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This year 22nd of May was the twelfth
marriage anniversary of my uncle and auntie. They decided to celebrate it along
with their two boys at Jaganath Dham , aka Puri. They took a flight to Bhuwaneshwar, the capital city of Odisha and reached
their destination on that very day.
2015 or 1422 (as per Indian calendar) also happens to be the year for the celebrations of the Nava- Kalevera ceremony.
It is an auspicious event where the hearts of Sri Jaganath, his brother Balaram
and his sister Subhadra are replaced
from one idol to another. Coincidentally my uncle and his family’s stay coincided
with the phase of Daru (wood) change . On such auspicious occasions the temple remains closed in
order to maintain sanctity. But luckily, my uncle and auntie got a chance to do
a special Darshan as the temple had opened just for one hour early in the
morning. The rest of their Odisha trip went smoothly. The children enjoyed
the sea, my auntie satisfied her shopping spree and my uncle satiated his
appetite for good food.
They landed in Kolkata on 25th of May and came to our place for the evening tea. While binging on gaaja, a special
sweet from Puri, they started sharing their travel experiences.
Gradually
the conversation drifted to the Pandas(God men) of Puri. As the discussion
became more intense my mother suddenly pointed towards me and asked, “Remember
that incident where we visited Puri temple with grandma. “ Oh yes! How could I
forget that?” I answered . “ It was not just a hilarious episode but an
eye-opener too.” “Really !” blurted my uncle. I saw even my auntie was looking at me with
round curious eyes. It meant I was expected to narrate the story. Therefore, in
rumination I began:
Have
you heard the contemporary Bengali song? “ Ma dekha de noi taka de” (Holy
mother, either reveal yourself to us, or show some money to us. ). Our
pilgrimage to Puri’s Jaganath temple compelled me to believe that, unless you monetarily satisfy the medium (guru),you won’t be able to commune or even see
“dekha” the Goddess i.e. “ Ma”.
Hearing
this my auntie exclaimed, “You are so true! What a lucrative business they
have made out of it!” I smirked, and
continued.
We
paid Rs.150 per head for a near view of the idols. Charges for the sacred food,
personal Panda(the priest who would
guide us inside the temple) and auto fair were to be kept aside. Not only that,
on touching the feet of individual deities each member of our family paid a
homage of Rs.10. To this my uncle added, “ Now it’s Rs. 20. But the Pandas of
the temple will bless you only if you pay Rs. 50 or more.” “Really!” we
unanimously exclaimed and raised our eye brows. Then I was requested to resume.
After
paying the sum we were asked to follow our hired Panda and repeat the holy
enchantments which he uttered while revolving around the Gods. On completing the
parikrama on the slimy floor, my Grandma touched Sri Jaganath’s feet ones again
and donated another Rs. 10 note at his feet. According to the temple-panda that
sum was just not adequate and he wasted no time to be vehemently vociferous
about it. My Grandma stood flummoxed
while my father, being how he is, obstinately stuck to his stand----- either
Rs. 10 or no money. The verbal dual went on for quite a few minutes . God knows
where it would have led to if our Panda had not intervened as a mediator. He too
had his own interest. After all, other
clients were waiting for him! But his efforts served no ends because this
infuriated the resident panda furthermore .Moreover, all the resident pandas stationed
near the idols ganged up against us and started using abuses and slang.
It
turned into a cacophony worth public attention. While everybody directly or
indirectly participated in this mayhem, my eyes fell on Subhadra’s idol. She looked somewhat different. As I scanned on, I could spot a cockroach crawling up and down her nose. Poor she! Couldn’t even
scream or throw away that irksome, creepy insect. All that she could do was to
wait patiently for the resident panda to finish the monetary dispute. Then with
the help of some divine providence turn to see her face.
Being a
woman myself, I couldn’t bear the sight anymore. Come on! I can’t imagine a
cockroach crawling on my face. I had to do something about it and I did.
I shook those money- monger pandas out of the
dispute by shouting and pointing the cockroach on the Goddess's face. At first they
didn’t even pay any heed. Only after a few moments when one of them noticed
that the devotees were laughing at them, he looked at her and realised his
mistake.
Thus
the dispute came to an end. My father reminded them that their primary duty was to serve
the Gods and not hackle over money. Saying that, all of us left the temple. This
embarrassed the pandas and provided humour to the people around, but brought me
face to face with a stark reality of life: Money is more coveted than Nirvana.
“And
you are right indeed.”,said my uncle with a sigh. “Now a days you are not even
eligible for bhog (holy food) if you don’t pay a homage of a minimum of Rs. 2000.
It seems even God’s blessings are only meant for the wealthy ones.”
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