A peacock, a drone and a whole lot of people
July 16, 2014
Guru Purnima. The celebration of the first yogi. Despite the holiday, I still taught two classes. As the students and I quietly explored mythology and revolution, little did I know that thousands of people were gathering at the temple at the other side of the campus. The day meandered on, a little rain and a little relaxation, until 5:15 when the entire school came together at the small gate that defined the school from the temple area. We moved en masse into a big field and then the reality started to reveal itself. Crowds of people milling about, being herded into fenced-in areas covered with black plastic dotted with mud and small puddles. A large LCD screen stood at the front, as well as video/lighting towers and an enormous thatched cave housing the soon to be revealed statue in celebration of this day.
Men and women were separated. I followed the boys on a slippery track behind the thatched cave. We wiggled our way through hundreds of men trying to get good ‘seats.’ Fortunately, a large chunk of those were reserved for the school. However, I was wearing my ‘chappels’ and was reminded that I couldn’t enter the black plastic arena with them on. A colleague volunteered to ‘hide’ them somewhere safe and disappeared through the crowd. Upon his return, he explained where they were, in case we didn’t find each other again. We sat between puddles, although many men simply plunked down despite the muddy waters, and waited.
A long introduction followed, in Tamil. I understood only ‘cell phones,’ which was repeated several times. An English translation followed. Simply, ‘Please turn off your cell phones.’ Music began. The local monks played and chanted. On a driveway just above the central area, the guru entered in a black SUV, his movement to the podium covered by a video crane, a swami videotaping from a roof nearby and a bevy of roving videographers. Just as he ascended the podium, a peacock flew overhead, yelping. A hush fell over the crowd. A group of male dancers take to a small stage and initiate the evening with a fire dance. As they stamp about the stage, swinging fire pots, a video drone swoops overhead, buzzing like a mosquito that is in love with your ear. It’s hard to not to look at the video screen dominating the view, but with the dancers right there, why watch the video? The peacock yelps in the tree, the drone screams overhead, the dancers pound the stage and the dark smoke of the flames permeate the air.
And then the guru began to chant. Thousands of voices join him. A couple of men in front of me begin an arhythmic writhing, to the surprise of a few boys sitting nearby. He continues, slowly making his way to thatched cave. Monks squat, holding tight to a handful of ropes holding up an immense curtain that blocks our view of the statue. Then it drops. A collective gasp and applause. A 40-50 foot bust of Shiva, the first yogi, in a peaceful meditative attitude, his eyes slightly open as if aware and not aware of the goings on around him.
The guru takes to the podium and delivers a small speech that keeps the people enthralled. As he talks about the distractions of life and the need to find yourself within, clumps of rain race down from the mountain to tickle us in short spurts of time.
As he finishes his talk, people raise their hands pressed together. The crowd starts to surge this way and that, rivers of people making their way to the guru, the statue, food available somewhere out of sight and into little cliques to assumably discuss the evening. I have a more mundane desire. Find my shoes. But my friend is gone and my shoes are housed near the guru’s SUV, which is well protected. The guru chants on. People flow past the statue and I wait in the mud for a pair of sandals.
It’s easy to tell when the guru drives away, as the people tightly pack the roadway. Upon retrieving my sandals, I wander about watching the thousands of devotees eating, talking, visiting the temple and the grounds.
A technologically spiritual evening of mythic symbols and sandals.