A River Runs Through It
There is a sketch
that’s etched in my mind. It’s also reflected in the many narratives of India –
in novels, essays, Hollywood movies depicting an Indian scene [before Slumdog
Millionaire, I must admit]. There is a shrine, often large, sometimes smaller –
shaded by a tree - by the bank of a river, a lake, a reservoir. This could well
be the retirement vision of peace and calm for many – etched deeper by a constant
exposure to such a place in life, or through art.
I first came
face to face with such a place, decades ago, in the shadow of a family tragedy
in a small dusty town called Lalitpur. There had been a loss in the family and
many rituals involved a river close by. There was a small temple built in the
shadow of a large peepul. The
reservoir channeled water into two small shallow pools where I swam with my
cousins. A tragedy temporarily pushed back for a while as we jumped around in
those pools on hot summer afternoons. A naughty uncle asked a bearded, mat lock
haired ‘swami’ who inhabited a shack behind the small temple whether he had
packets of happiness to share – Bam
Bhole! We were excited by an un-understood thrill. Then we dispersed back
to our homes, our schools.
I visited again
a place like this, recently. On a business trip to Mysore we stopped briefly at
Nimishamba Temple. If that temple from
Lalitpur could have grown over 30 years this is possibly what it would have
looked like. The temple, more robust and large, promising great strength and
larger boons, massive trees providing a verdant canopy by the river Cauvery. Just
behind Tipu Sultan’s palace at Srirangapatna – temple and palace, two powerful
witnesses to an infinite history of dotted lines connecting prayers and wars.
The monsoons
had been good and the river was replete, not a weak trickle as rivers can be
sometimes and not a dangerous swell, just a calm full flow. Coracle boats
bobbed gently in the water as a direct challenge to the very principles of
buoyancy. Goddess Nimishamba is considered an incarnation of Goddess Parvathi
and is said to have the powers to make wishes come true in an instant [Nimish actually means a minute in the
local language]. Pilgrims bathed at the steps leading down to the river. It was
early morning, the breeze was cool and the crowds were very light that day. The
hawkers selling flowers and lemons as offerings to the Goddess outnumbered the
pilgrims three to one. Villagers sipped tea and thought about their dreams and
wishes against a backdrop where every second took a moment longer to pass.
There may be
something about calm shrines by flowing rivers that refresh parts that other
places can never reach.
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