It was my last day in Varanasi – I would catch an east-bound train that night. I awoke early and headed into the twisting warrens of the old city to visit Kashi Vishwanath Temple. I was told that I should go early in the morning before it gets “crazy”. And to bring my passport for the security checkpoint there . This temple, the holiest site for India’s millions of Hindus, was a frequent target of Islamic terrorist threats. I also gathered a stack of 10 rupee notes to keep in my pocket for priests, blessings, and flowers.
The narrow lanes of the old city were empty and silent, and my footsteps echoed on the cobblestones. As I neared the temple, the throng of activity began. I passed flower-sellers, sacred souvenir shops, chai stands, bakers, and then clusters of armed soldiers. At the security checkpoint the numbers in my passport were carefully written into a massive ledger. A fellow bobbled his head at me and gestured to a rack of shoes. It was time to take my shoes off. I hesitated as I looked at the marble floors ahead – sopping wet with Ganges river water and gooey with spots of cow dung and monkey droppings. I peeled my socks off and surrendered to the moment, trusting that a bit of holy offal on my feet could do me no harm.
I stepped out of the security checkpoint, and a woman gave me a little leaf bowl filled with milk and flowers. I handed her a 10 rupee note and crossed into the temple, nearly bursting into laughter as I beheld the chaotic beauty.
Silver, gold, marble; statues, gods, altars, within and within and within each other filled every inch of space. Thousands of bright orange and magenta flowers were strewn about and piled on the altars, the smoke of incense filled the air, and there was a constant SPLASH as Hindu pilgrims tossed big copper kettles of Ganges river water over gods and altars. The marble floor was slippery with puddles of holy water. The sounds of chanting and chattering and constantly ringing bells resounded off the marble walls and floors. It was colorful and wet and loud and crowded; and on top of that the whole place pulsated with movement – of the monkeys. Monkeys climbed everywhere, and were sitting on every altar munching on flowers.
The center of the temple was an inner sanctum containing a Shiva lingham, or phallis, on a pure silver altar. That space was packed full of people making offerings, with a high priest on a stool overseeing them and giving blessings. The sanctum was so jam-packed that I had no interest in going in. But in the Indian spirit of “there is always room for one more!”, people gestured at me to come in, come in. I squeezed in, poured my milk over the lingham, got my blessing from the priest in exchange for a handful of rupees notes, and then just wanted out. I felt my ribs being compressed by the push of people leaning in to touch the lingham. There was no easy way out and more people were crowding in. It took several minutes of patient doing, to worm my way out from the center of that smash.
Parvati is the wife of Shiva. I found her shrine room off to the side, with much more breathing room. I placed my flowers at her feet. I thought I was alone in there until I noticed the priest in the corner. He was wild-eyed and grinning as he dabbed my third eye with his red paint. I reached into my pocket and discovered I was out of rupees. I sheepishly smiled at him, and then we both watched as a four-foot long garland of marigold flowers spontaneously fell off a Ganesh (elephant god) statue. I picked it up off the floor and reached to put it back on the statue but the priest cried out “No, No! It is for you! Ganesh has given it to you!” He placed the garland around my neck and I slipped out of the room with a bow and “namaste”.
Stepping into the courtyard I saw a couple monkeys out of the corner of my eye. Suddenly, ZOOM, a monkey leapt at me and his perfect fetal hand yanked a flower from off my neck. He popped it in his mouth and gobbled it up. I was stunned and frightened at first , and then a feeling of delight crept through my whole being. I laughed as I tore more flowers off my neck and tossed them to the monkeys to eat. “Here!” I told them, “Ganesh has given these to you!”
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