I recently went on a three day trip to Thiruvananthapuram in Kerala. It is the well known abode of Sri Anantha Padmanabha Swamy, Lord Vishnu in his reclining pose. The ancient temple attracts thousands of visitors everyday and lends its name to the city, Ananthapuri. The temple is entrusted for upkeep with the Travancore royal family, and hence, they call themselves as Padmanabha Dasas or the vassals of Lord Padmanabha. Though I was in the city for three days and had plenty of things planned, I wanted to visit the temple on all three days at different hours to just experience His glory in different kaala pujas.. The easiest and shortest time taken for darshan is in the wee hours of the morning. At 3.30 AM, the temple doors are opened for devotees to take in the Lord in His previous night’s adornments. This is called nirmalya darshan. While I was told that there would hardly be any crowd at this hour of the day, I was pleasantly surprised to see a couple of hundred people in the queue with me. Old, young and children jostled quickly to behold the Lord before even dawn breaks. One elderly man, probably in his late 70s, admitted to me that his day begins only if he manages to see the Lord. He was a resident of the city, but it takes him fifteen minutes to get to the temple every morning. He has been doing this for over forty years now..The longest queue and time-taking darshan for me was on the third day of my visit. I went to the temple by 10.00 AM and could get a glimpse of the Lord only by noon. The serpentine queue snaked its way all around the periphery of the temple. We literally moved ahead step by step. Ahead of me, old ladies, toddlers, youth and married couples all stood patiently. No one complained. I wondered what motivated people to stay put for so long to only catch a glimpse of the deity for under ten seconds. The garbhagriha is so dark, lit by oil lamps, flickering constantly, it is impossible to even make out the Lord’s form in the first go. Yet, the devotees persevere. Some of the ladies were constantly chanting Narayaneeyam, a Sanskrit text which summarises the Bhagavata Purana..Surrounding the Padmanabhaswamy temple, there are a few other smaller but equally powerful temples. Pazhavangadi Sri Maha Ganapathy temple, dedicated to Lord Ganesha and Sri Srikanteswara temple, dedicated to Lord Shiva, are in the periphery of the fort itself. The other temples in the city include Attukal Bhagavathy temple and Sri Parasurama temple. One thing that I noticed, as a tourist, but commonplace in most of these temples was how people practise their faith. All these temples have fixed timings. They are not open throughout the day. Mostly they are open for a couple of hours early in the morning. Then for about a few hours mid-morning to noon and for a few hours from evening to night. If I reached a temple when it was shut, I would just wait in the corridors until the doors opened. I was a tourist with little else to do..Yet, I saw commoners, turning up, realising that the temple was closed, just placing their flowers at the doors. Or on their way to work and returning back from home, stopping their vehicles nearby, just to stand for a moment, look at the temple’s gopuram, touch the ground wherever they were and carry on. I know this is not uncommon in India, and definitely, not something unique only to Thiruvananthapuram. However, being a tourist, I had the leisure to observe these behaviours a little more in detail.Then, when I came back home and drove around, these gestures seemed to be ubiquitous. Old ladies crossing a heavily jammed road, only to linger a moment in front of a Ganesha idol at the foot of a tree. Florists sparing a few extra flowers that they place lovingly for a roadside deity or at the threshold of a temple. In some way, all of it seems meaningless. Why make a momentary diversion, while one can immerse in the total experience? Why do devotees persevere for an experience so fleeting?.I closely observed my own life. In the storm of daily happenings at work and home, constant travel, fluctuating health and relationships, sparing a moment’s thought for the Lord seemed like heavy work. Yet, it was those few moments which lent me stability and sanity. So, I too, keep an image of the Lord on my desk and place a flower daily, irrespective of being able to go to the temple myself. I realised that the big faith in these small things is what keeps us spiritual and rooted at the end of the day.
I recently went on a three day trip to Thiruvananthapuram in Kerala. It is the well known abode of Sri Anantha Padmanabha Swamy, Lord Vishnu in his reclining pose. The ancient temple attracts thousands of visitors everyday and lends its name to the city, Ananthapuri. The temple is entrusted for upkeep with the Travancore royal family, and hence, they call themselves as Padmanabha Dasas or the vassals of Lord Padmanabha. Though I was in the city for three days and had plenty of things planned, I wanted to visit the temple on all three days at different hours to just experience His glory in different kaala pujas.. The easiest and shortest time taken for darshan is in the wee hours of the morning. At 3.30 AM, the temple doors are opened for devotees to take in the Lord in His previous night’s adornments. This is called nirmalya darshan. While I was told that there would hardly be any crowd at this hour of the day, I was pleasantly surprised to see a couple of hundred people in the queue with me. Old, young and children jostled quickly to behold the Lord before even dawn breaks. One elderly man, probably in his late 70s, admitted to me that his day begins only if he manages to see the Lord. He was a resident of the city, but it takes him fifteen minutes to get to the temple every morning. He has been doing this for over forty years now..The longest queue and time-taking darshan for me was on the third day of my visit. I went to the temple by 10.00 AM and could get a glimpse of the Lord only by noon. The serpentine queue snaked its way all around the periphery of the temple. We literally moved ahead step by step. Ahead of me, old ladies, toddlers, youth and married couples all stood patiently. No one complained. I wondered what motivated people to stay put for so long to only catch a glimpse of the deity for under ten seconds. The garbhagriha is so dark, lit by oil lamps, flickering constantly, it is impossible to even make out the Lord’s form in the first go. Yet, the devotees persevere. Some of the ladies were constantly chanting Narayaneeyam, a Sanskrit text which summarises the Bhagavata Purana..Surrounding the Padmanabhaswamy temple, there are a few other smaller but equally powerful temples. Pazhavangadi Sri Maha Ganapathy temple, dedicated to Lord Ganesha and Sri Srikanteswara temple, dedicated to Lord Shiva, are in the periphery of the fort itself. The other temples in the city include Attukal Bhagavathy temple and Sri Parasurama temple. One thing that I noticed, as a tourist, but commonplace in most of these temples was how people practise their faith. All these temples have fixed timings. They are not open throughout the day. Mostly they are open for a couple of hours early in the morning. Then for about a few hours mid-morning to noon and for a few hours from evening to night. If I reached a temple when it was shut, I would just wait in the corridors until the doors opened. I was a tourist with little else to do..Yet, I saw commoners, turning up, realising that the temple was closed, just placing their flowers at the doors. Or on their way to work and returning back from home, stopping their vehicles nearby, just to stand for a moment, look at the temple’s gopuram, touch the ground wherever they were and carry on. I know this is not uncommon in India, and definitely, not something unique only to Thiruvananthapuram. However, being a tourist, I had the leisure to observe these behaviours a little more in detail.Then, when I came back home and drove around, these gestures seemed to be ubiquitous. Old ladies crossing a heavily jammed road, only to linger a moment in front of a Ganesha idol at the foot of a tree. Florists sparing a few extra flowers that they place lovingly for a roadside deity or at the threshold of a temple. In some way, all of it seems meaningless. Why make a momentary diversion, while one can immerse in the total experience? Why do devotees persevere for an experience so fleeting?.I closely observed my own life. In the storm of daily happenings at work and home, constant travel, fluctuating health and relationships, sparing a moment’s thought for the Lord seemed like heavy work. Yet, it was those few moments which lent me stability and sanity. So, I too, keep an image of the Lord on my desk and place a flower daily, irrespective of being able to go to the temple myself. I realised that the big faith in these small things is what keeps us spiritual and rooted at the end of the day.