Wandering through Kathmandu on day two of my trip I really wanted to see the much fabled Pashupatinath temple. The holiest of all Hindu temples in Nepal, Pashupatinath stands as a gleaming edifice of worship on the banks of the Bagamati River in Kathmandu. It is not known when the Linga was actually placed there but records mention the presence of the temple as far back as the 3rd century B.C. The temple was last rebuilt in the 17th century and is constructed in the Pagoda Style typical to the Kathmandu Valley. It has beautiful woodwork, the roofs are covered with gold and the doors covered with silver.
The terrain in the temple complex is quite uneven, not to mention the large area that the complex actually occupies as well. So finding the actual temple can become difficult. Add to it the fact that the next day was Mahashivrtra, there was a throng of people everywhere. In that confusion I ended up going everywhere from the toilets to the old age ashram to the cremation platforms on the river banks before I found myself before the majestic painted entrance to the main temple.
On entering the main complex all I could see in front of me was a giant Nandi statue covered in gold, so big that you almost can’t see the temple behind it.And on top of this Nandi, monkeys, just hanging out. Pashupatinath being patron deity of animals they have full freedom to do anything inside the temple premises. As an architect I was very affected by the scale and the quiet grace of the structure. The temple doesn’t speak much, it is simple but its silence is its strength. Against all the black stone and masonry around it the silver doors stand out eloquently speaking of the shrines importance.
Then there was the horde of Sadhus who had descended into the complex in preparation for next day’s festivities. I stood there astounded at that sight. Each sadhu had lit a fire in front of him, turning wood into the Bhasma (ash) that they cover their bodies with. This being my first encounter with the Naga Sadhus, I was amazed with their appearance. White as ghosts, naked as the day they were born, naked as the day they died from the material world, hair matted or in locks an inch thick, beards grown so thick the only visible part of the face was the forehead, eyes deep and dark, the old ones emanating a strength which I have never seen before, that which comes from penance, that which can only be experienced, never captured except in memory.
As the collective fire roared, the smoke became thick and white against the now darkening azure sky. Suddenly the rows of oil lamps burning at the base of the main temple platform became noticeable. As I walked down the stairs towards the platform, I came across a younger sadhu who was helping an ancient one to the other end of the courtyard. I stood to let them pass, the old sadhu looked at me and stopped abruptly. He mumbled something. His apprentice leaned over to hear and rose up, both of them smiling knowingly at me. Taken aback I asked him what happened and he replied, “You have good fortune” flashing that smile again. For some reason, I bent over and touched the old ones feet which caught him by surprise. I don’t think the Naga Sadhus are used to people touching their feet. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that they all consider themselves dead. He mumbled something again. Assuming it was aashirwad I bowed and left.
I got to the end of the line which wrapped around the temple all the way to the back of the actual darshan area. I stood there soaking in the revelry around me, the chanting of the mantras, screams of Jai Shambho and Har Har Mahadev, the smoke from the fires, the incense and the chillum’s. Probably one of the few places in the world where the passive smoke from the ganja can make you light headed and suddenly alert at the same time, which I was. The monkey acrobatics also kept me entertained. Especially the ones that were high on the smoke as well. At the base of the platform on which I stood in line, were the rows of lamps that I had seen from the door. Their flames flickered in the wind, and their light reflected off the faces of everyone who passed by them.
As the sky turned darker the fires seemed to burn brighter, the billowing smoke making a sort of screen on which the light from the flames and the shadows leapt and danced. The colours grey and yellow and red and blue and black and orange seemed like the splashes on an abstract canvas, all one, yet so different, all of them alive. The light was muted but ever so graceful and the cacophony of sound infused the atmosphere with an energy that was almost electric.
Then it was my turn for the darshan. By some coincidence at that same time the Bhatta's inside the temple decided that it had grown too dark. So they lit the additional lamps inside the sanctum and gave the order to switch on the other lights installed in the temple for the next day. The illumination was sudden and the reaction was a collective “aah” that caught everyone’s attention. The whole complex was engulfed in the warm glow of soft yellow light.
The main temple with its burnished silver and gold sparkled like a jewel. The thousand lights suspended over the court like a swarm of fireflies, the gentle breeze making them sway. Maybe this is what the sadhu meant of when he spoke of good luck, maybe it was two naked Sadhus laughing at the futility of my clothes, who knows.
I walked off the platform after the darshan and roamed about the complex seeing its every nook and cranny. As I walked out towards where I had kept my shoes, I was in a state that I can only describe as “sensory overload.” My mind was furiously trying to process everything it had been exposed to, the visual, the audible, the spiritual and also the incomprehensible. It failed miserably. By the time I came out of my trance I was back at the hotel, I just had to put pen on paper. I just had to get it all out.
I think the best part about the Lohegaon airport is the fact that you get to walk up to the plane you are going to fly in. For someone like me who hasn’t flown all that much I still find planes insanely awesome!! I mean it’s a contraption that makes you fly!! Come on!! How cool is that ?!! It emits these vibrations and this roaring sound that just gets inside your chest and makes your heart pound.
At Pune Airport you get to see that airplane so up close it is awe inspiring. The plane powering up is just mesmerizing. I was to board the flight from the rear gate but on my way there I almost walked up to the engine under the left wing, wanting to touch it as if I was in a trance. If it wasn’t for a ground crew steward screaming at me, I almost might have.(DAMN!!)
As the plane takes of you get this sudden rush, I think it’s the body’s way of dealing with the loss of contact to the earth, dealing with a loss of footing maybe?? And once you are in the air you get to look at a city from above. Us architects actually get a perspective that we generally use to describe every design on paper but rarely see in reality.
Not to mention Pune is an amazing city to look at, at night. Ravan’s Lanka might have been made of gold but at night, Pune gleams like it’s made of gold as well. To look at a city from above, to see people walking about and cars driving on the roads is truly amazing . Indeed flying is something everyone should experience at least once.
