This morning, as is my habit I was out there, cycling a few kilometers into the town, near the market where the few ancient temples are present, I have always been a great fan of the spires of the churches all my life, attribute it to the great hymns which we sang and the vistas of ours surroundings all pointing towards a different religion than the one in which we were born..
The stories of the mythology and the ancient customs and the lifestyle of the people in the plains and the many discoveries and visions of related thoughts that stem from the intense meditations at times (ahem) in line with the quest of our journey, though daunted perhaps at times because of the confluence of influences. It is staggering and not without us seeing parallels.
We having been in Christian schools and the learnings stemming from that faith is of a different order, all nurtures us to follow certain thought processes, thanks to the many wonderful magnificence of the discovery with which we can compartmentalise, if not isolate the lines between these various religions like they do in various places and landscape, the kingdom of the heaven and the heart all confuse one at times like one JW who had cornered me one early morning as I was returning home from a journey.
And yet the reality of all this is that, as the customs and the buildings itselfs stands to provide us with the glimpse of the mindset of the ye olde who had built them, my recent readings had unravelled the mysterious places, the awe one feels is in part the feeling of a closeness with the elements that the places bring together.
I have had the opportunity to be a part of the various rituals in many temples in a few states and have greatly appreciated the candour with which the priests refuse monetary contributions. This morning though it was something of a blackmail from one of the priest here. They probably need to see some cash, as offerings in line with their ego. It made my day thinking of all all the wasteful efforts of the millions who try and make these places richer and the great amount of life spend in building all this, only to be cut out of their own places of worship for not having money in the end. The mystical aspects of this is a different story, from the personal experience.
From my vantage, the posturing looks vain.
And yet, one sometimes feels harassed when one knows of the true purpose of these temples and sanctuaries.
I had recently heard about the great inspiration some of the Zen temples had provided to some creative people. The natural places gives one a tremendous satisfaction to orient oneself at times of need. And I have had the pleasure of being up in the hills of the cavernous and bare temples, majestically located where the sparseness of living presents one with the glimpse of the divine and a discovery of newness.
The contrast with that is abysmal, here. Should we set up a new temple?