Kolkata, India. Kalighat. Kali Temple.
Kali is, to say the least, feisty, fiery, fearsome, fierce powerful female deity in Hinduism. A consort of Shiva. People go to Kali, make offerings, when they need serious protection, when they want to do "battle" on their behalf. She will slay demons, take down anything that may be oppressing you. She is most often seen with a necklace full of skulls, blood dripping, a man underneath her feet at his death. This is a deity you don't want to mess with, a lady you want on your side.
Following my visit to Mother Theresa's home of the dying, my hands are tingling, vibrating, pulsing, unsure of where to direct their energy. "What to do?" as one of my favorite Indian sayings goes. The students and i walk into the courtyard of the Kali Temple.
Courtyard is entirely too polite of a word to describe the scene. People everywhere. All of my senses are ferociously assaulted with vivid humanity. Hindus waiting in some sort of line around the outside of the temple, pushing, shoving to get a glimpse, to make an offering to the inner sanctum where Kali resides. On the outskirts of this line, a man walks abruptly up to me and says, "shanti, shanti om" (in short meaning peace) while tying a vibrant red and yellow string around my wrist. promptly followed by a plea for rupees. yet, i just arrived in india and truthfully do not have any rupees to give. frustrated, he walks away in some form of disgust. i look at him directly and repeat his own prayer for him with, "shanti shanti om". This brings about a smile to his face and a visible release of frustration.
I turn to the right of me and notice a large goat fenced in, tied up, to what is respectively the front of the Kali temple. A crowd surrounds the enclosure and a man stands stands to the goat's side holding a decent sized machete. Another man holds the head of the goat while the executioner slices chops at the neck in one quick motion lacking any indication of hesitance. The body flails in the opposite direction of its beheader. Head still in hand. Blood squirting, spurting in too many directions for my heart to handle. My heart pains, twinges feels the soft warm body of life exit. One life leaves this world, enabling many more to eat. A ritual beheading to honor Kali, now taking place multiple times in a day primarily now to feed the poor, as it were.
The Kali temple thrives, beats, pulses, radiates all qualities of life. I look at the mob of people in line swaying together and against each other for their opportunity at Kali. I hand my shoes and my bag to Peg, commanded by some force to enter. I step in to this mass of pushing and shoving to come closer to an understanding of this urgency for this powerful deity. Me and my timid tall white girl self in a sea of swarming Hindus needing and craving to give Kali their offerings of Marigold garlands, incense, and rupees. I am swallowed whole by this crowd, unsure if i will ever get to see her, understand this Kali, or if i will ever get out. it feels like falling, floating, tripping-all must push all must shove chaos pushing shoving push crowd clumped lumped moving forward or left behind. floor dirty, feet sticky. i am almost there to the inner sanctum and yet i may never see her. i have no idea what to do, how to give, what is supposed to happen here. All consuming, crazy, spinning, loud frantic shove push crowd yell shout murmur of religious offering. will there be some sort of release? will i decide to find a way out or push harder? or remain here dazed?
a Brahmin priest gets my attention by a touch on my shoulder, guides me, enables me, moves me close to her. fire burning over the threshold, look up and there she is, all black with her third eye wide open blaring at me. Terrifying. There we are, Me and Kali. all else fades away. silence takes over. somehow stillness settles in to me. movement seems to cease all around or i stop noticing. Peace exits within the chaos. i know for what seems like the first time what peace feels like. breath. calm in noise. shanti shanti.
This lesson resonates with me daily in this place called India. With out is I may not make it here.
Welcome to India.
This could also be known as the adjective-fest. There are simply not enough words to describe India.
I turn to the right of me and notice a large goat fenced in, tied up, to what is respectively the front of the Kali temple. A crowd surrounds the enclosure and a man stands stands to the goat's side holding a decent sized machete. Another man holds the head of the goat while the executioner slices chops at the neck in one quick motion lacking any indication of hesitance. The body flails in the opposite direction of its beheader. Head still in hand. Blood squirting, spurting in too many directions for my heart to handle. My heart pains, twinges feels the soft warm body of life exit. One life leaves this world, enabling many more to eat. A ritual beheading to honor Kali, now taking place multiple times in a day primarily now to feed the poor, as it were.
The Kali temple thrives, beats, pulses, radiates all qualities of life. I look at the mob of people in line swaying together and against each other for their opportunity at Kali. I hand my shoes and my bag to Peg, commanded by some force to enter. I step in to this mass of pushing and shoving to come closer to an understanding of this urgency for this powerful deity. Me and my timid tall white girl self in a sea of swarming Hindus needing and craving to give Kali their offerings of Marigold garlands, incense, and rupees. I am swallowed whole by this crowd, unsure if i will ever get to see her, understand this Kali, or if i will ever get out. it feels like falling, floating, tripping-all must push all must shove chaos pushing shoving push crowd clumped lumped moving forward or left behind. floor dirty, feet sticky. i am almost there to the inner sanctum and yet i may never see her. i have no idea what to do, how to give, what is supposed to happen here. All consuming, crazy, spinning, loud frantic shove push crowd yell shout murmur of religious offering. will there be some sort of release? will i decide to find a way out or push harder? or remain here dazed?
a Brahmin priest gets my attention by a touch on my shoulder, guides me, enables me, moves me close to her. fire burning over the threshold, look up and there she is, all black with her third eye wide open blaring at me. Terrifying. There we are, Me and Kali. all else fades away. silence takes over. somehow stillness settles in to me. movement seems to cease all around or i stop noticing. Peace exits within the chaos. i know for what seems like the first time what peace feels like. breath. calm in noise. shanti shanti.
This lesson resonates with me daily in this place called India. With out is I may not make it here.
Welcome to India.
This could also be known as the adjective-fest. There are simply not enough words to describe India.
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