Splash….!!! The day started off in a
horrific note when mom poured water on me to wake me up. I was in a ‘fantastic
dream’ then. However, it ended up without a climax like a cricket match
being abandoned and declared as a ‘no result’ due to rain. (Guessing
the theme of my dream is left open)
I remembered mom had already
informed me yesterday, “We are going to a temple at Sirkazhi tomorrow. You
may have to wake up early. So, better off to bed now.” Damn, does ‘early’
mean a nap – like sleep? It felt like I had slept before some minutes. I slowly
got up with groans and grumbles, only to find that the time was 6:00. I could
have easily escaped this hell had I confidently opposed mom in their plan of
taking me with them. But, the thought of my sufferings due to ignorance flashed
through my rooftop. Even a small hiccup would be treated as the aftermath of my
refusal to budge to the temple.
But mahn, it was ‘tooooo’ early, actually looking like dusk
to me. My day usually starts at 9:45 AM when mom would wake me up, detailing
the dishes for brunch and lunch (!!), after which she would take leave to
office.
It was bus travel as usual. Luckily,
this six – footer got a convenient seat. In the course of travel, I asked mom
why mom and dad always had this liking to go to temples all around Tamil Nadu,
sometimes even to AP (Tirupati beckons everyone) Mom always had some supportive points to
reinstate her ‘relief through firm belief’ philosophy. She said, “Why
do we have ortho specialist, ophthalmologist, dentist, surgeon, et al? Why
can’t we have a single doc for everything? That’s because each of them is
specialized in a particular field. Likewise, each temple and God has some
powers vested. So, don’t complain.”
I didn’t like this comparison of
docs with temples and wanted to counter it immediately. Since it was a
statement from the ‘top brass’ of our family, I controlled myself. This was my
thought: “Do we go to doctors when we are well and good? Only if we are
struck with some illness, we consult those people. Taking medications
unnecessarily when we’re fine would bring side effects. Similarly, when life is
going on smooth, why do you go to temples?”
After reaching the temple, we learnt
that it was Friday coupled with Ashtami (the eighth day after full
moon/new moon), which made the temple even more special and auspicious. But, my
mind was getting troubled as to which day is to be regarded as good and which
not. I have always suffered because of this right from my school days. There
are many intricate classifications of these thithis. Any kind of fee
must not be paid on pradhamai, ashtami and navami. (There
is this 15 – day cycle between Amavasai and Pournami, starting
from Pradhamai). Further, there is a ’to – do’ list detailing which kind
of things are to be done when. Explaining them is beyond the scope of this
article. (Recollection of the matriculation subject books’ ‘Foreword’ :P)
Still there is a bit of storm within me on why we celebrate Gokulashtami
as Lord Krishna’s ‘day of incarnation’ and Shri Rama Navami as Lord Rama’s
birthday. (On these days, the above – mentioned restrictions are relaxed)
Let’s not go deep into this as my
college days are about to start and I am deeply concerned about my well –
being. So, full stop to the criticisms on these firm beliefs. I have studied
here and there that there are specific scientific reasons behind each and everything
stated in scriptures. The problem here is that those reasons are not detailed
anywhere. (OK. So, please understand. I am not an atheist or so – called ‘rationalist’.
I like temples at least for the prasadhams.)
As it is, we worshipped with deep
religious fervor. The visit to the shrines of Lord Shiva and Lord Vishnu was
over soon after. Since the temple was famous for Lord Bhairava in particular,
we performed an archanai over there. When I was thinking, “This seems
too easy. So, I would have enough time to play cricket in the afternoon, as
usual”, mom asked dad, “Is that it?” Dad replied, “No. There’s
the ‘Ashta Bhairava’ shrine”. Both of them stared cogently at me to have my
nod. Though I wasn’t interested, I thought, “Dude, just one more. Why don’t
you satisfy mom and dad, bloke?” (Even if I had expressed my disinterest
in going there, they would’ve gone on their plan)
But, my intuition stroked an alert
message when I noticed the shrine from a distance. It was more like a central
jail during visiting hours. The place was fully sealed on all sides with only a
small gate serving for both entrance and exit. There was already twice the
amount of people that it could accommodate. In a nutshell, it was ‘crowded and
congested’. (Heard somebody saying, “Then, why do you elaborate this much,
stupid?” How much should I have suffered then while reading Chetan Bhagat’s
novels?)
I went in with mom and dad. Actually,
I was sort of pushed into some awkward place, which in fair terms, was not
worth standing. I was sweating profusely in the next 300 seconds but not before
I had noticed the atmosphere. There were these ‘spiritual’ people who would
always shout hymns from the core of their vocal cord, another kind who would be
supervising the chaotic crowd in an even more unorthodox manner, imagining
themselves to be ‘strict officers’. Then, the place also comprised of crying
babies, who couldn’t tolerate the heat, busy apprentices roaming here and there
to help the main priests in some way. Not to forget the ‘busy’ personalities
who would be yelling through mobiles at the peak of their voice only at public
places. (These are standards of how famous a temple is. The number of
persons in each of the groups decides the reach of a temple. I am an expert in
accrediting temples this way as I had visited temples for my entire life even
before I was 16.)
It was abishekam time and the
time was already fifteen minutes past 12 by then. But, mom would not budge
without performing an archanai whatsoever, thanks to the scriptures
which taught her so. I, with the half – hearted consent of mom, came out of the
shrine along with dad, who, in the pretext of accompanying me, got off too. (He
told me later that he had already been there.) Observing people and nature
(or, in crude terms, being idle) has been my passion and dream and I
continued it here also. (There was no other way, as my mobile battery had
already drained, courtesy ‘Subway Surfers’ and ARR)
There was the ‘kind’ man selling
tender coconuts, who gave us a free one after emptying dad’s pocket, except for
bus charges to reach home; there were priests chatting and sometimes abusing
some third person about the borrowed money; there were beggars who had their ‘dream’
of satisfying their hunger during afternoon. Dad couldn’t wait; he went back to
the shrine to see if the procedures were completed. When the man who was in – charge of selling oil
and camphor started eating idlies with ‘getti’ chutney, I had this
tingle. It felt terrible to have no shop other than that for tender coconuts to
even feed me with water.
I thought of those beggars sitting
at a corner. If a person like me, who am guaranteed of a meal, though not in
time, could not give them something, then who would? Surely, they didn’t have
sufficient money even for a tender coconut. I had some coins in the wallet,
which I immediately gave them. One of them asked me to bow and kissed me in the
forehead with the words, “God bless you, son. May you live long!!” It
was a treat to watch as they divided the sum among them. One man, who was
evidently the ‘Big Brother’, collected that money and went to a nearby mess to
buy something for them. I wondered if he would return. Sure did he come back
soon after and it was again a surprise to witness the manner in which they ate.
There were no bustles among them to get more. I recollected my school days when
we would quarrel and abuse each other to get a delicacy from someone. This
would go to the extent of even scolding the guy who had brought the lunch we
yearned for.
I wondered why, when there were too
many people in need of money and food, we always did these rituals and gave
those comparatively wealthy priests more and more money? Had every person
coming to a temple tithed the money that was given to these holy people for
these beggars, the death count due to inability to get food would have come
down. Just then, mom and dad returned along with another man. Dad introduced me
to him and told me that he was also from Cuddalore. He told me that I was a
gifted son because both mom and dad had this tendency of helping illiterate
people with the banking procedures. I was embarrassed because I had the habit
of always mocking them as ‘insane and stupid’ because of their hospitable
attitude towards strangers.
