We are in Guwahati on Shiva Ratri–the night of Shiva. The Lord of Yogis aspect of Shiva is celebrated on this night; traditionally, all night in a raucous manner, as Shiva is among many other things, the Lord of ganas–a ragtag assortment of odd-ball beings, ascetics, lovers of ganja (marijuana), and ghouls.
Hoping to avoid the temple-bound crowds, we charter a large boat and chug upstream to make a parikrama (circumambulation) of Umananda Nath–a Shiva temple on a small island that figured prominently in Panditji’s stay at Kamakhya years ago. We pay our respects from the boat, and take darshan from our cameras, noting the line of devotees strung around the island like a mala.
An even smaller island nearby intrigues us; Panditji refers to it as Patanjali’s Place. (Patanjali is the compiler of the Yoga Sutra). But the island is off-limits according to the authority of the Antiquities Board, though no one seems to know why. Again the camera captures the untold story, and we lumber back to the dock.
Interestingly, this is the night of Carnival in Rio de Janeiro and the Caribbean, and of Mardi Gras in New Orleans. We have residents of both these festive cities and the Caribbean islands in our group, so the unity of the world’s traditions is well represented on our pilgrimage.
The talk turns from King’s Cakes to parades when from our bus windows we spot a flock of the ubiquitous tube lights strung together and marching down the street behind floats featuring Lord Shiva, Kali, and other deities in the local variety of Mardi Gras and Carnival parade.
How is it that this particular night as defined by the phase of the moon, is celebrated by Hindus in a small city in Assam in the same way as Christians all over the Americas on the other side of the planet? We may speak a different language and understand the Divine from a different angle, but the same sun shines on us all, and the same moon moves our minds and hearts and compels us to dance in the streets.
Hoping to avoid the temple-bound crowds, we charter a large boat and chug upstream to make a parikrama (circumambulation) of Umananda Nath–a Shiva temple on a small island that figured prominently in Panditji’s stay at Kamakhya years ago. We pay our respects from the boat, and take darshan from our cameras, noting the line of devotees strung around the island like a mala.
An even smaller island nearby intrigues us; Panditji refers to it as Patanjali’s Place. (Patanjali is the compiler of the Yoga Sutra). But the island is off-limits according to the authority of the Antiquities Board, though no one seems to know why. Again the camera captures the untold story, and we lumber back to the dock.
Patanjali's Island
The talk turns from King’s Cakes to parades when from our bus windows we spot a flock of the ubiquitous tube lights strung together and marching down the street behind floats featuring Lord Shiva, Kali, and other deities in the local variety of Mardi Gras and Carnival parade.
How is it that this particular night as defined by the phase of the moon, is celebrated by Hindus in a small city in Assam in the same way as Christians all over the Americas on the other side of the planet? We may speak a different language and understand the Divine from a different angle, but the same sun shines on us all, and the same moon moves our minds and hearts and compels us to dance in the streets.
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