human being, the matter that breaths here and now is a moving potent Shiva temple on my own. All these aspects of the Lord lie dormant within me to be awoken from this deep slumber called life.

SOUL IS SHIVA LINGA
Tantra 7, 1823
For the gracious Lord
The heart is the sanctum
The fleshy body is the temple vast
The mouth is the tower gate
to them that discern
Jeeva is shiva linga
The deceptiv senses are but the light that illumines.
To the gracious Lord I pray! My heart is the inner sanctum that is so pure and so fragile that it is housed within this body that makes up this temple I call myself. The mouth is the towering Gopuram, the Gateway that leads to this sacred sanctum and that which keeps me alive is the Jeeva, the essence of life and of Shivahood. I am the light, illuminated by my own senses that keep this darkness of ignorance away when I realize the potency of my very own presence here and now.

ADORE THE LORD AND BEHOLD HIM
Tantra 7, 1826
you can think of him
you can speak his truth
but rarely can you see his holy feet
Only they can see his holy feet
who adore him with flower and water.
I am a part of Him; He is in my mind always, here and now. He rules my soul, my heart and my mind, for my thoughts revolve around Him. I speak what i know, but I dont know enough because this truth intrigues me so. I am but a willing slave in his arms, ready to listen to every pearl of wisdom that comes rolling to me in this sea of events that form my life. But when will I be blessed to see his divine feet, to feel the pulse of his presence? I pray in this hope, every waking hour with flowers and water asking him to awaken me from the dense ignorance of which I am a helpless part.

CELESTIALS WORSHIP THE LORD WITH ARCHANA
Tantra7, 1827
Why is it that the lord has taken his seat
in the hearts of the celestial beings
who bare the consecrated water
and the garland of flowers
They humbly prostrate in worship offering
the lord 5 sweet dishes and 16 upachara rituals 
I try so hard, and yet he shows me no mercy, am I cursed to be born such? Why is every prayer of mine, every abhishekam and every japa that I so willingly sing in his name, falling short? And yet I see him choose the Heart of the celestials to reside. Because they so beautifully pray in all humility to Him with consecrated water,   garlands of beautiful perfumed flowers, and sweets that would please him.  To be blessed by him in return.

NANDI PLANTED HIS FEET ON ME AND IMPARTED GRACE
Tantra 7 verse 1818
This birth I took
these impurities I bear
He dispels off this maya cloud
You are rid of these
so saying this he places his feet over my head
and I gave up all my unworthy knowledge
I prostrated at his feet and prayed
And yet I tirelessly pray, knowing well that I shall win his grace someday when he places his divine feel over my head to pale the worthless knowledge from my mind.
He will fill me with divine knowledge, sacred ambrosia of a different kind to make changes in my current life, in this form, in this time and as I see these events unravel, I bow to Him with overwhelming emotion, true everlasting bliss that lasts beyond this state, beyond this life, beyond this being.

An encounter with Lord Shiva

Adi Shankaracharya had traversed most of the Indian sub continent and visited sacred shrines along the way performing rituals and reawakening sacred life into each shrine that had paled away with time.

He was now briskly heading towards the doors of the sacred shrine of Kashi Vishwanath, Varanasi, where he was stopped by an untouchable savage who dared to break his momentum. He purposefully ushered the man to move aside but the man stood in his place and asked him a few profound question...

"Do the Sun and the moon show bias when they shine on this earth. Do they shine any lesser in the home of an untouchable as much as they shine around a man of high intellect? 

Isn't a man as good as a 4 legged animal if he studies the Vedas and still doesn't understand anything of it? 

How blind can people be if they fight among each other and still consider Lord Brahma, Vishnu and Sadashiva 3 separate entities and not part of the same potent seed of spiritual energy?"

Shankara stopped, for these were not illiterate words that came out of the untouchable who stood smiling at him, they were the sacred sayings of the Lord himself. Shankara recognized the untouchable savage and broke into a dialog with him that were later penned down into 5 divine verses of wisdom called the Manishapanchakam. Those were precious moments of spiritual history that graced this world in that time and silently blessed the people who mindlessly walked on the same street, not realizing the miracle of the moment until it was long gone.

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Hrishikesh, sacred land locked in the lap of the Himalayan foothills and washed by the pure waters of the Ganges has its own story to say. One can find faith here in the old traditional ritualistic style - controlled and disciplined - or the more sort after Bhairava approach - wild and high spirited.

The Ganges here is pure, as it cuts through the rocky hills that pave the way for this beautiful river to glide through. We were pilgrims without purpose as we walked through the bustling streets looking up shops and new age mendicants as we stroll by. The winters were setting in, and a hot cup of chai anytime was most welcome. While we admired the shimmering night light across the Ganges, we noticed a white man turned sadhu who had left his home and family back in Germany to become a Sanyasi here. He spoke perfect Hindi, with the tune of the local dialect as he explained his journey through his life and how Hrishikesh was now his home. While on one end we found it courageous and amusing, we also suspected that he probably didn't get onto the right side of the spiritual road...

And then it happened... a strange man briskly walked by and disappear into the darkness even before I could prepare to take a picture of him. He was awesome to look at, half covered in rudraksha beads and the rest covered in saffron. He had a divine "smartness" about himself with a stern purposeful gaze, as he walked by silently but aggressive at the same time. Power oozed out of him as he stared at us with a magnetic gaze before he disappeared. He held a beautiful trishul in his hand, covered in beaded malas. The trishul itself was breath taking, looking divine as it faintly glowed in the night light. It was exquisitely carved with floral patterns along its sides rolling over its graceful bends, yet it looked deadly in its aura and sacred to the Shiva loving devotee.

Within minutes he was gone, he came in like a flash, graced this earth and looked entirely different from the other lesser mendicants on the street. He was strong, silent and defiant towards anyone who intended to get into small talk with him. He walked through the crowd like a flash of lightening as the darkness covered the space between him and me and I never saw him again.

His presence captured my mind, his power shook the air and his gait was graceful yet sure footed. I felt a weird excitement within me, something that sensed "What if he was Lord Shiva himself?"

Would I have run behind and chased him till as far as he went, would I just take a picture of him and admired his persona in silence or would I bow to him and ask him to accept me as his disciple. There definitely was no room for a profound dialogue, though I was certain if he obliged we would definitely get into a spiritual monologue, or maybe I would have just been happy to sit far away from him and watch him perform in all his splendor. Shivahood gleamed in his being, even if he aped the great God, he did such a sure job of it, it was completely overpowering.

And then I wonder...how times had changed... how different do people view the world at large now. How strange it would be considered to walk up behind the man and accept fate leaving every thing behind, because that moment defined the profound miracle of potent spiritualism. To leave the safer beaten track and accepting the lesser known way of life as my own. To treat the familiar world as passerby in this dense cloud of maya and consider the Potent Lord as my own. To completely detach from this world and its various demands and feel the freedom of non attachment as my own...

To finally see the Lord himself... wherever... and hold my little personal dialog of love, intrigue and mysticism as I swim in the adrenalin of divine science... Ah! What a completely different life it would be!

Dogs or Cats - What makes a good pet?

It was a very interesting conversation the commenced at lunch as Srinivas and Santhanam sat down to catch up on the day's updates. Apart from the worldly updates for the day, the topic slowly headed towards Pakshi Shastra and the pros and cons of keeping animals as pets. It started off as a mundane topic and took strange twists and turns to make any mind start to think.

In this amazing exchange of ideas a single thought percolated in both the minds. What kind of animals are best as pets. While both agreed that cats made good pets though they are not necessarily the most loved animals to most people in today's world, the idea of dogs for pets took a controversial turn. Santhanam had been meditating for long on this topic, watching closely at reality for clues to substantiate his theory and he was now quite assured that he was right. His assumptions had slowly begun to turn in to belief and as he poured out his findings he left Srinivas almost converting his belief to a fact.

This truly turns to be a very controversial topic to all dog lovers, but here were a few points though irrational to the logical head, might make an Indian mind rethink as we belong to the ancient system that believes such and we [Indians] would largely not dispute anything extraordinary though we would like to keep away from it as well.

Santhanam rolled out his thoughts:

Dogs :), though one of the most endearing creatures that make their emotions felt in minutes are not the best recommendations for animals to be bread within a home. Unlike cats that sense impending danger and can alert the inmates of a home, dogs on the other end do not give any such prior notice. Now, this changes our definition of keeping pets. Pets are not just a nice to have at home, or lovable and entertaining, they definitely have a job to do :), apparently!

This is ancient belief, that when there is a possible danger, or impending disaster to any of the inmates, cats behave strangely to indicate a possible mishap. Cats make a number of circles in front of the main door and do not wish to allow anyone who is a part of their pack to leave the home because they sense approaching trouble. They come with a superior sensibility and try to protect the family of which they feel they are a part even though they may not be as emotive and might appear rather selfish at first glance.

Dogs on the other hand behave differently. There have been many stories and myths that dogs can see spirits and ghosts of the night... well possibly they do and we don't see this behavioral change. Well where do we have the time for such small nuances in life that bring that additional punch! Dogs tend to howl or cry in the middle of the night, nearing the peak of midnight, the hour when all bhootas [ghosts] and pishachas [spirits] are alive and ruling the space. It is also the hour when bhaktas of the darker side awaken. This is their hour of awakening, this is their auspicious hour of living and worship. Dogs just don't sense ghosts and spirits, they attract them too. This is probably why they didn't make it to the most recommended pet list of our ancients.

This phenomenon may have also been the meaning of the stark representation of our Gods. While Goddess Durga has a tiger for a vahana, representing the emotions of life, agility, movement, energy and power, the aghora form of Shiva [Bhikshatana, Bhairava, Rudra and Kala Bhairava] always has a dog for a vahana, appear terrific and fierce [though dogs on the face of it do not appear to have any such quality]. Interestingly Kali Ma in her terrific form doesn't have a vahana, but in her sobered version has a tiger just like Durga. Could these representations mean more than just mythical vehicles?

Srinivas and Santhanam thought conclusively, cats definitely made more useful pets if we were in tune with their behavior. Dogs may make good pets if we would like to discount the idea that they possibly attract ghosts where ever they are at certain times of the night.

We can choose to ignore or accept the presence of spirits and ghosts or we can take up an unbiased attitude towards them. But this forces me to go back to a reference  that makes bhootas and pisachas look reasonably unfriendly:

Hanuman Chalisa: Bhoota pisacha nikat nahi ave, mahavir jab naam sunave.

Santhanam and Srinivas sat back thinking. While in the current world animals are endearing and entertaining to us as pets, in the ancient world the thought of keeping pets meant something entirely different. Something that went in the direction of protection from all impending trouble, keeping ghosts and spirits away from one's home and maintaining a clean and trouble free environment to ensure better evolution towards a possible spiritual growth. 

What a thought!

Disclaimer: This article is entirely based on analysis of traditional hand me downs spread by word of mouth and has not been validated by any reference from the Pakshi Shastra.

Kailasa, sacred abode of Lord Shiva

Kailasa, Home to the Lord
Paradice in bleak regions
Sacred earth that calls to worshippers
Shrouded in myth and mysticism
Snow clad and white
Echoing the presence of the 3rd eye on itself...

Kailasa promises high spiritual powers to everyone. Here in prithvi loka, in this period of Kaliyuga,  aglimpse of this peak and an opportunity to do the parikrama is a great blessing. This great mountain soars above its earthly landscape, covering the skies and the heavens above with its sheer presence.

This mass of a monolithic rock in granite holds crystals of snow that shine in brilliance as the sun casts its light on them. By night this nectar of bliss powers over into the landscape as the moon glows, draping its divine presence on this great mountain.

I sit here at its foot trying to light my inner fire of enlightenment, as the guide leads us to the closest point. "Do not go any further, for those who have, never came back". Catching my breath, climbing to the highest point possible, my eyes soak themselves in the beautiful view of this mountain of light, this mountain of truth, this mountain of power that plays with the clouds that try to scale its peak. And then I wonder...

This earth is divine, so pure, so blessed that I in my human presence can go no closer to this great shrine. This is my line of consciousness. Beyond this line lies the next realm of power and spiritual enlightenment.

Time, the invisible measure has laid the path to me. What lies beyond is a mysterious world that belongs to all the other beings, celestial beings. In the mysterious realm of Kailasa, dotted with passing cloud, a different world comes to light, that of magic, of consciousness, of bliss. In this mystical world where clouds play vehicle to great spiritual being descending on to this earth, the aura around Kailasa is heightened, by its power and intensity though what appears to the eye is still a snow clad bleak region. And yet it glows in its inner light, in the energy that surrounds it.

Celestial beings from other lokas come here to stay, to witness the presence of the Lord, to witness the primordial sound that echoes loud among these great peaks and yet these divine sounds fall dead on ears as the winds whistle by. All the celestial world worships the Lord here, glowing in their being and performing severe penance to seek his audience, shining from within themselves, and yet, I can see only the subtle glow of the moon.

Sacred ambrosia trickles through the air, sweet notes of music play in this space as gandharvas and hrishis residing here breath and meditate, pulling all their consciousness to this central point - the great mountain of Kailasa.

Such is the power, so invisible and yet so strong for eachdrop of consciousness adds this intensity to the elixir of life, a life that I fail to understand right now. The air is pure and not a drop of dust falls through, the earth is still and the moon shines through the ice like a million stars. The atmosphere is clear, potent with divine consciousness, coupled with the powerful light that glows around the mountain giving me this uncanny feeling that I am not alone in this bleak land.

The heavens open and in my mind, I step closer to the power center of this divine peak. Th skies open up and this divine glow falls through leading me to steps snow white paving the way into this divine mountaneous abode. And then in the midst of this blinding light that glows from the sun, moon and fire, home to the collective consciousness of the devas, from the glittering beauty of the Goddess shining in yellow gold I witness, the formless Lord, the brilliance of this consciousness that led me through into this mountain, into this palace of gold. I am now pure consciousness, I an no body no more. I do not exist anymore in the human state I thought I was, I am now a drop in this divine cosmic ocean of light.

I breath and look up, as this short lived bliss fades into the darkness of my mind, leaving me staring up to this peak to see a vertical line of white snow cut through its surface, a cold white crack in the rock that remains still, cold and distant, as if He closed his third eye forever.

The extravagant presence of Chaukhamba peak

The ride up north towards Kedarnath from Rudraprayag is a breath taking experience, though it is inter spaced with the overwhelming presence of human civilization cutting into mother nature's serenity. In these beautiful regions one can either observe the purity of this God gifted countryside or one can crib about the Lays chips and Coke that have made it to these remote tea stalls, or the dam constructed for the Hydro Electric power project that is a sore spot over the gorgeous Alaknanda river.

As we ascend into the mountains, the terrain gets tougher revealing the undulating landscape as we scale mountain sides as well as touch down towards the shores of the river Mandakini. There is prosperity to be found every where. The hills are green with life, oozing with clear water springs that just wash the roads as they flow down to the river. The river is crystal clear racing through bed rock that are eroded and white while the gigantic hills tower around us on both sides making us appear like dots in this panoramic landscape.

With the wind against us as the car swerved along the precipice, we got sudden glimpses of the Chaukhamba peaks, one of the most extra ordinary, in the mountain range that rose majestically in front of us. At first, Chaukhamba can really make anyone's heart stop a beat, skip a breath and leave us gaping at it as if we had the glimpse of Lord Shiva himself! And then the desire to want to keep looking at this peak covers the soul so strong that the eyes hungrily search the landscape to have another glimpse as the car turns into a bend in the mountains.

Chaukhamba, characterized by its majestic presence is an incredible piece of art that nature has presented to us in this beautiful landscape, its a picturesque treat to the eye. Its not just a snow capped peak, for it drives more emotion and adrenaline in my mind than the peak of Kedar which is not far behind in its beauty. Chaukhamba, in its form and its aura echos the presence of Lord Shiva in itself. One aspect of this peak is that its the only peak that towers over the center of all the Himalayan foot hills that converge in front of it paving the way for Mandakini to flow through. The other aspect is its sheer size and presence, which makes it so beautiful and serious that it cannot really be ignored in the landscape as just another peak. This peak is permanently snow capped, always bearing the halo of a cloud that ambitiously tries to scale it and so awe inspiring that it challenges anyone to try climbing its formidable rocky slopes. 

And yet there is something more about this peak that makes me want to bow to it in all humility because it is not just all this, it is really Lord Shiva himself. Chaukhamba appears like a trishul at first glimpse. The staggering imagery of the trishul rises, making its slopes feel sharp and dangerously steep. It is overwhelming to feel like a dot in this picturesque landscape where the Lord's presence is felt by the glow of the sunlight on the over powering snow capped peak that echoes the form of the symbolic trishul on itself. At this point, the mind doesnt ask questions, the heart simply melts thanking the Lord for revealing his secretive form somewhere and somehow in this blessed land.

And then it gets clearer. The Lord himself appears in the mind's eye as I close my eyes and meditate on this range. Chaukhamba, as the name suggests is the four headed peak. It echoes an uncanny resemblance with Chatura Mukha linga form of Lord Shiva. In this extra ordinary landscape, every foothill leads the way to this great shrine, this natural shrine that is larger than life, larger than any temple constructed by man, larger that anything imagined yet. This is the overpowering presence of Lord Shiva, in his aniconic form always present, always alive, always shining and waiting to be recognized. How wonderful and fulfilling this experience is, how completely fruitful, to wish and see the presence of the Lord, not just in man made temples, but everywhere, in everything, in every piece of natural art that this earth has presented us.

O Chaukhamba, 
I bow to this great mountain
That makes my heart beat faster
That makes me want to imbibe it
That makes me prostrate in all humility
That makes me break down into tears
That blesses me and this landscape
With its magnificent beauty
Proclaiming the silent presence
The symbol of Lord Shiva himself
So silently embedded in its being.

Photo courtesy: Picasa > Agasthya

Feminine potency at the shrine of Kalimath

Buried deep within the mountains, cut away from all the noise and secluded in this quaint valley laced by the river Mandakini is the sacred and potent shrine of the Goddess.

What initially catches the eye is a rather modern shrine for Kali Ma in which one would expect to find the fiery red eyed Goddess enraged and ready to kill the savage demons and destroy all evil. It is pleasantly surprising to note that this [as far as I know] is probably the only shrine that displays an enormous Kali yantra that has been placed on the ground in the very same spot where demonic blood once fell as the Goddess massacred evil.

Red and yellow flags still flutter in the air to celebrate the victory of the Goddess who once graced this earth. And then they say, she vanished, into the very same earth where she killed him. 

This Kali Ma shrine is just the trailer to what actually lies behind these walls. A local priest ushered us to follow him to a world that hid silently behind the shops that sold offerings to Goddess kali. What lay ahead was not just the most potent shrines attributed to the Goddess's many forms but the ambiance that left us feeling a deep sense of peace and happiness. A sense of discovery enveloped us as we headed towards the inner sanctum.

Old rocky stone had been meticulously put together to shelter great power on this earth. In the silence of the morning with hardly any crowd at this temple, there seems to be enough life within this temple premises. It is energy of a different kind that stems from the soil, glows in the sun and exhibits power that shines through the vermilion. It was as picturesque as it could be, with the Mandakini flowing on one side, a small village precariously balancing itself along the sharp ridge and the sun penetrating through the hills, Kalimath has its own unique beauty.

This would have been a great seat of worship and learning in the ancient days. It just didnt echo the presence of a Shakti sthal here, but also a great seat of Tantricism and occult sciences not to miss the strong presence of the Goddess who also rendered it a Siddha Peeth.

In all its ancient charm, still untouched by modern renovation, stands the roofless Nandi shrine with small Shiva lingas excavated and placed around it. Ganesha adorns the entrance of the Saraswati temple, not by an iconographic measure but more as being unearthed and placed there. Shiva takes on center stage in the next temple with Parvati seated on his lap while a Linga is enshrined in a smaller temple closer to the river. The most eye catching aspect of this temple is the main shrine attributed to Goddess Lakshmi who resides deep within the Garbha griha with the matrikas on vigil outside her sanctum. Goddess Lakshmi is worshiped here in various "swarups" each divine version of her face is inscribed on the sacred rock and is silver plated. Opposite her sacred shrine is the yagnakund whose flames never die.

When the color of vermilion breathes life into the richness of the divine complexion of the Goddess, when her grace and beauty envelopes the air inside this chamber, when the smell of fire and sacred incense covers our soul, awaken to the world of the Mother, to her presence echoing in these rocks. This is life, this is bliss, this is beauty and this is power. 

***

Kalimath is a small town enroute to Kedarnath and 14 kms from Guptkashi.
Photo courtesy: Agastya, Picasa

Rudraprayag: Divine experience of Lord Rudra Shiva

 Om Na Ma Shi Va Ya...

These sacred words reverberated in tune with the waves of the river Mandakini dashing forward to meet the volumes of water gushing into it from the Alaknanda. The rivers met, raising curtains of foam and walls of water sprays across the landscape as the crystal clear streams merged into each other, in union, into a song that echoed the raw presence of the Great Lord Rudra. A million suns glowed, flames in bright hue formed a halo round His head as He shined in gold. The great Lord Rudra Shiva appeared into this realm of life, pleased to feel the rhythm of these sacred syllables in the soft but deep voice of a devotee in meditation.

There was silence and calm as the waves lashed the rocks, echoing in the background and Narada Muni awakened his mind's eye in his meditative state and witnessed this miracle. It had taken many years to call on Lord Rudra, to please him with his devotion and to ask for his wish - a wish for a perfect voice for a perfect soul. It was granted and sacred eternal music was born on earth in this realm, in the heavens, in the deva lokas and in all the celestial worlds. Music was born and the art to take it to perfection was initiated. The great Lord Rudra shook his damaru; the cosmic sound enveloped the universe drowning the sounds of the rivers into itself. The cosmic sound had taken birth in this world, music was now born.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Kali yuga...

It's a cold wintry morning and I stand here speechless at the fork of the confluence of these gushing rivers. The brilliant rays of the sun coupled with the constant sound of crashing waves precipitates these sweet thoughts in my mind, as I stand and watch this confluence of the flowing waters at Rudraprayag.

My mind knows no mantras for it stubbornly remains blank and overwhelmed over this amazing beauty. This view is one of a kind, as I stand at the fork and watch the two rivers merge in front of me. But there is a difference. There is the feeble sound of Om Na Ma Shi Va Ya barely making its way out of my throat as I try to imbibe this spectacle. I am at unrest and I am still trying to gather myself to experience this world and wondering at the same time what would be the best way to capture it, feel it, in the limited time that I am here. I wonder how I could change my reality, to drop everything and come and stay here because I can feel something very strong in the air, here at Rudraprayag. And I try feebly to grasp this moment, feeling inadequate at the same time that as the supreme energies call, my state is so unprepared to imbibe it.  

The air is chill and yet the sun shines warm, the waters rumble and yet there is rhythm to be felt. The stones erode and yet they shine so smooth and pure. The waters are clear and yet there is color in their depth. He is fierce and yet there is warmth in His formlessness.  

I remembered the sacred texts again... they ran...Rudra, the aghora swarupa of Lord Shiva, the one who is fierce, red eyed, with blazing flames around his flowing locks, sporting a snake for a yagnopavita, decked in gold, holding a skull cap for his bowl, a damaru that he plays and a deadly trishul that he aims head downwards ready to strike through any evil. And then I looked on at the crashing waves in front of me...

No, Rudra Shiva was not all that... not scary... not aghora... not ughra

The form of Rudra echoes every where, in the waters, in the stones, in the white lines that form in the waves of the two rivers flowing furiously by. This heaven is dazzled by the sheen of these clear waters that make up the robes of the Great Lord Rudra and I stare on into the volumes of water that rush away through the hillsides. The thunderous sound of these waters constantly echo the cosmic sound, the primordial sound created by His damaru. White stones are scattered around the riverbed as the rivers run low this winter, each polished stone reminds me of the kabala that the Great Lord Rudra holds in his hand, as he walks through the shamshan. The sun shines through these waves and feels like a million suns shine at me proclaiming His brilliant presence. The rivers flow on as the waves form a trident the tip of which aims right at me, where I stand. Am I the ignorant, egoistic, evil one?

There is raw power and energy in this water as it gushes by almost making me feel the power of His presence enveloping this sacred river bank. But why is my mind closed? Why am I trying to look with my eyes and not feel with my heart?

He is the power, unthinkable, unimaginable, unconquerable, raw wild natural power that is beyond my capacity to understand. He is the all pervading, that which surrounds my humble self in this present. He shines in gold like a million suns, he walks these waters as he steps on each white kabala and he dances to the tune of the cosmic sound he plays with his damaru, the same tune that lies hidden in the flowing waters going by. The form of Rudra Shiva pulsates in this sacred spot, everything echoes his presence. How then am I not able to still see Him?

Related topics:

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KAraikkAl AmmaiyAr - a woman among the 63 Nayanmars  

Significance of the Panchamukha Linga

Sri Rudram - Divine Verses to Lord Rudra

Fated Pradosham at the Sacred Shrine of Ukhimath

In the depth of her splendor
That covers my soul
Do I see the power of Mahakala
Within her sacred womb.
The heavens reveal
In true beauty and reverence
Lord Shiva and his graceful consort
And behold the supreme presence
Of the Shrine of Kedar.

With every step that progressed towards the shrine door, my heart beat faster. I couldn't cope with this excitement but I enjoyed every pleasurable moment of it. It was like a child jumps up in sublime enjoyment when it discovers treasure. Every bit of new vision sent my heart pounding.

This feeling awakens in me a child like happiness because I feel I belong here, I am a part of this pantheon, and I am present here and now in full consciousness at this magnificent sabha, which in my mind is real heaven. My mind and soul now have blended into the subtle reality of this divine presence within this symbolic world.

The shrine chamber of Ukhimath temple is covered in divinity. Lord Mahakala sports his manly mustache etched beautifully over silver with an elegant snake hood covered in flowers above him. The sacred shrine of Kedar sits closely behind with miniature parasols of silver carefully covering its shrine. How joyous was this moment to behold the stark male attire of the Great Lord Mahakala at the central shrine and the small and elegant Kedar shrine in silver, all within the same room. Behind these sacred symbols of divinity, stood the glaring sculpture of Kala Bhairava on the wall with his big silver laden eyes staring straight at me. The Kalabhairava here is very similar in flavor to that at Pashupatinath, Nepal.

The presence of Kala Bhairava and Mahakala as the primary shrines at this temple of Ukhimath, echoed the ancient tantrik rituals of the night. This was a great seat of tantrik practice, a little different from Tungnath but strangely similar also. The depths of Ukhimath temple's ambiance began to reveal itself to me. In the warmth of her peaceful garbha griha was housed the history of a serious and intriguing mystic past. 

With her inner shrine explicitly presenting more forms of Shiva than one, Mahakala's gentle look took me all the way back to Ujjain. Mahakala is probably the only form of Lord Shiva who sports a mustache. As I advanced to the adjoining mandapa, there were exquisite sculptures of Shiva and Parvati adorning this little room. The Shiva Parvati idols in copper have their own charm and Nandi stands in bronze at the center of this ardha mandapa.

Darkness had set in, the shrine doors had previously been closed in the early hours of the evening. We patiently waited for the priest to finish his endless conversation with another devotee, and open the sanctum to give us a better view. Little did he know that I had a plan to sit there longer than he thought. This was the most profound moment of the evening. Pradosham hour was coming to an end and the Lord Mahakala made sure we were there for it. He gave us darshan, as the priest came to open the doors to the shrine.

The grandeur of the inner chamber was alive and brimming as I sat at the door step quickly taking out my wicks and lamps. The ghee was stone cold and digging into its depths was a task. We lit two diyas and with all humbleness we presented Vilvam leaves that we had brought all the way from Chennai as a small gift from us. We stayed there for some time and the exclusivity of the moment made us feel even more special. For an active temple like this one, during the moment of pradosham at the Lord's feet with only a priest with us who didn't push us out because it was getting late, this was completely enjoyable.

What a difference this was from the rest of the temples across India that we had visited so far. The silence of this temple echoed my voice as I sang out the mantras. I felt blessed as my voice reverberated within the grand walls of this Sabha. All the heavens were there to listen to these prayers as the priest joined in the singing too. Rudram, rumbled through the walls as sacred vilva fell over the shrines. The Lord of Kedar had received our gift. I could have danced around the courtyard!! We took another 15 minutes well past closing time. The priest favored us saying it was God's will that we should visit and light ghee lamps. Our lamps were placed inside the inner shrine, to shine through the night as I bowed to the lord in all thankfulness.

This experience was strangely one of a kind in these times. There was no noise, there was no corruption but goodwill, there was no pushing around but patience, there was no haste but worship, there was no argument but respect for a devotee's time with the Lord. And all of heaven was open, listening to my heart sing out. What else could I have asked for!

Photo source: Unknown from the internet

Ukhimath Temple - A Silent Bride in the Moonlight.

Paulo Coelho had once said, if you want something the whole universe conspires to get it for you. Sure enough! It was pretty much the same story with us.

Tungnath was the highlight of the day and the related ecstasy didn't allow us to descend at the appropriate hour. Winter in the mountains is a little different. The world is awake as long as there is daylight and once the foothills plunge into darkness there is no life, no movement, no activity.

The descent down Tungnath was even tougher in the slippery ice and we paid for it with a precious hour of daylight. Exhausted and a little disappointed that this great moment had come to an end we were in a partial mind to go to Ukhimath. As the car swerved along the rough hillside road with occasional thrills of hanging off the cliff edge into the gaping darkness of the valley below the driver decided to drive up to Ukhimath temple to check if it was still open.

The biting cold, the exhaustion and the drunken bliss of Tungnath, made Ukhimath that much more inaccessible in the night within our minds. And yet, as the eyes strained to keep open, we hazily saw the night lights of Guptkashi on the opposite hill make dots of the letter OM floating in the dense darkness of the surrounding forests. It was two nights away from Poornima, and the moonlight was slowly beginning to awaken the silent beauty of the night among the hills. Dotted lights skirted by, and the road was bumpy as ever with sharp turns as it went winding along the hill side. The landscape looked like the sky had opened itself straight to us merging with the star studded hillsides appearing like a completely enveloping universe as we floated through it, it was magical. We drove up to a halt to see the bright light of Ukhimath shine over its finial.

Ukhimath was a different world. Living, breathing with energy and pulsating within its nest over the hillside. Silence and darkness had descended over its ambiance. This Pradosham day was blessed and I don't know how to explain it. It was not about visiting a temple, it was not about making it on time, it was not about lighting a lamp to the great Lord Mahakala... it was the melting exhaustion, the extended beauty of the ancient world and an even higher bliss when I beheld this quaint temple clothed in color so unique that it appeared like a coy bride in this star studded night. Words cannot explain the excitement, through my confusion of wanting to visit this temple in daylight to observe it closely.

Ukhimath temple courtyard is a place I would like to be in forever. We had barely made it to the temple, as we asked our way around to the courtyard to be faced with colorful glitter of this small temple so coy and shrouded in subtle blended light. 

Ukhimath awakened my fantasies about the past. The style of this courtyard, the presence of wood and stone instead of cement, the walls that just hid the surrounding hills from us, and the dancing maidens on the walls who entertained the heavenly celestial world dotting the faceted walls of the temple, plunged my imagination into its finest state. To amalgamate one self into the real, where imagination takes over the present, the aura of the place envelops me and I forget that I belong to NOW [defined by time and change of this era] is a relishing experience. Ukhimath temple appears like a maiden resplendent in rich garish colors, decked in electric jewelry, diamond studded and glowing, draped in bright colors, subtly teasing in the dimly lit night.

This temple lies coy in the shadows of her courtyard like a graceful maiden waiting to be wedded, revealing bits of her color as we strangers walk around discovering every wall that protects her. Gasping for breath, filling my hungry eyes with this splendor, I bathed myself in her resonant beauty as I made my way into her inner shrine.

How dream like is this moment!

To think that I had previously scanned the landscape as the driver pointed out the roof of Ukhimath temple that teased my eyes with her presence on the opposite hill the previous day, I was standing here and now waiting for the celestial world to welcome me into her world. My heart had been excited to visit and though Tungnath took over my consciousness for the entire day, Ukhimath presented herself in the dim light of the moonlit night, most gracefully.

Am I blessed to be here to witness her presence in full beauty and elegance and bathe myself in her ambience. There is silence, there is warmth and yet, as the chilling winds whistle through her courtyard there is subtle presence of life brimming within her walls, awakening my soul and challenging my emotions that lie dormant with me.

To be continued...

Sacred hour of Pradosham at Tungnath

To visit Tungnath in the bleak winter is an opportunity, to make it to the temple on Pradosham day is a bonus. It was that blessed day in our lives that the weather proved to be friendly and the snow at Tungnath had not entirely set in.

The climb to Tungnath proved to be extremely energy sapping, 3500 feet up slope in 3 kms was a lot more tougher than the endless walk to Tirupati. This added to the sub zero temperatures atop the Himalayan foothills where the water didnt flow to the end of its fall but froze half way. This land, these hills, which holds Ukhimath on one peak, Guptkashi on another, Kalimath on a third and Tungnath on the fourth, not to mention Kedarnath which was not in our radar yet... are breath-taking and beautiful.

We had finally managed to trek all the way up. The experience left us speechless, confused and energized as it seemed more like a physical achievement than a spiritual haven to visit. The real Tungnath fills the mind with excitement at the first sight of the flag atop its finial. Gasping for breath and not even having scaled 3/4ths of the distance left us tired with a hollow in the pit of our stomachs but at the same time the mind and the eyes were filled with the most beautiful panoramic view of the Himalayan peaks. Such extravaganza, such virgin beauty lay sprawling all around us as we attempted the next few feet still gasping for breath.

Dry, cold winds sing in the ears, towering peaks appear stark and naked clothed in snow and as we necked up with the range, the temple on this formidable peak looked unreachable as probably the highest ever point. The warmth of the sun was welcome, the feeble heat burned us as we made it up to this quaint little settlement precariously perched on the hilltop.

Why would a group of people in ancient times, want to brave these bleak temperatures and climb all the way up here to build this magnificient temple with the exact rules of architecture and iconography as those found in Bengal or even Madhurai for that matter. Why would there be a seat of serious learning secluded so high up on a mountain almost inaccessible to all in these bleak winters to not just preserve a tradition of deep thinking but to make it a way of life at sub zero temperatures.

I stood here high up on this mountain, having being robbed off my belongings, my identity and having no connection what so ever with the known world. I was lost, in this silent world with no phone, no internet, no money and no identity. I was myself, an individual here and now, in the present, in this beautiful moment that appeared so magical. I was an entity, with no name, no history, no background, no connection and no possession. I was the one, truly detached from all familiarity staring up at this half ruined temple wondering about this blissful relationship I was at this moment sharing with Lord Shiva, whose presence echoed in almost all the stones that made this ancient temple.

I am part of this ancient rule, I am an entity in this ancient world, I am the mantra that flows out loud as I place Vilva leaves gently on this Sahasraha Linga that sits firm at the temple door. I am the lamp I light, I am the sweetness in this moment, I am the only reality that brings this small gift of ghee lamps and vilva to the Lord atop this sacred mountain this bleak winter morning.

The sun slowly starts to descend, the cold winds take over as my mind finds its way back to the steep path way that brought me up here. My heart flows with love for this land, for these mountains and for the purity in this air. There is no person, there is no aim, there is no thought... there is just pure love that flows this evening at this sacred hour at the great temple of Tungnath.

To be continued...

Photo courtesy: unknown from google images