Faiths and Devotion

-



Three days following the vibrant celebration of Shivaratri, Pashupati continued to pulsate with life, an eternal heartbeat of devotion and fervour. Amidst the naked Babas smeared in the sacred ashes of firewood, there existed a palpable sense of transition, a knowing that their time within these hallowed grounds was drawing to a close. For me, Pashupati holds an allure, beckoning with its potent blend of hope and positivity, an atmosphere thick with the essence of faith that seeps into the soul.


Yet, amidst the devotion,  you know what I love the most? People. I'm all about observing them. Everyone's like the main character in their movie, you feel me? Each person's got their own unique story, and I lowkey wish I could be a tiny part of all of them. It's wild to see how devoted people are to a God whose existence ain't even confirmed. But it's in their eyes, man, that hope? It's everything.


There's this energy, this connection, as if we're all in it together, sharing our hopes and dreams. And the best part. Observing people. It's like a whole other world out there. From the devout praying fervently to the curious tourists snapping pics, there's so much going on, so many stories waiting to be told.   


Entering through the gates, it is as if I am stepping into a realm anew, every corner brimming with wonder and possibility. The Krishna Mandir, nestled within these sacred precincts, holds a special allure for me, its ancient stones whispering tales of devotion through the ages. And despite the murky waters of the Bagmati River, tainted by the detritus of human existence, I find solace upon its banks, lost in contemplation amidst the chaos of life. But the sight of bodies awaiting cremation stirred a deep discomfort within me.


As I walked among the ash-covered Babas, I couldn't shake off a feeling of disappointment. Many seemed more interested in money than in true devotion. One Baba even smeared tika on me without asking, and then demanded payment. But instead of anger, I felt a kind of resignation to the irony of it all.


I must have appeared clueless among the bustling crowd. a kind police officer guided me to stand in line, while a temple priest, mistaking me for a lost soul, draped a shawl adorned with the image of Mahadev around my shoulders. Despite my indifference towards religion and the existence of God, being near the temple brings a sense of peace. It's a temporary escape from the trials of life, a moment to reconnect with my inner self and the earth beneath my feet. Each visit to this sacred place feels like a spiritual evolution, a chance to delve deeper into the mysteries of existence.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Ghosts Of November

-
Image
I want to disappear in the hills, where land stretches endlessly beneath the sky, slopes emerging and falling like silent waves. I want to wrap my arms around the pines and cypress trees, hoping they’ll hold me close. I’d sit atop that hill and watch the sunrise in a burst of hope and set in a soft goodbye. I'd start drinking chilled beer right at 5 am. Don't ask me why at 5. There is a thrill to it, you see, the taste of the forbidden which makes life alive. I want to live wild and free. But what does freedom look like? A life in which I am only responsible for myself? Maybe I would spend a night all alone in the wilderness. Not because I am fearless, but because I want to explore the wilderness and possess it. The forest calls to me; its solitude is a kind of freedom. “I know I might sound insane to you,” I said, half smiling. “Yes, you do,” she replied with a soft laugh. “But you don’t need mountains, Sahil. You need a ward in a mental asylum.” She laughed again an...
Read more

The silent Scream

-
Image
 I was in one of my lectures, trying my best to focus on what the professor was saying, but nothing was sinking into my head. At that moment, I felt a rush of unease in my body. My chest tightened, my heart started racing, and a strange dizziness began to overtake me. It was getting difficult to see; it felt like my eyes were covered by a fog. I couldn’t stand being in the lecture hall anymore. In a flash, I was curled up with my knees to my chest, crying on the floor. I don’t know how I managed to get to my room. I couldn’t breathe and thought I wouldn’t make it to tomorrow. I lay on the floor for what felt like an eternity until I mustered the courage to move but I still couldn't understand why this was happening to me. I felt paralyzed, like everything seemed to shut down in front of my eyes. Suddenly, the room began to spin. My breath came in shallow gasps, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get enough air. My heart pounded, my hands tingled, and a suffocating dread flo...
Read more

Canvas of emotions

-
Image
Every time you like someone, it arrives with the freshness of a morning dew, it carries a sense of newness and spark of hope that this might be different this time.  There is a movie called, " kabir Singh. " I would like to believe you guys have watched it. There is this line in that movie that's stuck with me: I like the way you breathe. It's strange and embarrassing to admit that I found comfort in rhythm of his breath. We often slept on the phone together, and in quite of night his breathing become reminder that someone is there, a presence that brought me solace. I always knew our paths don't align. Our dreams and desires do not lead to future together. But still I wanted a little more time with him. Though our paths have separated for the best I still wanna hold on to the memory of him as something meaningful and sweet.  I always say he is my bittersweet experience. Today, I wanna set aside the criticisms and shortcomings. Today, I want to focus on my feeling...
Read more