5

Malai Mandir

The family, which had had much to think about all week and put a project on track for Ganapati’s birthday some months away, waited eagerly for Monday to bring the guru back. The modaka lessons had successfully begun, and the mother had made a fresh batch with sweet filling for the guru’s visit. It was the first batch she had made on her own and she looked forward to giving the guru a rightful share of her experiment.

But the guru, whom they could normally set their clock by, was unaccountably late.

The family grew restless, waiting for him.

‘Should we watch TV while we wait?’ said the father, fiddling with the remote.

‘No, let’s not watch TV, please! It will disturb our minds and spoil our satsang mood,’ protested the
mother.

‘Have you called him?’ the grandmother asked the grandfather.

‘I have, but his phone is out of range,’ said the grandfather.

‘No message from him? Nothing on WhatsApp?’ asked the grandmother anxiously.

‘Not a word, it’s so unlike him,’ worried the grandfather.

‘Let’s pray while we wait, it will calm us down and do him good if he’s in trouble,’ said the mother, inspired.

‘A very good idea! In fact, why don’t you sing a bhajan for us? I often hear you humming or singing the child to sleep but when have we last sat together like this with an opportunity to hear you?’ said the grandmother, smiling.

‘Oh, I would like that. There’s a song that’s been buzzing in my head all day for no reason I can think of except that it’s satsang today,’ said the mother with delicacy, not wanting to call a devotional song an ‘earworm’.

She sat down on the carpet, facing them all, and launched into the song Sheesh Gang Ardhang Parvati, singing it in the slow, meditative style of Pandits Rajan and Sajan Mishra, not in the fast-paced harati or prayer style. The song described Shiva as half-Parvati with the Ganga flowing from his head, sitting serenely on Mount Kailash, surrounded by his companions amidst heavenly music played by celestials with birdsong adding more music while the sun and moon humbly adored him.

The mother’s sweet, steady voice sang the beautiful Hindi words with such sincerity and conviction that the family’s heart leapt in sudden joy, as though it, too, was present in that delightful gathering amidst the silvery snow mountains. The father and child looked as adoringly at the mother as the sun and the moon looked at Shiva in the song, while the grandparents blinked their suddenly misting eyes. They were a good-natured family on the whole but the day had brought some wear and tear to each one, which had made them uneasy and a little cross while waiting for the guru. The song made them feel well and happy again and they heard it with gratitude for the mother’s talent.

Just as the mother finished the song, even before the family could come out of its spell, the door bell rang. The father sprang up to open the door and found the guru there, holding a fan of peacock feathers and a fragrant twist of paper.

‘I’m so sorry I’m late, and I forgot to charge my phone,’ said the guru when he was ushered in.

‘Thank God you’re here now. We were worried,’ said the grandmother as everyone got up to greet him.

‘It’s been a very exciting day for me. I spent both the morning and the afternoon at Uttara Swami Malai.’

‘Do you mean the Malaai Mandir?’ said the father.

‘Yes, it’s named after the famous old Kartikeya temple at Swami Malai in Tamil Nadu. “Malai” means “hill” in Tamil. The “a” is short in both places, so it’s “malai”, not “malaai”, which is our word for cream. We call it “Malai Mandir” locally. That’s like saying “Hill Temple”, a happy union of Tamil and Hindi, which is perfect since Kartikeya’s temples are usually found on a hill top,’ said the guru.

‘What took you there today on two visits? Was it because temples are usually shut in the afternoon?’ said the grandfather.

‘That’s right. I went back at four o’clock when they reopened for evening service. Since I’d planned to tell you about Kartikeya this evening, I thought it would be nice to spend the day there, thinking of him. I saw the elegant puja they did in the morning service. And a while ago, I saw Kartikeya’s idol with the chandan kaapu or covering of sandalwood paste. When the priest waved the harati fire at him, his face seemed alive! It was so beautiful. I’ve brought you all some holy ash from there, a proper Shaiva prasad. And I couldn’t resist getting this little peacock feather fan for you from the hawkers outside, because Kartikeya’s mount is the peacock,’ said the guru, handing the pretty fan to the child.

‘Thank you, Teacher,’ said the child, doing a namaste to the guru and a little dance step, waving the fan. ‘Kartikeya is far from home here, isn’t he?’

Just then, the mother brought in modaka, chakli and tea for the guru. ‘Let Guruji taste a modaka first,’ she smiled. When the modaka had been duly praised, a crisp, sesame-sprinkled chakli eaten and a cup of restorative tea drunk, the guru fished in his kurta’s front pocket and produced a little laminated ‘calendar god’ picture of Kartikeya as a bright-faced little boy.

He looked a bit like the ‘Murphy baby’ in old calendars from the twentieth century, rosy, plump and smiling, with curly hair. He had holy ash smeared in the three stripes of Shiva across his forehead with a bright red tilak in the middle. He wore gold earrings and tightly held a little golden vel or spear in his chubby fist. The spear represented his mother Parvati, the Shakti or super-strength that he would need later as a warrior.

‘Another good friend for you,’ said the guru, giving the pleasant picture to the child. ‘Kartikeya as a little boy is a special god for children, like his elder brother Ganapati. They are the best of friends, those two, though Kartikeya has a bit of a temper and can fly off in a rage on his peacock whereas nothing can rattle big brother Ganapati. Together, they make a great team and look out for each other. Many children like to think of them as their elder brothers. And how Kartikeya likes that! Since he’s a younger brother himself. He loves people who like to read and write and he absolutely loves poetry. He’s also a warrior in his grown-up form, a tough one. In fact, Sri Krishna says of his own best qualities in the Bhagavad Gita, in Chapter Ten, Verse 24, “Senaninam Aham Skanda (Of generals, I am Skanda)”, Skanda being yet another name for Kartikeya.’

‘Besides little Krishna, Kartikeya is the other boy-god that people love to love, especially in the south. But do you know that Kartikeya was once widely worshipped across the plains of north and east India, and in Himachal Pradesh, Uttarakhand and Kashmir? Old sculptures and texts tell us so. He was once the favourite god of the warlike clans of Haryana and Punjab, the Yaudheyas. A branch of the Yaudheyas, called the Maha Mayurakas, had champion horsemen and horse breeders in what is now Rohtak and regions nearby in Haryana. It says so in the Mahabharata, in the section called the Rajasuya Parva. “Rohitka” as Rohtak was once known, was apparently Kartikeya’s favourite city in the plains. Even ancient Buddhist texts talk about Kartikeya’s popularity in the north.’

‘So Kartikeya actually came home when he came to Uttara Swami Malai? Imagine that!’ said the father.

‘Yes, that’s what he did, after many centuries. Until Uttara Swami Malai was consecrated in 1973, there was not a single temple to Kartikeya to be found in the north except for one at Pehowa near the Punjab-Haryana border, where Kartikeya is a bachelor god, and one at Chamba in Himachal Pradesh. Women are not allowed at the Pehowa temple. Perhaps the turbulent history of that region was a reason.

‘Whereas Uttara Swami Malai has become so holy that it’s now accepted as the seventh chakra, the Sahasrara Kshetra that completes the circuit of six ancient, powerful “chakra temples” to Kartikeya in the south. That’s another story. Today, there are temples to Kartikeya around the world . . . I counted Sri Lanka, Malaysia, Singapore, Indonesia, Australia, New Zealand, Switzerland, UK, USA and Canada.’

‘However, it’s quite miraculous how his temple in Delhi came to be. Kartikeya or Kumar, “the young boy”, as we also call him, came back to the north in a most extraordinary way,’ said the guru.