Author's Note: My writings will be eclectic. This one touches on the topic of religion and idols.
About the entry: Thought about on an hour-long bus-ride from the NGO hospital that I volunteered in to Vadodara, India. Year: 2005.
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“Buy these lovely flowers,” shouts a woman next to me. “No! Buy these beautiful garlands,” screams another woman sitting across from her. They are vying for the attention of the many pilgrims shuttling back and forth from the local temple up on the hill. Inside the temple itself are many signs that blatantly ask for one’s donations: Feed God this item and you will have success in your life; feed him this other item and you will have financial gains. And to make matters worse, as one enters the inner sanctum of the temple, their heart flutters when it sees the ornate, expensive decorations that adorn both the architecture and the idols. Their jaws open in awe as they are taken away by rich beauty and they come out “enlightened.” Funny that the enlightenment didn’t come from the actual reason why one made the trip to the temple—God.
Temples in India have turned into such commercial institutions that oftentimes the whole meaning of going to a temple is driven by buying the best of the flowers, the costliest prasad, and the prettiest of souvenirs. The whole message of going to a temple to be one with God is so easily lost amidst this wrongly situated bazaar.
However, one wonders whether this interconnectedness is more a result of attending a prettier building for services rather than an unselfish manifestation of one’s religious fervor. After all, is it really necessary in having showy, ornate decorations as part of one’s place of worship? Isn’t the opposite more rational—for gorgeously carved walls and gilded idols would in fact distract one from one’s religious mediation? Simplicity of area evokes rawness of one’s emotions and therefore a singleness of purpose.
The issue came upon me when I undertook a road trip between two Indian cities. Besides encountering quaint instances of farming life, expected potholes, and erratic driving, I also noticed quiet shrines staking their own claim in the diversity that is India. These shrines popped up every 15 minutes or so, either under a tree or next to a haystack, and would have been fairly indistinguishable from a nearby rock had it not been for the mass garlands and stubs of incense sticks that decorated their surroundings. Simple, naked worship in the strictest sense is what comes to one’s mind when such shrines are viewed. It also gets one thinking that honestly, people do not need the pomp and glamor to find religion—all they need and have ever needed is faith. So why spoil the temple-going experience by making it a churning business outfit? Why try to lure people to come to the temple created by your family’s patronage through precious artwork and gold idols? The worshipers will come if they believe—trying to buy their belief is undermining the whole concept of religion itself.
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6 comments:
nicely said. i agree with you completely--
Dude, you should absolutely watch Bill Maher's Religulous. It covers similar frustrations.
Gandhi vents about similar things in his visit to Kashi Vishvanaat temple in Varanasi. Read "My Experiments with Truth" for more on that.
Well said. Temples in many places in India have lost that natural allure. The belief has been misplaced somewhere beneath stacks of rupees.
@Diwant, Isha isn't a dude mate. :), or is she in disguise?
Nah, man. Isha is a guy's name. It means resounding light in Sanskrit. It has the same source as "Ishanathan", which is another (male) name.
ray--she's a MAN.
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