After Bangalore, Eaman and I, along with my mom, aunt, uncle and cousin piled into a car to drop us off in Mysore. But before we parted ways, my family took us to a very special place in the temple town of Nanjangud.
This is the Srikanteshwara temple, a major pilgrimage site dedicated to Shiva that dates back more than 600 years and was once frequented (and often cared for) by my grandfather and great-grandfather. I had never been here before, so to finally visit with Eaman by my side was truly special. We couldn’t take photos inside, but I’ll tell it like we saw it and show you what the grounds look like.
It’s big and cavernous and dimly lit, making the whole experience just a little more intense. You may have seen Hindu temples around India or other countries, but forget everything you know about them. This temple is about as real as it gets. Even I was a little culture-shocked. There were people rolling around the floor (in sacrifice), naked babies laid in front of idols and people prostrating so fervently. I truly had never seen anything like it. It felt like we had traveled back in time.
We were lucky enough to have one of our relatives, a man who volunteers much of his time at the temple, show us around — and bypass a lot of long lines. He explained the who, what and why of the goings-on to Eaman, who’s fairly new to Hinduism.
But for someone who’s new, the priests certainly took a liking to Eaman. At one idol, without any forseeable rhyme or reason, a priest placed an elaborate garland on him. No, he wasn’t told that this foreigner was here from America. Or that this foreigner could use a blessing or two for his future travels. Out of nowhere, Eaman got the garland. My uncle told us that they come to this temple every year and not once has he ever gotten a garland. I don’t really prescribe to any one religion and I know this could be chalked up to pure coincidence, but I still think it was pretty amazing.
Among the many things I’ve learned in this year is that there is meaning — sometimes clear, often vague — behind every action. It was only fitting to have such an empowering experience at a place with so much personal history. And it was the perfect way to close one chapter — seeing India with my mom by our side — and start another, as we began new adventures through India on our own.
Another version of this very tree grows atop the temple. As in, it grows out of concrete without any soil. There’s only one time of the year that people are allowed up there, so I can’t verify the miracle, but my uncle swears by it.
Near the temple is the sacred Kapila River, where men on these cool circular boats take people around for short rides. We paid 30 rupees — apparenty too much — for a 10-minute ride and a spin, Disney World tea cups’ style, at the end. A fun and dizzying way to end our day.
