The temple looked like a palace. Gold and maroon drapes. Cream marble pillars that stood on top of brownish-maroon granite floors. Beautiful oil paintings that covered the ceiling. A fourteen-foot dome at the center of the building. Customized woodcarvings from India. It was 10:55 P.M on August 13, 2009. The day of Janamshtami, the birth of Lord Krishna. I was sitting at the front of the newly built Krishna Valley Temple in Apple Valley, California, admiring how I helped in making this dream of the first Hindu temple in the High Desert become a reality. However, contrary to the royalty of the temple, my peasantry nervousness overtook my admiration for the temple as masses of people were flooding through the door, rushing in to secure a good spot for the show. The show I had to perform. I felt sick.
Picture of the Krishna Valley Temple:
It was black outside. The full luminous moon shined through the skyscrapers on the forty-eight foot ceiling of the temple. The temple hall glistened; everything was spotless. The granite floors were so clean that when I looked, I could see my own reflection. An unattractive face. The perspiration dripping down my face smeared my black eyeliner. My golden concealer became blotchy and conspicuous. The redness from my anxiety on my cheeks looked like a cheap and tacky blush. I was scared. I was insecure. I quickly looked away from this hideousness and continued to admire the beauty of the temple.
The prominence of the harmonium was reflected by its regal appearance. While I camouflaged with the rest of the surroundings, the harmonium, as always, made an appearance. I looked tacky in my gaudy gold and red Indian suit that weighed 10,000 pounds, but it looked elegant and sophisticated. The brilliant silver knobs looked like majestic jewelry. The luminous white paint dressing it stood out in the gold and maroon setting. The sparkly keys shined in the bright light. With the spotlight on it, the harmonium was the star of the show.
At each angle, microphones surrounded the harmonium and me, entrapping us in one set position. I was stuck. Even if I wanted to run away, I could not because the wiring would arrest me. Terrifyingly, I looked around the room and saw over three hundred people sitting down while more were swarming through the door.
The head priest approached me, saving me from my insanity. He said it was time. “Mentally take us to Mathura, India, [the actual birthplace of Krishna] tonight,” he told me. I looked at the clock and it was exactly 11:00 P.M. I took a deep breath. I had to begin the show.
Ever since I was five years old, I have been raised with a strong religious background. My parents put me in Hindu classes so I would not lose touch with the Indian culture and Hindu religion, despite being thousands of miles away from my motherland. However, at this age, I was too young to understand the importance of these classes.
I began to learn the piano when I was eight years old and a year later, my parents put me in harmonium and singing classes for Indian music. I felt an immediate connection to each of these forms of art, especially the harmonium. I found myself impatiently waiting for my classes and constantly practicing when I was not in class. Playing the harmonium and learning how to play the hymns that have been in my religion for all of eternity awakened my soul and gave me a profound connection to my culture and religion. Although I was born in America, playing this instrument finally gave me the identity as an Indian. It linked me to my culture and helped me understand my religion. When I played the harmonium and sang the Indian songs, I felt sacred. Calm. Satisfied. My whole body felt pure as if I was swimming in the holy waters of the Ganges. At that point I knew I had a special relationship with the harmonium, and music in general.
From ages ten to fifteen, I would play the harmonium and lead the singing every Sunday evening during our religious classes. Each Sunday, we would alternate going to homes of various Hindu families because we did not have a local temple. Extremely inconvenient for everyone! I was finally fed up with this when I was fifteen. I told my dad that I was sick of bringing my heavy instrument around from house to house. The harmonium deserved better treatment; it was too good for this. Unfortunately, he did not take me seriously. So, I proved to him that the Indians of the High Desert were ready for a temple. I built a donation box out of a shoebox and made tacky decorations all over with my glitter markers. Within three weeks, I collected three thousand dollars, which was enough for my dad to initiate the project. The temple was built three years later. Finally, not only would God have a permanent home, but my harmonium would too. The harmonium motivated me to do something special for my culture and religion. It was because of my relationship with the harmonium that I went through with this time-consuming and very difficult project. It always inspired me.
Now, sitting in the temple that I helped create, I had to just begin the show. Even if my stomach was in knots and my flesh was burning. Not to mention, my memory had completely blanked. However, when I placed my hands on the smooth white and black keys, I felt at ease. Everything came back to me. All of the five hundred plus people no longer mattered to me. It was just the harmonium and myself.
As I was starting to enter a new world by getting so involved in each note of the music, it occurred to me how melodious the hundreds of people sounded together in parallel with the harmonium. I have heard some of them sing individually and to say in the nicest way possible, it was not pleasing. However, they sounded beautiful now. When I looked around the room, most of the audience was in an out-of-this-world trance. Their eyes were closed. Their facial expressions were at peace.
Midnight was approaching—the climax of the celebration. My mind was dancing to the intensity of the music. The vibrations of the harmonium that resonated in each inch of the temple made my heart pound faster and faster. The fastness and power at which the harmonium was being played gave me goose bumps. The hall was thundering with the people clapping so loudly and in rhythm. The people began to sing louder and louder, but their voices never were overbearing to the harmonium. Even when I felt like I could not hear my own voice, I could still hear the harmonium. It was always primary.
I finally opened my eyes and started to become aware of my surroundings. The big hand on the clock struck midnight. Finally, the long awaited curtains opened. The people became so excited, impatiently pushing their way to the front to have the first look of the deities. I was lucky enough to be accompanied by the star of the show to have the front row, center seat.
Lord Krishna and Radha deities at the temple:
At 12:30 A.M, I closed the performance. The people paid their final obeisance to the Lord and rushed to the kitchen for the “prasad.” But, I sat around for five more minutes. I needed time to recover from the roller coaster of emotions that I experienced that night. After gathering my thoughts on the transcendence of the evening, I put the harmonium back in a safe place. Away from the hyper little children who thought of it as a toy. As I was doing this, I could not help but think how different tonight would have been without this delightful instrument. It held the hundreds of people together. It transformed the night into something out-of-the ordinary. Once again, the harmonium exceeded my expectations and inspired me even more. I looked at my hands that were all red and blistered from playing for so long, but I did not even feel the pain. I was way too captivated by the entirety of the night.
When the people came to me to congratulate me and thank me for the amazing night, I politely thanked them. However, I knew I would be cheating if I took all the credit. It was the harmonium that transformed the night. It always brought out the best in me. It made me happy. It made others happy. It inspired me to work hard for what I believed in. It linked me to my culture and religion. It has transformed my life. The harmonium is magical.
No comments:
Post a Comment