A South Indian Journey by Michael Wood

Author:Michael Wood
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2007-07-26T16:00:00+00:00

Early in the evening we drove into Tenkasi. Set back from the road was a gigantic gopura, pale in the half light. Inside were wonderfully sculpted halls depicting scenes from the Mahabarata. The local tax inspector was now warming to the whole thing. ‘These stories we imbibe with our mothers’ milk,’ he said, describing the ‘Exile in the Forest’; then came a hall with Siva’s dance portrayed, the fierce and smiling dance on adjacent pillars and the constantly recurring myth of Siva’s dance competition with the black goddess Kali. ‘See how they have been carved, such huge figures, with such delicacy. Here the artist’s hand found speech.’

After puja we sat together in the arcade.

‘These holy places we call tirthas. In Sanskrit this means crossing place of a river. In ancient times many sacred places were on holy rivers. But also tirtha means crossing place between human world and divine. God appeared on earth in these places. So they are especially suited to approach the deity now. They are crossing places between different worlds. In your country?’

‘In my country, Mr Subrahmaniam, we have completely lost the sense of two worlds.’

With that he turned to me with a worried look, hesitant, as if anxious not to offend.

‘Tell me one thing, Mr Michael. This has perplexed me during our journey. You are Christian. How do you reconcile this in your conscience with attending our rituals?’

Outside, big drops of rain were falling again. Sound of rain pattering on leaves.

‘I cannot really call myself a Christian,’ I began. ‘I don’t go to church or anything like that. I suppose you might say I’m just curious.’

‘About the god?’

‘About Tamil culture, about being Tamil. Anyway, I thought Hindus think the truth of all religions is ultimately the same?’

‘Indeed, this is what Lord Krishna says to Arjuna in the Gita.’

‘I think that too. And still, as Mrs Mala says, I feel a great heartliness in being here.’

‘It is all that matters in the end. As the saints say, the key is not in the temples or the idols or the holy baths, but in your own heart.’

Outside, flashes of lightning suddenly illuminated the horizon of townscape, silhouetting the gopura black against the night. Tremendous thunder. We hurried across the enclosure as the drops of rain fell on our backs. We ran past a huge tree hung with prayers and requests. The rain started to pour. We left the town with the wipers on monsoon setting. How on earth could the driver see through it? There followed a death-defying journey to Srivilliputtur, driver and assistant craning forwards as water cascaded over the windscreen. On the narrow road, buses and lorries approached head on out of the night, swerving with inches to spare. I kept flinching. Raja just laughed. Above our heads, MGR danced on.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.