Home - A Sacred Sanctuary Takes on an Added Meaning in a Hindu Family

A while back I wrote an article on role of temples, which becomes even more magnified for the Indian-Americans thousands of miles away from their home country.

Today I want to share another aspect of worship in Hinduism. While the Hindus visit the temple often for various occasions or as they desire, worship of their gods is not limited to temple visits but is an integral part of their lives. So a place of worship or shrine in a Hindu home is a natural outgrowth and a almost a must since Hindus have gods which address almost every aspect of their lives. Now remember these Gods are representing the One Universal spirit. It is understood that God pervades the images during prayer and ritual. Anyway that is a concept too complex and philosophical to address here so let me just share the practical aspects of my religion.



In many Indian homes, guests have to take off their shoes at the entrance especially if the house has makeshift shrines and religious images and sacred items spread through out the home. This is the entrance of a Hindu's home. Note that the family pictures show three generations. That is a typical family set-up

Typically no Hindu home is complete without a shrine or sanctuary dedicated solely for prayer, meditation and just quiet contemplation. Some devout Hindus will dedicate a whole prayer room with a proper shrine, others will use a part of their closet space or even a set of shelves in a room. Respect for the divine is so strong that no one can walk in without a shower and definitely not with shoes because shoes are just not allowed in a sacred area as it is believed that they are dirty and unsanitary and thus disrespectful. The bottom-line is that no Hindu home is truly complete without a sacred place to place the Gods and conduct prayer to spread God's blessings in the abode.



Pictures showing the sacred Om on the entrance to the prayer room which consists of a beautiful handmade shrine imported from India and other prayer items.

Below is a simpler shrine created in a linen closet that has been emptied out and decorated equally lovingly with idols and images.




Just as eating dinner together is consider essential for family bonding here, praying or doing Puja (Hindi word for prayer) as a family is considered critical especially during significant occasions and festivals. I recall growing up how my parents refused to indulge their seven kids with lavish birthday parties, but would rather conduct a family prayer, followed by sharing of sanctified Indian sweets and candy with money being kept aside for charity along with a token birthday gift for the birthday child. None of today's extravaganza that borders on vulgar display was part of our family customs. No one left the house daily without going to the family shrine and asking for blessings for the day and dinner could only be served after a family prayer that my mother led and we followed. I still cringe at my brothers' and father's tuneless singing but no matter, we all had to join in.
This is a picture of my family growing up. It shows one of my brothers and my nieces and nephew with my mother leading the prayer along with my two sisters-in-law. Your truly is sitting in the red top. Carpets were rolled up and a makeshift shrine created on the floor and the family squatted Indian style to pray together. Years have rolled so fast. As a way of proud introduction and I won't apologize because each really earned their laurels through many life's tribulations but hung on due to the power of prayer, the little girl in glasses is a doctor now completing advanced studies, her sister in her mom's lap is an MBA, both in New Delhi,the little boy today is an executive in New Zealand and his father, my brother shown here is head of an R&D in a dairy company also in New Zealand and of course, I am here. Who dreamed that we would be scattered on three continents eventually, but the ties that bind us from the earlier days are still very strong and in no small measure due to our spiritual beliefs where family plays a pivotal role.

While my son has been born here, I have attempted to teach him some of our sacred sanskrit mantras that he has learned to chant with me. Well sort of. I am so grateful that he accompanies me and is in touch with his religious roots, that I am even able to suppress an almost hysterical desire to chuckle each time I hear him distorting sanskrit with his complete American accent. I just swallow hard and ask God for divine forgiveness for these moments of levity! After all prayer is serious busines! As I grow older, family traditions are resurfacing daily and increasingly and consciously as I try to give my son a sense of belonging because it is easy for many first-generation Indians to get caught between two such different cultures, but I digress...
Here my son is bidding goodbye to his dog after having done his prayers with me before leaving for his long drive to UVA. And for protection, he has the sacred ash from the fire we burn in our pooja to honor our Gods. Right from his childhood, I have continued the tradition of saying a prayer before heading out of the house.

In all seriousness, despite all my Westernization and analytical mind to the point of being annoyingly argumentative about rationale behind day to day things (ask my friends and family), there is a part of me that has a undying faith in my core religion alongwith its rich rituals and mythology where I am happy to abandon my sense of reasoning and instead submit to the power of the symbolic Universal Force, unquestioningly. Somehow I don't think this is unique to me...

Anyway, it is finally fun to rejoin Candid Carrie's Friday Fiesta after a long hiatus. Happy Friday to all. Aren't these short work weeks great!

DC in its Inaugral Splendour - Before the Millions Descend

There has been a lot of activity and excitement in DC since the past few weeks. In my more than two decades here in US, I have witnessed the inaugration activities for Presidents Reagan, George Bush (Sr), Bill Clinton and the incumbent President,but never have I seen such intensity in the air as in the case of our 44th President-elect Obama. It is truly unprecedented!

The pride, the excitement, the hopefulness -just the pure joy and and euphoria are undoubtedly palpable coupled with anxiety and tension evident from the high security preparations and constant media updates. Basically the nation's capital is just pulsating with high emotions and I have been a part of this feeling since the elections because I work in downtown DC right on Pennsylvania Ave,a few blocks from the White House and a few blocks from the US Capitol, right on the Presedential parade route.

Such is human ingenuity when motivated by financial gain that many DC residents are letting out their homes for out-of-town visitors at exhorbitant rates per night. This is all novel for me as I cannot imagine letting out my home to strangers, but then that is me...

As expected, the nearby businesses are holding many celebatory parade-watching receptions and I was invited to a couple. But being the wimp that I am, I have opted to stay home and be a part of history from the comfort of my couch with a cup of tea and my basset. I am paranoid about huge crowds with the potential to morph into mobs. I guess, I have fallen prey to the media hype about all the diversions and blockages etc etc.

Anyway here are pictures thanks to two of my co-workers who braved the 20 degree or less weather to capture the flavor of DC in all its glory as it prepares for the momentous occasion. The pictures are in no particular order but will just provide personal insights about the beauty of this city so full of life, diversity, culture and history...

Our beautiful office building facing Pennsylvania Avenue




Pictures of Presidential booth
US Capitol from a closer view
Pennsylvania Ave near the Capitol-parade route

Another co-worker braving 20 degrees to get the real feel.
One of our office building entrances.
The National Archives across our office building.
The Newseum building a couple of blocks from our building

The building on the right is my office and the close up is the side facing Pennsylvania Avenue.
Pennsylvania Avenue leading to the White House

White House to the extent it can be seen from close quarters.
The Capitol
My co-worker who went in 20 degrees to take these pictures.

Well these are certainly a necessity







Above the excitement and thrill of the fabulous concert on the DC Mall

Devotion to Obama cannot be doubted in the case of this gentlemen at the Metro...
Signs and welcome banners like this are visible all over the city.

Welcome Mr. President!

And now from the mouth of a babe -er I mean a Modernite!

The last few posts that I have posted have been a medley of cherished memories of my years as a high school teacher in New Delhi leading to lifelong friendship with a colleague who is still teaching back home in the same school, Modern School. Malini as most of you have come to know through this blog has been here on a Fulbright Fellowship. The following is actually a comment written by one of her former students from Delhi who visited this blog at her suggestion. However his comment is so detailed and beautifully written that the teacher in me (once a teacher always a teacher!) felt, itdeserved its own post.

As for me, I have been incommunicado for a number of reasons. I have not only run out of steam for a bit, I have been very busy on many fronts, including spending all my free time with my son who was here for the Holidays and with my friend on Skype who leaves now for Delhi in about a week. Her six month tenure ends on January 22 and she flies back the next day amidst heartfelt promises to continue our daily tradition of eating, drinking and making merry on Skype. Needless to say, we are "hanging out" even more on skype and have even pulled in other friends both here and in India into our conversations through conference calls! What incredible technology!!!!

Her unbridled excitement at being united with her family and students has undoubtedly affected me and for the first time in many years, I truly feel homesick even though I barely have any immediate family left in Delhi. But as is the story of most immigrants, once I reach Delhi and have been there a few weeks, I start yearning for my home in US. So in reality, we are always caught between two worlds or put another way, will always have two homes. If that makes sense?

GNS the author of the following essay is a Modernite as students from Modern are called. And with the following post, you now have perspective from a student from India now a freshman in US.

In the August of 2009, if you had the fortune or, in some exceptional cases, if a bunch of rambunctious Modernites were in your vicinity, the misfortune, of passing through the corridors of the school, you would have certainly come across an overly excited child declaring emphatically "Mrs. Khatri will be leaving for the US in a few weeks!" Indeed, the incumbent Chair of the English Department is one of the most respected, popular and, if I daresay, influential teachers in school. She left for the US in August 2009 on a prestigious Fulbright “academic deployment” to a high-school in Port Townsend (Seattle, USA).

I too left India in August 2009 to begin my undergraduate academic career at Duke University (USA). I spent the better part of my first semester trying to find my bearings – figuring out how to get food into my stomach, how to perform the excruciatingly irksome task called “laundry”, how to commute on campus, and how to manage a hectic schedule of classes that dealt with topics ranging from the Socratic Elenchus to industrial microeconomics.

To my consternation, I also felt extremely homesick. I? Someone who used to make only modest efforts to conceal his impudicity when people praised his precocious maturity (see!) was today succumbing to a simple memory of home. I wondered what was wrong with my attitude. Anyway, I ultimately settled down and begin enjoying the culture and myriad facilities of the magnificent campus on which I stay.

In late October, I began corresponding, through an invention that constitutes the core of contemporary society’s consciousness (yes, the Internet and the e-mail), with a teacher who, I had shamefully enough forgotten, was only a 3 hour flight away from me – yes, I would often find Mrs. Khatri online on Google Talk and we would casually begin discussing life in the US. I must admit that I derived a vicarious psychological satisfaction from knowing that Mrs. Khatri, too, had been tormented by homesickness and the typical culture shock that strikes foreigners. I realized that my “sporadic and sudden longings” for home were not only a natural part of a mature adult’s behavioral patterns, but were also, at least for me, indicative of the extent to which I appreciated my roots.

Mrs. Khatri soon told me that a former member of Modern School’s faculty (Ms. Raksha Bhandari), who also happened to be a dear friend of hers, was living in Washington DC and would love to hear from me. Initially I thought that she was merely making a friendly offer of providing a source of social support and did not actually want me to exploit this offer! After all, no one in this busy country would want to spend time listening to ramblings of a college student.

Then one evening, Mrs. Khatri, after appearing, the way the pilgrim arrives at the door of the Saint, “online” on Google Talk at exactly 6 pm, told me that Ms. Bhandari had a blog – an interesting collection of historical tales, anecdotes and personal memories.

I clicked on the link to the blog and waited for the Internet to churn its cyber-magic. A page appeared on my screen. I sat dumbstruck. Before me was the tale of two girls – two girls who grew into women together and today have grown into models of uprightness and resilience. Until I saw this blog, I was unaware of the dynamic and emotionally complex historicity of Mrs. Khatri’s friendship with Ms. Bhandari. The two had been each others’ pillars of support in trying times, each others’ comic reliefs in trying times and each others’ friends at all times. On an alternating basis, they put each other into predicaments and laughed when the one who was the object of the vignette sighed with frustration; they stood by each other when they were down in the doldrums.

It is strange what one can learn from unexpected encounters and experiences, and how one’s problems seem but trivial if one juxtaposes them to an appropriately comparable set of problems. I, personally, have not, from this tale of friendship, learnt the value of friendship – rather, I have learnt the value of virtues such as resilience, tenacity and valor.

All I wish to say in conclusion is that any friendship that can, in this age of rampant egocentrism and strategically measured cooperation, hold together two people who, for each other, are willing to make selfless sacrifices, is a friendship that deserves a New Year’s Eve toast of Cognac. Kudos!

PS: “Selfless sacrifices” is not a term containing an error of redundancy, Mrs. Khatri. We today have a phenomenon called ‘selfish altruism’