The Grandeur of Shivratri

The Red visible here is the temple from our house

The moment I reach home, i.e., our ancestral house in Burdwan Ma insists that we visit the Shiv Mandir first. This time it was no exception. I and my three- year old paid our regards to the deity and walked home. This was the conversation that happened between us:

Boy: Ma, the Shib here is not like the Shib in Rourkela .It is alaada (different).

Me: Accha, how is that so?

Boy: I have seen photos in the temple there.

Me: Ok

Boy: And then there is also Shib in Bal Ganesh. (Bal Ganesh is an animated version of the story about Lord Ganesh)

I am still thinking of the differences he is trying to point out and then he says

Boy: Burdwan er Shib has no snake, no face. It is not a lok (man). Why do you call it Shib nono? It is only stone. 

Very interesting isn’t it! The three- year old finds the Shiva Linga an oddity! And how do you explain a Shiva Linga to a toddler! I am clueless. Maybe my readers can come up with a way to explain it to him. Thankfully he mumbled to himself and did not press me for further answers. Thank God!

The deity back home. The silver trishul and the snake were stolen

Painted and decorated

Shivratri is a grand affair at my house in Burdwan. The temple overlooks a huge pond and has a proper bathing ghat attached to it. I think it dates back to the early 1900’s. It was initially a dilapidated structure, never maintained by anyone. No one painted the temple and seva of the deity was subjected to the whims and fancies of the worshippers. If someone had a ‘manshik’ they offered Pujo or else the deity went without his daily diet! Infested with rats, cockroaches and lizards the temple was in a sorrow state. Though there was a rightful owner, he never bothered to look into the affairs of the temple.  Later we found out that he was too old, senile and poor to be looking into it. And it’s also strange and sad that after my parents took over the care of the temple the poor man died in a fire.

Getting the Bhog ready

It was in 2000 that Baba decided to shift to Burdwan after taking voluntary retirement from work. Thamma (my paternal grandmother) was not getting younger and needed us to take care of her. It was during this shifting that Baba had a bad fall from the ladder. He could have been badly hurt but he escaped with a fractured elbow. The doctors considered it to be a complicated surgery. The surgery happened a week before Shivratri. Ma promised the Lord that she would take upon herself the seva of the Lord if the surgery was successful. The Lord granted her wish and thus began our tryst with the Lord. 

The mukut

But it was not an easy task. Restoring the lost glory of the temple was a task in itself. The main hurdles were the need for manpower and money. It proved to be too expensive a task for a retired man.  We sisters and some of our relatives pooled in money to form a small fund for the temple. A young man from a village nearby offered to put in his labor. Within a few days the temple was painted, scrubbed clean, a priest appointed on the basis of a monthly salary, regular Pujo offerings by Ma and a special ‘somvaar’ Pujo. 

The temple thrived attracting people from all around the city; devotees started thronging the Mandir premises. The word spread around that ‘whoever prays here have their wishes granted’. People contributed to the regular Pujo willingly and since then we no longer need to bother ourselves about the daily offerings to the Lord.

Our 85-year old Purohit Rashbehari dadu

As Shivratri draws closer, I keep going back to my days in Burdwan. The days preceding Shivratri are too busy.  I think after Durga Puja it’s the second time that we have a ‘shaaj shaaj rob’ in the family. Painting the temple, ordering garlands and flowers, drawing alpona, buying ingredients for the Bhog, making food packets, informing all about the exact time for the commencement of the Pujo and not to miss the discussions about what to wear for the Pujo are some the various activities we indulge in.

Our new 14 year- old Purohit

Decorating the temple is a task which I have always enjoyed. Baba usually orders a variety of flowers from the florist in our locality. The first year Ma had designed a beautiful ‘mukut’ (headdress) for the Lord. The next year they did not have to order as the florist decided to offer it voluntarily. The ‘mukut’ has become a tradition since the last thirteen years. Scores of tuni bulbs adorn the temple from every angle and a huge halogen light is also strung to show the way to the devotees. Ma cooks the Bhog at home which is taken to the temple in huge copper plates, offered to the Lord and then distributed amongst all. 

These days the Pujo has grown in dimension with many people joining in. It has become more of a para event with the neighbors bearing the cost of fruits and sweets, some joining in the Bhog making and some helping in distribution as well. 

It’s interesting to note that the initial hostility and resentment that greeted us when we shifted to Burdwan is now replaced with lot of love, warmth and cooperation from the same people. People who tried to make our life hell by defecating in front of our entrance, robbing the temple of the silver snake and trishul, teasing us have now pledged to stand by us and help us in all our endeavors. 

Ponjika for March