I had been thinking of going to a Mandir (temple) since a long time now. One day I decided that after work I will make it to the closest Mandir in Florida, where I was working then. My work weekdays are usually noisy and it requires me to interact with all kinds of people and run around to get things done. That does not leave me with enough energy at the end of the day to do anything. I had to drag myself to visit the Hare Krishna Mandir, the one closest from my work place. I know it sounds a little atheist from my side when I say I dragged myself but I am glad I did that. I wanted to have an encounter with God and hear the peace in the calm atmosphere of Mandir. This is a Krishna Mandir and Lord Krishna is known to be the Kanhaiyya (someone who is surrounded by his darlings) of Indian mythology.
The work day ended at the normal time but the enthusiasm to visit this Mandir kept building in for the reason of the peacefulness. Other reason was because I had decided and was determined to stick to what I had thought to do. The 30 minute drive was worth seeing what I saw.
The entrance stretched to vast dilapidated like ground but some signs of ancient buildings did give the area some life. I drove where the rutted path took me just to reach a dead end and see some cows grazing in the field. I felt a nausea run down when I saw those things that you have grown up in India with. Finally I figure out where the building is and as I walk in, I was astonished to see the white guy coming out of the Mandir and greeting “Hare Krishna” instead of “How are you doing?” which is so typical. Further walking towards the shoe rack, I saw another white man dressed in black kurta and jeans. He was doing what seemed to me parikrama (the path surrounding something, in this case “Mandir”) and chanting prayers with beads held in one hand that was covered with a saffron cloth. While the hands were turning the beads and lips chanting the prayer, he looked totally immersed in Lord, as if all the elements comprising his body came together. There was nothing that distracted him. Yes, we exchanged looks but that’s about it.
The steel doors of the area close to Lord and his beloved, Radha were closed and a lady was decorating the interior of the pooja (ritual actions that compose different stages of Hindu worship) area. I did my rituals and sat for some time to occupy myself in calm of the ambiance. I kept looking at the women decorating with my mind blank while making myself one with the peace and I saw a white lady dressed in sari (a female garment draped over the body in various styles). The quietness of her face was something that caught my attention. Her look told me that she has given her life to the worship of Krishna and dedicatedly she kept doing the work. Her helper was a Hispanic woman dressed in casual western wear but her thoughts seemed sync with the atmosphere. They both finished what they were doing and genuflected to pay evening good bye to their beloved.
I figured that all the care takers of the Mandir, I saw at that time of the day where Non-Indians. I was happy to see that the culture or religion or whatever you call it, that I am coming from is deepening its roots outside India. I do not want to be a stereotype when I boast about Indian culture and religions but I would say that I am close to it in my own way. Although the people were worshiping “a form of Indian God”, I saw a belief in them irrespective of the fact who they worshipped. I saw a belief that most of us are in some way getting over due to the effects of modernization. The most strikingly dressed devotee was the white man wearing white dhoti kurta, head completely shaved but a small strand of hair in the center of the hairless head. The first thought that emerged in my mind “WOW, who does that these days and that too a foreigner!!!!”
Another WOW expression, the ongoing bhajan on a loud speaker few meters outside the Mandir. Haven’t heard those since the last time I was in India. There are temple in US where I have been to before going to this one but they are all quiet to the point where you can see people moving and chanting but you cannot hear their movements. As I was walking out, I bowed in respect and saw that Hispanic female walk towards the shoe stand. She must be leaving too since it was about time Mandir closed. I happened to talk to her about the Mandir timings and I was very surprised to hear that it opens at 4:30am for the first aarti and there are good numbers of people who join the aarti at that time.
The experience was wonderful and I thought for a moment “May be I should come at 4:30am to attend the aarti.” But I guess I am not that devoted right now, so I let the thought pass the backyard lane of my mind and it never got processed. The thought got dumped somewhere in the backyard of my mind but it keeps popping up every now and then I end up asking myself “What happened to you going @ 4:30 in the morning to that mandir? Are you ever going to make it happen?” And I smile and close my eyes with a “Huh, some day when I feel it from my heart, I will do it.”
With all that said, I will always keep this experience as a part of my memory and alive as a post on my blog.
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