Between Belief and delusion

The train wheels rattling on the Railway track, making noise and unwarned jerks. The

gust of strong wind ruffled my hairs, as I rested my head on the window sill. I was sitting

on a window seat of a passenger train of Indian railways. The Passenger trains are

generally slow, take lots of stoppages and are overcrowded. But I had to take it,

because I had to go, to fulfill my promise, my promise to god.

I made this promise when I was just a kid, a promise to visit a Hindu goddess temple.

The last time I visited this temple was with my family and I said while praying that I’ll

visit this temple again when I get my first salary. I wanted to be a rock star then, but I

ended up being an engineer. But promise is a promise. My first salary reminded me of

that promise and I don’t break promises that very often so I took my backpack and set

for the journey.

But I never knew that I would discover so much in this journey.

I don’t know if there is any phobia of crowd but it makes me uncomfortable.

The train seemed to be like an over packed suitcase. Seats were jam-packed, there

were people sitting on the floor and many were standing holding at something because

the train was wobbling too much. There were passengers even hanging out of the train,

holding the handrails. You can’t risk leaving your seat, if you even stood up for a while

it’s gone and you can’t even argue because no seats are reserved. Forget about the

toilets, even they are packed with the passengers in search of space. You can even

distinguish the inside and out of the train like two exactly opposites. Inside the train I felt
Between Belief and delusion

so locked, gasping for fresh air, irritated with the noises of the over talkative passengers

and wobbling train, outside the train was the open meadows, fresh air and peace.

Few people go off board on the stoppages but more than that comes onboard. People

go deaf amongst the crowd. They won’t even move an inch; you can argue all you want.

Getting out of the train is equally horrible as to come in. The push is what brings you in

and it is what takes you out. You have to either start going towards the door a station

prior to yours or you might miss the station. The person standing on the door could be

seen two-three compartments away from the door. But I was ascertained that I won’t be

facing any such trouble when my station comes, because mine was the last station.

The train was loaded with and was asked to pull ten times its capacity. Most of the

passengers are without tickets but ticket checkers won’t generally come to these trains.

Mainly because it has too many stoppages, a passenger without a ticket would easily

reach his station by the time a ticket checker finds him and also because he won’t be

having any space to move inside the train. And above all, his itching palm won’t be

getting any relief here. He won’t be getting any bribe if he finds someone without a ticket

because generally passengers in these trains are of near to poverty line.

The journey of two-hundred -fifty kilometers is of eight hours in these trains.

During the final hour of my journey the crowd began to scatter. The coach began to

appear bigger. I don’t have to squeeze anymore on my seat now; I took my legs over it

and thought of taking a short nap. The nap was shorter than I thought it would be. Train

reached the station.

Between Belief and delusion

I tightened my shoelace, hung my bag on my shoulder. I came down off the train. I

thought that since it was a small station there won’t be many people living here, but I

was proved wrong when I came out of the station. It was crowded inside the train, but

here, it was chaotic as well. Both people and vehicle were moving here and there,

shouting and screeching.

The temple was another fifty kilometers from the station and one can only reach there

by road. I longed for the open space all this while during this journey, and it seems that I

still had to wait.

I thought the bus would be crowded like the train so I opt for a van. The van driver

promised me that there will just be few others with me in the van. So I paid him the

amount and sat inside the van and my bag was tied to the carrier above. The van left for

the temple, I was wondering why he didn’t take other passengers, but I didn’t had to

wait any longer. Both the doors of the van slid and few passengers entered in. Now, I

was sitting in the centre with my legs stuck together and three passengers on either

side of me. There were seven on the back seat of the van, including me.

“You told me there will just be few others” I frowned at the driver.

“Yeah, that’s right” he said casually. There was no point arguing with him, because he

won’t return my money. To be precise, I was scammed. And I had to remain in the van

to bear the consequences.

I paid him more than just rupees for the seat; I paid my personal space as well. I

couldn’t move an inch. I was feeling like a lattice in the burger, which is pressed betwixt
Between Belief and delusion

and doesn’t have its individuality. That’s about me, and my bag, it was buried beneath

the other bags. If it turns to life first thing it will do is to kill me. Above all of that the road

was bouncy. It felt like my bones were getting crushed, my hip was beating against the

seat like a mallet. And as if it wasn’t enough, it began to itch in my bottom part and the

worst part was that I couldn’t take my hands there. I was trying to rub my hip against the

seat or do such kind of motions that would relief the itching. In this difficult situation the

bouncy road proved to be a blessing in disguise, the bounces helps me adjusts a bit,

since we all lift up an inch from our seats with every bounce. My journey was like a

camel ride.

I was hoping to take photographs of the beautiful landscape alongside the road, but I

couldn’t, others won’t let me. So I kept sitting idle on my seat, with my eyes in front like

a five year old being told off by his parents. The worst part was they were all

continuously getting adjusted, not just pressing me like in cidar press, but also kneading

me like dough.

I was thinking that I was facing the real pain, but there were people who would reach up

to the temple barefoot. Some were putting themselves in yet more pain to please god,

they would lay down prostrate, making lines with their hands in that position and then

stood up and advance up to that line drawn and repeating this procedure till they reach

the temple. They would endure the rigors of the ritual without food. Now, that is some

dedication.

But one thing troubles me a lot, that whether god really wants to see us in pain to be

pleased by us? It might just be our delusion, but maybe I am not the one to decide.
Between Belief and delusion

I finally reached where the temple was. The place was in itself a small town, setup with

the temple in its centre. The economy of that place was solely depended on the

devotees who come to visit the temple. There were ‘Dhabas’ or small eateries lined up

on one side of the road. On the other side were the shops selling offering for the temple.

I could see a lot of people returning from the temple with the foot long flags fluttering in

their hands. They were special kind of flags, triangular in shape, red in color, and

decorated with the golden threads.

“Jai Mata di….” They hail as they pass by.

The van dropped me near a line of hotels. With my bag hung on my back I began to

walk in search of accommodation.

Generally in these places hotels charge a lot. They have poor facility and no distinctions

in stars, I won’t even rate them in stars. But they have a monopoly, because of so many

people that comes to visit the temple they are never in scarce of customers. Some don’t

even have license but they still work because they are in good terms with the local

mafias. To be precise they have poor facility, lots of last minute adjustments when you

arrive in your room and the beds are as hard as concrete. Fortunately, I was able to find

a room in a charitable community rest room. They are called ‘Dharamshala’. It was far

cheaper than those hotels; the service was satisfactorily better than in hotels and you

can’t ask for much at such a price. The plus point was that it was near to the temple.

Hot water was available from 3’o clock in the morning to 8’o clock in the morning. And

you should also have your own lock to be put to the door of your room, when you are

out. This was the solution for the increasing complaints about theft from inside the
Between Belief and delusion

rooms; I wasn’t carrying any lock so I went to buy it from the nearby shop. I saw it for

the first time that they give the locks on rent as well. I took it on rent because I didn’t

need it later.

The temple was at the summit of a hill, and a road leads there. I kept my bag in the

room and went to take a look at the temple. The road that leads to the temple was

covered with the saffron shed and small shops lined up on either side, right up to the

temple. They were all selling almost the same things, so the competition was natural. I

could feel more than just the devotion in the air; there was a strong odor of business.

They were selling to the worshipers the symbolic offerings for the puja. They generally

give a plate that consists of a red cloth, garlands, Joss sticks, coconut, ‘Diya’s’ (lamps

made from baked clay) to lit, fruits and flowers. One guy stood outside each shop for

getting the customers to their shop.

“Take it madam, Take it sir…….” They would say, going to everyone who passes by. I

have seen few even forcibly pulling few customers towards their shop.

One has to tell them loudly, “Go away,” and only then they move to someone else. If

you show even a little of interest to them, they won’t let you go without making you buy

something. They will even attract you with offers like, “Take a garland for just one buck,”

but when you go there you’ll find that garland is of one buck, when you buy that plate

that worth hundred bucks. But ones you go to that shop for garland, you will finish

buying the plate as well. They would try every bit of their salesman strategy to make you

buy it.
Between Belief and delusion

Then I entered the temple compound. A well marbled structure with a huge courtyard of

a checkered floor. The pillars decorated by flowers of all kind, Marigolds were the most

prominent. In one of the places there were number of red flags planted by devotees.

It was dark by then; the temple top was bathed in the silvery hue.

I was little late, so I missed the ‘Aarti’ which is performed twice a day, but I could still

obtain "Darśana" or divine audience of the deity in the sanctum sanctorum, the core of

the temple. Only think in my mind was to go in front of the deity and say “I have come

as I had promised”. So, I began to climb stairs to the inner shrine. The first thing that I

noticed right on the entrance was the notice boards and not with the salutations or

something about the temple instead they read: ‘Beware of pickpocket’, ‘Photography/

Video recording inside the temple is strictly prohibited’.

The inner shrine had a large hall for worshipers to stand in and obtain "Darśana". The

end of the hall was the heart of the temple, where the deity resides. It was swarmed in

with devotees offering prayers and salutations to the presiding deity. It was so crowded,

though it was off season.

There were two gates to the inner shrine, the entrance and the exit. The police was

commissioned to manage the crowd. They were to force the crowd out of the shrine

once they obtain "Darśana", because once the crowd gets in they refuse to come out

and this make it difficult for others to obtain "Darśana”.

Just as I entered in and went in the crowd, I felt a push, Déjà vu. Then it again began,

the crowd from both directions began to squeeze me and the push was what propelling

me ahead. I was in a queue but it was moving slower than the snail. People would
Between Belief and delusion

freeze in front of the deity when they reach there as the queue moves ahead, they won’t

move until the police would grab them and pull them out. People gives their offerings to

the ‘pujari’ (Hindu priest), one who performs ‘puja’ in the temple. But at that moment

there were just two guys in the saffron clothes instead of a ‘pujari’. They would take the

coconut from the plate and throw it in one corner on the coconut heap. They were

cracking jokes to other workers. Then I saw something which I had to include. A woman

handed one of those guys a nice red and fresh apple, it was quite bigger, looking

delicious. Both the guys smiled at each other and that guy took the apple and kept it

aside for himself. The incident brought a sudden dislike about that place, prior to that I

was waiting for my opportunity to stand in front of the deity and say as I had planned but

now I was feeling like a fool. People come here with such devotion and to those guys

this is just a joke. I looked at everyone present there, they were devoted, no doubt, but

are we not fools. We all saw things happening around, idols don’t eat apples, and we

were fools to expect that.

Right in front of the deity there was a huge box, like a piggy bank, for the devotees to

put some cash in the name of god with a note: ‘please, put the money only in the box’. It

was not mandatory to put some money in the box, but if you keep it right in front of the

deity, you are encouraging this thing. Sorry to say, but they have made it a bad

business, it was like a jukebox, insert a coin and it will play for you. Even I did nothing

different, when I saw others slipping in coins I too followed like a lamb and slipped few

coins in. May be as they say, we are god fearing people and like others I don’t want to

take a risk. Many things bothered me after that, but I didn’t even think about them. I was

feeling that as if everything was so unreal, so crafty.

Between Belief and delusion

I went back to the ‘dharamshala’, had a dinner and went back to my room. I planned to

leave the place the next day, right after the ‘Aarti’. I lay down on my bed and the

thoughts kept floating in my mind. Even I am scared writing it, Is it sensible to pray to an

idol?

I woke up next morning before dawn at about three-thirty. I had to reach the temple by

four before the ‘Aarti’ begins. The water was cool and all the sleepiness that I was

feeling jerked off. After that I went to the temple. The bulbs outside the shops were the

only source of illumination. It was still an hour or so left for the dawn to paint the night

sky with its crimson.

My mind was indulged in some unanswered questions. But I entered the temple

because of the belief that I was still left with, but most importantly because of the

promise that I have made. I could see even more people in the temple compound. All of

them were waiting for the ‘Aarti’.

I stood there among with others in the crowd, in front of the sanctum away from the

stairs. The sanctum is curtained during the ‘Aarti’ and nobody was allowed in, except

the ‘pujari’. I have heard from people that the deity shines when the curtains are put off

after the ‘Aarti’. So I was eagerly waiting for it like the others. I was more concerned

about whether this belief has some fact to it, or it was just a delusion. The temple

echoed with the sounds of bells and chanting of mantras. There were other instruments

being played as well which include a ‘Manjira’ (hand Cymbals) and ‘Nagada’ (Kettle

drum). I looked around, many eyes were closed, and lips continuously moving in

prayers. Then I noticed the rhythm that these instruments had. I followed the beating of

the ‘Nagada’ and I felt like closing my eyes. Initially it was beating fast and short. I felt
Between Belief and delusion

like getting tuned with it. It was some resonant force that might have matched with my

frequency. I was by now flowing with that rhythm, for a moment I forgot where I was.

Then there was a change in the rhythm ‘Nagada’ began to beat slowly. Along with that

even my thought process slowed down, it became more relaxed. I began to feel really

light.

It brought me in the state to think.

Figuratively speaking it felt like a celestial announcement from sky that struck right into

my soul.

We made temples so that we can meet god, like a source of energy, like a well from

which we all can fill our buckets. Only ‘pujari’s’ are allowed in during ‘Aarti’, did god

made this rule? Did he ask us to slip coins in the boxes? Does he need all that? Or

maybe we made all those rules, so that we can keep god on our side. Maybe that’s why

‘pujari’s’ don’t allow others in. Maybe that’s why we slip coins. We should understand

that god does not take side. His power is like an orb, with no side and surrounds every

one of us.

Then again the drum beats become faster and shorter followed by a sound of a

‘Shankha’ (conch shell) I opened my eyes. All eyes were peering towards the curtain.

The curtains were parted.

“Jai Mata di……” all the devotees cried in a single tone, the temple courtyard echoed.

“Did you see that?” I heard somebody. He was talking about the deity.

Whether I saw the deity shine?

I won’t tell you, because it won’t change anything. Believes doesn’t change.
Between Belief and delusion

All I can tell you is that I went back home after that. I was in a state of ultimate felicity

during my return journey. Crowd was no more chaotic, space was no more an issue,

even though everything remained same.

Now when somebody asks me a question: Do I believe in god?

This question is question to the questioner himself; the answer to this question doesn’t

change anything. We are humans, we fear loneliness, and god gives us hope that we

are not alone. Where to find him? Think about good and bad. Even if nobody is

watching, we think twice before doing anything wrong. There is a voice from inside that

stops us. This is an innate capability.

So, Where to find him?

Why to find him?

He exists in all of us.

I went to the temple to fulfill my promise to god and in return he filled me with answers.

And yes, until we are fully confident on what we believe, they can always be proved

nothing but just a delusion.