Jagannath Temple: reflections

In these pictures are two groups of children: a class of seventh graders in a Hyderabadi private school, and a some young worshippers at a local temple. The first group had just finished writing letters to American counterparts in my former school, and were eager to be present in a photo that their interlocutors would see. The second were curious about my colleague and I, and asked questions about life in the States, but they also wanted us to know that they felt reverent towards the images represented on the temple grounds. To that end, they posed in front of a very androgynous-looking god, possibly Rama, or one of his myriad avatars...I am not sure. These young people all seem to accept female-male equality, and in fact, the students insisted on it. They stated that discrimination against women currently exists only in the north of India. In the limited social contexts that we were exposed to during our stay (schools, hotel life, the family of our hostess at Jubilee Hills public School, which despite is name, is actually what we would consider a private school in this country) this statement appeared to be verified. The same could not be said for caste discrimination, which was quite evident in the school hierarchy. From the pictures, it is easy to see how school uniforms can be an equalizer in terms of outward appearance: the crisp, pressed look of the students contrasts with the clean but slightly hand-me-down look of the clothes the kids at the temple were wearing. That said, there is a wariness, despite the friendly manner of those children, especially in their eyes, and a knowingness that street children around the world have in common: they have seen more than their share of suffering and sadness. What impresses me is their remarkable optimism and curiosity. The temple itself is a tribute to the multi-layered, colorful, profound nature of spiritual life in India.

Seventh grade students at JHPS

Group of children at Puri Jagannath Temple, Hyderabad

 

An interesting practice at this temple we discovered by accident. We saw a giant, gold-colored scale, and wondered about tis purpose. Then we saw a priest, placing a small girl on one of the scales. As we approached, we took a picture without thinking, and the parents of the little girl approached us. Quite rightly, the father asked us to email him any pictures we had taken of his daughter. I agreed, and asked him why the little girl was being weighed. He told me it was her second birthday, and that the custom is to donate the girl's weight in a given commodity to the temple. These parents were donating milk.