The Kapaleeshwarar temple, which I seek advice from as Kapali as a result of locals name it that, isn’t essentially the most lovely temple in the world. But I really feel extra at peace right here than I do at some other place of worship.
Kapali is one of my stops on each journey to Chennai. I solely should step into traffic-clogged Mylapore, with its bylanes of chaos and color, to be swept up in holy frenzy. I spot from the alleys, amidst a tangle of wires, the temple’s multi-hued entrance-tower attain for the sky. Before I make my manner in, I go away behind competing fragrances from oleander, chrysanthemum and jasmine garlands, and launch my flip-flops into a sea of footwear. I do know I don’t frequent Kapali only for the carvings, intricate and bursting with tales, or for the choices, to eat fistfuls of which I generally queue twice. There’s one thing extra.
I used to be introduced up in a Hindu household, subsequent to a Protestant church and went to a Bahai college, adopted by a college whose leanings have been Buddhist. There was, due to this fact, some critical confusion rising up. At Sunday college, which we went to as a result of the pastor was our closest neighbour in the Himalayan city of Gangtok, we have been taught there was just one God. But then I’d go house to my cobweb-addled household altar with its many-limbed gods and goddesses and surprise if the Sunday college instructor was mendacity. How disapproving the household priest was when he found that my dad and mom allowed — even inspired — us to go to church. Added to this combine was a lot of Buddhist speak, simplistically distilled into one thing about life being struggling.
When a plethora of religions is foisted on you as a child, you change into a lifelong spirituality fanatic. So, sure, I stroll the Camino de Santiago, the 900-kilometre Catholic pilgrimage throughout Spain, and hike as much as the Paro Taksang in Bhutan. I remorse not having accomplished the Kumano Kodo whereas in Japan. I’ve contemplated fasting for Ramadan however am nervous will probably be seen as gimmicky. I wish to go on a Kailash-Mansarovar journey as a result of it appears to be like soul-cleansing. Do I try these pilgrimages for absolution? I nonetheless don’t know. I perceive that a majority of these religious experiences entail copious mountaineering and have typically puzzled if I crave them as a result of there’s strolling concerned.
Unfortunately, I seldom discover this quest for spirituality fulfilled in well-known locations of worship. It evaded me all thrice on the Jagannath temple in Puri and in the crowds of the Somnath in Gujarat. I frantically hunted for it on the Santiago de Compostela as I did on the Vatican. I’m envious of you in case you really feel a sure power at dargahs and mosques. I wish to be you once you declare a calm descends on you on the Pashupatinath temple in Kathmandu. I attempted feeling at one with God on the Kamakhya in Guwahati however failed. Neither the Meenakshi temple at Madurai nor the Padmanabhaswamy temple in Thiruvananthapuram did a lot. When I didn’t discover spirituality, no matter meaning, on the Golden Temple — what wretched human isn’t moved by the Golden Temple? — I deserted rustling up a relationship with God by way of man-made constructions.
That is why my being in thrall of Kapali from the get-go astounded me. I’m sure I don’t frequent the temple for the aesthetics. Like many homes of worship, it has historical past, nevertheless it’s not historical past I’m right here for. Nor the quiet, which you’ll solely discover in case your go to coincides with the solar being at its zenith on a working day. The temple is laidback. You can put on what you need. No priest solicits you for donations or appears to be like at you with desperation. No one asks in your caste, your sub-caste, your sub-sub-sub-caste and your gotra. (Many proud South Indians are fast to level out the South-North dichotomy right here and declare that that is regular at most South Indian temples, however I don’t really feel as constructive in all these different temples as I do at Kapali, so Kapali wins).
I just like the hilarious rooster that catwalks down the stage on the most opportune moments. And the cat that tries to unsuccessfully bully the rooster. I just like the white vibuthi a priest plasters on my brow. I just like the rose-and-vilva-leaf garland I’m provided. I just like the live shows even when I perceive nothing. I like my circumambulations, if I can name shuffling from one naked foot to a different on the temple’s scorching flooring that. Every time I come right here, my thoughts stills. Every time I’m right here, I really feel grateful.
The older I get, the extra jaded I change into with organised faith — all organised religions. So a lot evil occurs in the title of God, a lot polarisation. I’m glad (and shocked) that a temple — this bastion of organised faith — helps alleviate the cynicism considerably. I’ve determined to embrace that for now and not enable any type of overthinking to get in the way in which of Kapali and me.
Prajwal Parajuly is the creator of The Gurkha’s Daughter and Land Where I Flee. He loves idli, loathes naan, and is detached to espresso. He teaches Creative Writing at Krea University and oscillates between New York City and Sri City.
