Shrinathji (Nathdwara) - The Rush

Going to Shrinathji is always fulfilling. Ask any Vaishnav. There is a rush that builds up, leads to a climax and then there is a relief. Strange way of making someone feel at peace - excite them, and then remove the excitement. What remains is relief - and peace. And satisfaction, of achieving what you set out to do.

Let me explain. The temple at Nathdwara remains a house of chaos - for a few minutes every few hours. There are five to six darshans or jhankis (peeks) of the Lord. These are at different stages of the day, starting from morning (Mangla), dressing up (Shringar), cow-herding (Gval), meal (Raj-bhog), waking up after siesta (Uthapan), snacks (Bhog), bring cows home (Aarti), retire for the night (Shayan) and more or fewer jhankis depending on the Utsavs (festivals) or seasons. Check here and here for illustrations and more details.

The primary difference between Shrinathji and other religious places of worship, is that here, there are multiple jhankis of the same idol in the same day, while other places of worship - whether it is Shirdi, Tirupati, Siddhivinayak, Vaishnodevi, Dargahs, Churches and Gurudwaras - do not differ in darshan (or any term used to describe worship) through the day. This poses as a logistical challenge for temple authorities because before and after each jhanki, the core temple premises have to be evacuated and shut down. And there is a fresh queue for the next jhanki.

Actually there is no concept of a 'queue'. We have been going to Shrinathji ever since but we have never ever seen a disciplined way of doing darshan. There is always this crowd that is pushing itself against the doors of the temple and the slightest sound of the heavy latches gets everyone excited and pushing to be first to get darshan. When we (sister or cousins) were kids and went for darshan together, we used to look at every darshan as a battle - to fight other bhakts, poke them, elbow them, stamp on their feet - only to keep distance and retaliate the aggression and physical force we were subject to only for the joy of getting the first darshan - and getting darshan for the longest time. If we were with our mothers in the ladies section, we would make our way to the front to be able to get a clear view from the front. If we were with our fathers, we would look for any support on the walls or dividers and get an elevation of a foot or two. Or dad would simply lift us on shoulders and give us a view that would make everyone want to be a kid.

I always wondered why did there have to be so much chaos and running around at the beginning of every darshan. Could there not be queues and a system to avoid anxiety, accidents and quarrels? Over the years, there were numerous attempts at organizing and re-organizing the way darshan happened. In fact, there are stories that the Ambanis (also devotees who visit regularly) offered to fund a re-structuring but temple authorities would not allow that as they feel, like our ministers and politicians, that they would lose authority and power if there would not be chaos.

Anyways, when i went there this year, i said to myself that i will not add to the chaos and run along with others, but will be calm and do darshan in a patient manner. However, after checking into our accommodation, i was the first to have a shower and set off for darshan before my parents. I could find myself walking briskly - even running at times - to the temple. Maybe i didn't want to reach late and find the jhanki over. Having reached the temple and finding the gates open, i could have heaved relief. But i would only walk faster and climbed stairs swiftly enough to leave my plans of patience behind. I knew i was rushing. I knew it was not only because i thought i would miss the darshan. In fact, that could not be the reason because i was already inside the temple. But i was still rushing. Or feeling the rush, rather. I could feel someone calling me. And i was merely responding to the call.

One look at Shrinathji and i felt the relief i feel only there. The rush subsides and converts to a joy, taking the form of a smile or a tear, depending on the person. There was little rush. So i stayed on kept looking at the temple and its Lord. An important feature of the temple are its jhapatias (slappers). Their job is to slap devotees with a piece of cloth as a sign of asking them to quickly finish their darshan and move ahead to make way for other devotees. Something like bouncers and policemen put together. Some bhakts go and offer to be hit be the jhapatias as a blessing. It didn't matter at that time, as there was little rush. Those in a hurry had their darshan and were driven out. Those who came in late didn't find the rush and stayed on for a longer view. I stayed on till the curtains fell on the jhanki.

Walking back, i could see the gates closed, as preparations were on for the next jhanki. And people were already sitting in front of the doors, waiting for them to open. Waiting for the next jhanki. Waiting for the next rush.