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| Sri Chamrajeshwara Temple Image Credit: Wikimedia Commons/Tamilyomen |
Long long ago, roughly about a decade and half back, I used to make an annual trip with my uncle to assist with his auditing work. My work was to cross check various calculations and other data verifications, data entry etc. and my incentive was visiting a new place each year. This was much before my peruse of our history and heritage and hence the conspicuous absence of any image in this write up.
So what is this article doing in this blog? As I sat bundled up in my jacket, staring at the pretty determined rain outside my window that was going strong since morning, I was reminded of one of my most memorable visits to a temple during one such auditing trip. With the lockdown having pretty much turned spotted owlets into sitting ducks, I felt it may be a good idea to share this eventful visit with you.
That fine April, the auditing was in a small village called Venkatarayanachatra near Chamrajanagar. Our work for the day was done early. Those days phones were yet to be prefixed with the word 'smart', so guided entirely by fellow human beings we decided to visit Sri Chamarajeshwara Temple in the heart of the town.
Night was swiftly engulfing the dusk as the last rays of the sun bid us goodbye to illuminate another part of the world. Temperature had turned from sticky hot to bearable warm when we reached the comparatively young temple. It was just around 200 years old. Much younger to the other temples I've been visiting lately that have fallen in the 800 to 900 years old range.
The temple was built in 1826 by Mummadi Krishnaraja Wadiyar, a Maharaja of Mysore state, in the memory of his father Chamaraja Wadiyar, who was born here in 1774. The town which was earlier known as Arikutara was renamed as Chamarajanagar.
I'll not be going too much into the details of the temple, since this article is more on the experience rather than what detail I can recollect from a decade and half old memory.
The silhouetted 'gopura' greeted us as few devotees were venturing in and out of the temple. It was fairly empty. The spacious courtyard dimmed the traffic noise effectively. This was replaced by the rhythmic bells and the mantras as the priest ensured every devotee got their share of the blessings.
A few brief minutes later we were ready to head back. But the divine power had other plans and decided to paint the town dark with a power cut. As newcomers to the town and debatable acquaintance with the ups, downs and the potholes on the street, it was inevitable but to wait in the temple till lights were back.
That's when I had one of my most profound temple memories that is so deeply ingrained that even now it feels like it was yesterday.
The waxing moon, half way on its journey came to the rescue. As the moonlight broke gently through the cocoon of darkness that swathed all around, shapes emerged once again before my eyes and I found a pillar to sit next to and lean back on. The sun soaked pillars were still holding on to a piece of the day, gently sending a river of warmth up my spine.
The tiny twinkling temple lamps flickered around shedding their golden glow on the deities, teasingly reminding me that they were the original lights. A sudden silence descended as the local people, who knew their way well around even in the low light, started to leave for their homes. The insects as if on cue started to trill just a wee bit louder. A couple of resident peacocks also seemed to sense the serenity and the divinity of the moment, mixing their calls with other sounds of nature. One of them got so carried away that to my utter delight, he opened his feathers and started dancing. With the generous courtyard as his stage and the spotlight of moon and me as one of the prime spectators, it was an incredible show. The peacock and me were both in a trance. The moonlight bounced off its graceful movements. The dance ended as spontaneously as it had started and he tucked his feathers to saunter away around the temple. The mantras and the ringing of the bells continued, but ever so softly.
I closed my eyes and almost hoped the power would not be restored anytime soon. The immeasurable tranquility of that hour remains with me till this day. It was the divine's way of connecting me with the raw energy of the temple that could not have been better experienced otherwise.
Of course once the power was restored, everything was back to normal. The experience of certain adversities coming with their own special bundle of blessings was not lost on me however. I've not had an opportunity to visit the Chamarajeshwara Temple again, but all I need to do is close my eyes and that divine evening is as clear as a day before me.
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