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| Biswo |
Posted
on 03-Mar-04 02:48 PM
It was the day when I was going to China. The only person I knew who went there before I did was a fellow from my hostel who charitably wrote some realistic descriptions of China in his reply of my queries:that China is similar to our Panchayat era Nepal in many ways, you can buy everything there, that stipend is insufficient to provide for but one can probably manage with that, that Nepali embassy there may not really care about you so you are on your own, etc. etc. It didn't sound like I was going to a great place, and that added to my anxiety.
In the early morning, after the tea, I went to Pashupati Nath. I walked to Ratna Park from Lazimpat, and took a bus. I didn't really believe in gods, but wanted to go to the Pashupati and other temples just to make sure that if they exist, they don't feel bad about my snobbery. The bus had started with few passengers in Ratna Park, but they added up quickly and by the time we reached Gaushala, the bus was sardine crowded and I had to squeeze myself out. As the conductor stopped me and asked for the fare, I looked at the slopy Gaushala.History has it that when Kantiwati died, king Rana Bahadur Shah really wanted to destroy Pashupati. To do that, he had carried a mortar himself and run towards Pashupati. Only due to persistent beseeching of some sane courtiers, the
mishap was eschewed. He however managed to destroy quite a few other temples.
The origin of Pashupati is a very fishy story. But our history is so seamlessly woven with the myth and fiction that we don't really know when the fiction starts and when the fact starts. Anyway, legend has it that there was a huge lake in Kathmandu. A sage Manjushree once saw the lake, and drained the lake of waters by cutting the Chobhar hill. For the history even before that of Manjushree, scientists claim that whole Nepal and many more lands were under Tethys sea. Fifty millions years ago, as the land under Tethys collided with Deccan plateau, Nepal and vicinity emerged out of the sea, and world's highest mountains were made. In any case, we were definitely under the water once long ago. Manjushree, when he finished cutting the Chobhar hill, saw the water
of Kathmandu draining. At the end of that draining, he also saw a bright Jyotilinga. He bowed to the phallic symbol of the god. That symbol was later provided a cover of temple by Prachanda Dev.
And It was given the shape of current temple by Gunakamadeva.Later, a big earthquake swallowed everything including this temple. And people forgot the temple. Mahishpaal/Gopaal ruled Kathmandu. One of those days, a herdsman named Nepa realised that one of his cow(named Ira?) was hiding her milk. Suspicious, he watched what the cow was doing. He found that she was offering her milk to a promontary near Bagmati. When the herdsmen dug the site, they found the temple of Pashupati Nath there. The temple remained unearthed, and was revered by Nepali people eversince uninterrupted. In Malla era, when Nepal started trading with Tibet and minting coin for
gold rich Tibet, king Pratap Malla replaced the original spire, gajura, with gold spire. Sometimes before Pratap Malla's gajura substitution, a Brahmin boy called Shakaracharya from southern India had come to Nepal during his great journey to revive Hinduism in Indian subcontinent. He started the tradition of making a southern Indian pujari in the temple.
When I entered the temple, I was greeted with the untold beggers lying and crying or sometimes just silently watching me. When a beggar looks at me like that, I feel guilty of being not beggar.If you have passed by these beggars, you know what I mean. It is as if I am enjoying something illegally even though that is the case. When a beggar looks at me, I feel as if I am responsible for his mendicancy. His sharp look pierce my conscience. I try to run away from his looks. I don't even have a courage to go near the beggars and fling money at the dirty handkerchief that they spread in front of them. I don't have courage to look at the tousled hairs, hunching body, wounds from which the pus come out, and for a fleeting moment, I try to thank my parents for having a household that
could shield me from such privation and grief of the world.
Inside the temple, I didn't know what to do. I was asked to take off the shoes. There were so many places where I could spend money even inside the temple.I bought flowers, puja saamagri, and ignored the plea of a vegetarian-restaurant owner to eat the breakfast in the restaurant. I wanted to be hungry while performing puja.Such renunciation were greatly appreciated in Hinduism, I knew.
As I stood in the queue that moved slowly towards the silver door of Pashupati, I looked for someone familiar in the queue. I found no one. I think I wished I could see some girls. Girls are always good company in the temple. They know how to pray, how to do puja, and they know how to talk while waiting in the queue. Children frolicked around, as their parents chided them to behave. From sideways, old men and a lot of other jogis looked at me. I found that scrutiny a bit unsettling. My wait was long, but the puja ended pretty quickly. The pujari gave me a tika, returned a part of my offering, and then I was on my way back.
I also visited Swayambhu. What was remarkable about the man who made Swayambhu was that he mentioned himself nowhere. Yet what he had done was a great undertaking. KTM's population probably never exceeded 50K, and yet he found money and people to erect a temple in such a hill in the mid of the Kathmandu. And he was such a person, so opposite of megalomaniac kings who would rule later, that he didn't mention his name anywhere. Even the temple was named Swayambhu, the self-created one. In my village, there is a campus, which has a grossly malfunctioning tap of water. It has a plaque, and that commemorates one of the late king who graced the inauguration. And there in KTM, a great temple lies without any claim of credit.
After visiting Swayambhu, I packed my clothes. A couple of my college friends companied me to the airport, and then I flew away hoping that I had done enough to protect my
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| Biswo |
Posted
on 03-Mar-04 02:59 PM
oops. The last word was missed. It was 'future'.
...
After visiting Swayambhu, I packed my clothes. A couple of my college friends companied me to the airport, and then I flew away hoping that I had done enough to protect my future.
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| SITARA |
Posted
on 04-Mar-04 09:52 AM
Biswo:
Entertaining read.
It is funny you should narrate an act most of do before leaving Nepal-- visiting temples. To be candid, I dislike visiting prominent temples; it unsettles me. Rather, I have enjoyed more coming upon those occassional, unattended, ignored little temples where children play and puppies frolic. Those days before my departure, I go for long walks armed with a sketchpad and assorted pencils-- almost a desperate attempt to imprint the scenes in my muscular memory.
Pashupati, brings to mind the so-called "God's" unfair dristi on human beings. The beggars and the handicapped question my need to be there to pray for good fortune. The jostling crowd vying for darshan usually makes me reluctant to join the Godly enthusiasm. And with a raised "Namaskar", I return without the blessings from the pujaris.
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| Gokul |
Posted
on 04-Mar-04 10:58 AM
Biswoji
Very interesting and informational piece indeed. Ke ke bichar aaunchha hau tapai ko pani!
Pashupati is a microcosm of our world - suffering, greed, anger, joy, death, peace everything. You can see all of these there - that is why it is Pashupati. It is the very essence of our being. We all see what we want to see there. That is why Shivoham, Shivoham.
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| Biswo |
Posted
on 04-Mar-04 11:22 AM
Gokulji,
Tks for your view. I think what is so remarkable about Pashupati is it predates all of us, I mean it lived there before ancestors of any one of us. Its significance is therefore immense. It is permanent. We as evanescent creatures only pass by it. It was not destroyed in two great earthquakes of recent two centuries. It won't be, hopefully.
Sitaraji:
I always think about this: why I go to the temple even if I don't believe in god? Or at least, I am an agnostic who doesn't know the god. Lately, I realized that it was probably a fear factor, or may be a cultural factor. I am a conservative, and want to preserve our culture. To me, going to temple is a part of my culture. It has nothing to do with rationality of my expectations from god, or the statue, situated there.
I also agree that the god, if it exists and assumes its role as a creator and the writer of everyone's destiny/fate, is not fair.
And a few days ago, I was talking to my mom about a close relative who died about a week ago of cancer (May peace be upon him). I had talked to him this summer, walked with him, he was a charming man and didn't look like he was going to die anytime soon. Now he is dead. My mom is his contemporary. We talked about those who passed long ago: my grandfathers, great uncles..I asked my mom whether she thought after the death we(she and I) would have any relation at all. She replied optimistically: she said we would still have relationship as son and mother, and that she would probably be remembering me even after this life. Then I asked her then why she doesn't remember the person who probably was her son in her another life. I also asked her isn't it surprise that no one writes about their situation after they die, that no one cares about those left behind in this mortal earth after they die. She is not an educated lady.She just wondered, fumbling for answers.
It all sounds such a childish. But I was surprised by the gravity of our talk. We were actually talking about whether the soul is cognizant(regarding retaining memory) or not, whether there is an afterlife or not. We live in such a fragile state of mind. We know so little. No wonder it is comforting to think there is a god and that he takes care of us when we live and when we die. All we have to do is prey his name whenever we are free:-)
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| Deep |
Posted
on 04-Mar-04 12:48 PM
Paspati ko kuro re chha aba Biswo sir ko taruni saruni ko lafadama parya kuro ho ki gajadi din ka kura hun bhanya ta gaja ko nam nisan re na chha ani taruni lai pani chhyassa "girl" bhanera choyera bato lagya re chha. khattam bho ni. Tyo bisayama tusarapat bhe ni I enjoyed reading you piece. Hope to read more.
Aba sitaram bhai sake si ko kuro bhane bhaisake si nai garamla ni, hunna sir? Ahile yai lok ko bhyam na--kaso?
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| Biruwa |
Posted
on 04-Mar-04 12:58 PM
Biswo ji,
Tyasari ama ko dimag lai chatna nahune :)
Bichar choro ke ke kura garcha garcha bhandi hun.
in peace!
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| Biswo |
Posted
on 04-Mar-04 01:42 PM
Deep sir, eklai pashupati jaadaa yetaautaa dherai garna hunna, pitaai khaane dar hunchha bhanthe Chitwantira. Tesaile dherai yetaautaa gariyena . next time tapaai sanga nai hidnu parlaa tetaajaadaa.
Biruwaji, about death and life after death, I just remembered a book that was so remarkable for its findings. I have the book with me now, and it is very engrossing book. Long ago, it was a very famous book, its excerpts were published in Indian major family magazines, and I remember reading them. I am not sure if a magazine called 'Parimal' also publisheda part of it during late 2040s. The book's name is 'Life After Life'. Written by Raymonda Moody Jr, M.D., this book details the account of those people , more than 100, who were declared clinically dead by doctors, but who were declared alive again. (first published in 1975, the book was in the best-seller list for long.)There was also an article about brain-deadness in Readers Digest last summer, if you remember. Somehow, the articles in that Readers Digest and this book made me think that may be there is some thing after death, or at least brain death is not the death.
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| Nepe |
Posted
on 04-Mar-04 09:38 PM
Biswo ji,
Moving memoir and notes !
And there in KTM, a great temple lies without any claim of credit.
It gave me a kick. At the same time, I started to wonder, so there is no research on these important antiquity of ours. Is this because we don't have resources, will or there are religious restrictions ? As if I don't know anything !
I have a lot of memories associated with the area of Pashupatinath, because once I used to work in a school adjacent to the temple. However, I can't believe I never had a chance to do darshan of the Shivalinga inside the temple ! The courtyard of the temple was enough for me.
The scenes were too numerous and later routine to jolt me. I recall more depressing and stagnant days than the moments of ruminations.
However, one particular moment I recall often.
One day I made a visit to the Pashupatinath with three of my friends very early in the morning of a winter month. Darshanarthi had not arrived and it was empty. Just a few jogis and pujaris. Very different atmosphere. One of my friend, very interesting character, stood on the step of the temple and spoke a very touching thing about, what else, God and people. I never forget that.
I think that moment was perhaps the best spiritual moment I had in Pashupatinath.
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| Biswo |
Posted
on 05-Mar-04 10:22 PM
Nepe,
Thanks for your comment.
I don't know if anyone has come up with the name of the king who made Swayambhu. We had some remarkable historians in the past in Nepal, but they too didn't come up with anything, or at least I don't know reading anything about who made Swayambhu. I always thought it probably required a lot of manpower, and money to make such a temple over there. So, it is surprising that the man who made the temple wouldn't take credit for the temple. May be someone already knows,or may be the fact is there and someone is yet to find out about it.
Yes, an environment of the temple without any 'Darshanaarthi' surely would be different. If the temple is Pashupati Nath, then it definitely is a special moment to remember.
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| Nepe |
Posted
on 06-Mar-04 09:33 PM
Biswo ji,
The friend I talked about was a remarkable person. That plus a pre-dawn quite hour at the temple was surrealistic.
We had reached there on motorbikes straight from our overnight stay in the wedding of one of our friends in Dillibazar. We were freezing on the way. However, we felt warm at the courtyard of the temple.
It was a spontaneous decision of that friend. He was not particularly religious person. He was a skeptic, skeptic of everything including the skepticism itself. Let me say more about him. He was a sympathizer of Ne.bi.Sangh, but his best friend was a Akhile (he probably did not vote for me in the Student Union's election in TC, but it did not matter to me. He was my best friend anyway) . A girl used to love him so much, her last wish (she had a terminal illness) was to see him once. But it did not move him. On the other extreme, his heart would break to see the misery of every poor people. He fell in love with a girl we were not terribly fond of. He married her after a difficult struggle with his and her family who were not happy with this intercaste marriage. And so on. He used to be the first listener of almost all the poems and ghazals I wrote in that period.
The most remarkable thing about him was his spontaneity and asking difficult questions including those about himself.
Last time when I visited him, we recalled that visit to Pashupati too. There was some lapse between our memories. But we had both felt something similar and special at that dawn at the temple of Pashupatinath.
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