Mobile Temples of Mind and Body
In Vedic times, there were no temples as we know them today. Temples were constructed when kingdoms began to flourish. Anand Coomaraswamy observes that the rise of the temple represents the softening of the practice of yagya or sacrifice into puja. Yagya is engaging in action, free of narrow, selfish motives. The scriptures list five forms of yagya for the householder: worship of God or deva yagya; adoration of the Enlightened or rishi yagya; service of parents and ancestors or pitru yagya; social service or nara yagya; and service of other creatures or bhoota yagya. Yagya characterises a person's approach to life. It adds value to all actions done in the course of everyday life. It provides a perspective to decide between right and wrong action. Puja, on the other hand, can often get reduced to a timebound ritual in a person's daily engagements diary. Puja, instead of serving as a medium to lift us above narrow, selfish levels, is increasingly being used for fulfilment of mundane ends i life. While puja is possible through a proxy (the pujari); yagya requires direct, personal involvement. The temple-the practice of 'fixing' God in a permanent building-was never entirely endorsed by thinkers. Questions have been raised in this regard down the years. Basavanna, the eleventh century Kannada poet who began the Veerasaiva movement, wrote an interesting poem or vachana on this subject: "The rich/ shall nake temples for Siva,/ What shall I,/ a poor man,/ do?/ My legs are pillars,/the body the shrine,/the head a cupola/ of gold./ Listen, O kudala-sangama-deva/ things standing shall fall,/ but the moving ever shall stay." AK Ramanujan observed that Hindu temples are modelled after the human body: Temples have padas or legs; hasta or side walls; shikhara or head; and garbha griha or wombhouse. The 'fixed' temple is in opposition to the 'mobile body; the transient building contrasts with the abiding Self; and, most importantly, the making of a temple is opposed to the being of a temple. A constructed temple is only a symbol of the original, the body. Is it wise then to chase the symbol, when you have the original? Is it wise then to make something, if you can be it? "Remember, my son, that this body is the temple of the living God," exhorts the protagonist in the play, The Bishop's Candlesticks. The end of life, according to Adi Shankaracharya, is in the realisation of the God Within or nija-hrdayasthamdevam. Kabir compares the irony of a man mounting a search for God in temples and other places to the musk-bearing deer. Ignorant of the treasure it bears within, it exhausts itself searching o the forests for the source of the alluring fragrance. "Like oil in oilseeds," and "Like fire in the glow worm" are other similes used by poets to drive home the fact that God is inherent in man. Hindi poet Mahadevi Varma speaks in the same vein as Basavanna when she asks her ritual-obsessed folk: Kya pujan, kya archan, re? What worth is this worship, wherefore all this offering? She says: "My little life is a beautiful temple of the Infinite Lord. My every breath is an obeisance to Him. Tears gush down to wash His feet. The thrill I feel is the sanctified rice or akshat. My sweet suffering is sandal-paste. My love-filled mind is an ever-glowing lamp. My eyes blossom like a blooming lotus. My vital-breath, like the incense-smoke, rises in reverence for Him. Dear Lord, O dear' chant my lips, and the eyelids dance in tune."
DISCLAIMER:
The views expressed in the Article above are KS Ram views and kashmiribhatta.in is not in any way responsible for the opinions expressed in the above article. The article belongs to its respective owner or owners and this site does not claim any right over it.
Courtesy: KS Ram Speaking Tree,Times of India
Mobile Temples of Mind and Body
In Vedic times, there were no temples as we know them today. Temples were constructed when kingdoms began to flourish. Anand Coomaraswamy observes that the rise of the temple represents the softening of the practice of yagya or sacrifice into puja. Yagya is engaging in action, free of narrow, selfish motives. The scriptures list five forms of yagya for the householder: worship of God or deva yagya; adoration of the Enlightened or rishi yagya; service of parents and ancestors or pitru yagya; social service or nara yagya; and service of other creatures or bhoota yagya. Yagya characterises a person's approach to life. It adds value to all actions done in the course of everyday life. It provides a perspective to decide between right and wrong action. Puja, on the other hand, can often get reduced to a timebound ritual in a person's daily engagements diary. Puja, instead of serving as a medium to lift us above narrow, selfish levels, is increasingly being used for fulfilment of mundane ends i life. While puja is possible through a proxy (the pujari); yagya requires direct, personal involvement. The temple-the practice of 'fixing' God in a permanent building-was never entirely endorsed by thinkers. Questions have been raised in this regard down the years. Basavanna, the eleventh century Kannada poet who began the Veerasaiva movement, wrote an interesting poem or vachana on this subject: "The rich/ shall nake temples for Siva,/ What shall I,/ a poor man,/ do?/ My legs are pillars,/the body the shrine,/the head a cupola/ of gold./ Listen, O kudala-sangama-deva/ things standing shall fall,/ but the moving ever shall stay." AK Ramanujan observed that Hindu temples are modelled after the human body: Temples have padas or legs; hasta or side walls; shikhara or head; and garbha griha or wombhouse. The 'fixed' temple is in opposition to the 'mobile body; the transient building contrasts with the abiding Self; and, most importantly, the making of a temple is opposed to the being of a temple. A constructed temple is only a symbol of the original, the body. Is it wise then to chase the symbol, when you have the original? Is it wise then to make something, if you can be it? "Remember, my son, that this body is the temple of the living God," exhorts the protagonist in the play, The Bishop's Candlesticks. The end of life, according to Adi Shankaracharya, is in the realisation of the God Within or nija-hrdayasthamdevam. Kabir compares the irony of a man mounting a search for God in temples and other places to the musk-bearing deer. Ignorant of the treasure it bears within, it exhausts itself searching o the forests for the source of the alluring fragrance. "Like oil in oilseeds," and "Like fire in the glow worm" are other similes used by poets to drive home the fact that God is inherent in man. Hindi poet Mahadevi Varma speaks in the same vein as Basavanna when she asks her ritual-obsessed folk: Kya pujan, kya archan, re? What worth is this worship, wherefore all this offering? She says: "My little life is a beautiful temple of the Infinite Lord. My every breath is an obeisance to Him. Tears gush down to wash His feet. The thrill I feel is the sanctified rice or akshat. My sweet suffering is sandal-paste. My love-filled mind is an ever-glowing lamp. My eyes blossom like a blooming lotus. My vital-breath, like the incense-smoke, rises in reverence for Him. Dear Lord, O dear' chant my lips, and the eyelids dance in tune."
DISCLAIMER:
The views expressed in the Article above are KS Ram views and kashmiribhatta.in is not in any way responsible for the opinions expressed in the above article. The article belongs to its respective owner or owners and this site does not claim any right over it.
Courtesy: KS Ram Speaking Tree,Times of India