THE GOLDEN TEMPLE
I held onto my daughter, Siri-Atma’s
hand as we made our way up the narrow curved marble staircase to the balcony level of the Golden Temple.
I was dizzy and out of breath. Whatevever she suggested, I followed. When she was little, she followed me like a little duckie; now I was her little duckie!
The very powerful, extremely subtle energies
of the Golden Temple in Amritsar, India were working on me to
the extent that I wasn’t able to clearly think or see what was in front of me.
We were just moving through a thick lake of very fine vibration.
The afternoon before, New Year’s
Eve 2006/07, we had just arrived in Amritsar at their new international airport—somewhat like a large bus station in
the States, but with exterior Indian arched colonnades, and outside totally jammed with cars and autorickshaws (small 3 wheeled
open conveyances that run on lawn mower motors making huge clouds of black exhaust).
Very gratefully, our friend and great guide Ravi Kaur picked us up from the plane station in a big car with a driver
from the hotel!
After a scrumptious dinner with friends
at the Crystal restaurant, then dumping our stuff at the comfortable hotel (by Indian standards), we ventured across the human
and animal crammed passageway that might be called a street, where we first made our way to the compound of the Golden Temple.
After jostling to check our shoes, sloshing through the footbath that washes the “dust from the feet of the saints”—the
pilgrims and devotees who come there, and making our way through the huge clock tower with white arch entrance through the
wall surrounding the compound, there it was! So simple, so small, so inexpressibly
grand, so brilliant in its shining gold, so elegant, seeming to float in the majestic center of its shimmering pond. The Golden Temple—what we had come for!
Siri Atma, who hadn’t been back
to India since she finished her last three
years of high school in the Himalayan foothills 22 years ago, broke into a flood of unexpected tears! We bowed our heads right there on the prakarma, the marble walkway where pilgrims make their prayerful
circumambulation around the squared perimeter of the healing waters of the sacred “nectar tank” or “amrit
sarovar.” Our wet feet on the piercingly frigid marble reminded me of small
boys’ experiments of touching their tongues to frozen metal! But luckily
our feet didn’t stick! And most thankfully, they had put out runners of
kaki jute as well as red outdoor carpeting to insulate our feet. We were surprised
to discover huge gold fish with gaping mouths ambling in the tank! We were Home!
That night, we returned to the Golden Temple to meet
Har Narayan, my daughter’s son—my grandson on the prakarma. Needless
to say, there was a lot of joyful hugging going on! The prakarma was packed for
New Year’s Eve! Amidst all that commotion, all of about 100 kids from all
over the world who attend our school just outside of Amritsar at Miri Piri Academy
had come in their midnight blue uniforms to meditate at the year change. How
amazing to be among this group of self-assured, glowing strong children as they meditatively chanted to our most kind and
loving Guru Ram Das, accompanied by guitar. Then, before you knew it, many of
them were taking a dip in the sacred, ice-cold waters! And still they came to
generously introduce themselves before they made their way back to their bus in freezing dripping wet clothes. This was it; we were all Home!
On the next morning, as I sat on the
prakarma, the fog rolled and rolled in. As I watched flabbergasted, the whole
Golden Temple
disappeared in grayness, I was left with only the great gold fish in the green waters near where I sat. It seemed like Shangri-la had disappeared behind mythic clouds, although I still felt its presence.
YOUR PRAYERS
I want to deeply thank you all for first
sending your prayers for my safe journey, even before you offered your own prayers to be sent from the Golden Temple!
Frankly, I had been dreading what I felt could have been really challenging health for me if it had not been for your
prayerful interventions! Early in the first week, I fell off the side of “pothole”
to sprain my ankle and gouge the other knee—not so severe though. And then
I let my allergies get out of hand by not insisting that every mouthful of delicious Indian fare be free of butter, resulting
in a great case of bronchitis. All that slowed me down a bit, but did not keep
me from any of the extraordinary events that the Universe had in store for me! And
so in our second week, the first morning we were in Mcleod Gange—the town of the Dalai Lama’s Tibetan government
in exile, which is just above the Indian re-named village of Dharamsala,
I saw a lovely Tibetan doctor at a clinic located near the Tibetan
Medical College. She knew all about my health just from taking my pulses! By
taking the hand made medicines she prescribed, the bronchitis steadily backed off. I
just wish I could bring her—the doctor home with me.
Amazingly, I have been able to print
out all your prayers since I have been here! I was very surprised to find that
the internet works the same all over the world, even in grimy little internet shops here in Amritsar, as well as in my (Le Golden) hotel’s slick front office. I have been very touched by the very high vibrations and intent of your prayers and am doing my utmost
to present them in the most sacred and meditative way.
This is my routine with them during my
third and forth weeks here. In the mornings, I make my way across the “street”
to a back door entrance to the Golden Temple. It’s great because that entrance is so close and so free of jostling. The only caveat is that one needs to wear native flip flops, so that when you leave them outside the door,
no one will be enticed to make off with them. I enter right there by the Akal
Takhat, that big, elaborate white building that is the seat of the governors of the five major Indian gurdwaras here, and
who direct Sikh affairs. Some amazing historic weapons of Sikh Gurus and other saints are actually kept on display here. And behind the Akal Takhat, the many small rooms that line the approximately three
stories each appears to hold a whole Akand Path, which is a continuous reading of the Sikh scriptures (written by Sikhs, Hindus
and Muslims). An Akand Path takes about 58 hours of solid reading time in the
original script, creating a most high energetic vibration. And if you can imagine,
they are all going on at once! In addition, there are quite a few other places
around the prakarma, as well as three in the Golden Temple that are always being read! I made
a donation in the name of all of us for one to be read. The dates they gave me
in their backed up schedule are June 10-12, 2008, but I am banking that we can get the blessings starting right away!
The Akal Takhat is on one side of the
prakarma, just opposite the entrance arch/gate to the causeway over the nectar tank that leads to the Golden Temple.
I am always startled by that view of that eloquent structure framed through that gateway! With its white marble first level, and the gold bas relief designs from the second story to the top, rimmed
with sculptural onion shaped domes, and topped with a massive gold “inverted lotus” dome that houses yet another
gurdwara (prayer room). It is spectacular in its stateliness, but still of human
proportions, being surprisingly small for what it is! And what a glow the gold
gives off, although it looks like it is getting ready to receive another coat pretty soon.
On the marble causeway, there are three
lanes separated by brass fences. Since everyone here drives on the left, British
style, the left lane is for those entering who want to bow first on the main floor.
The narrow middle path is for those who want to take the fast road by circumventing that very crowded bowing on the
main floor, and make their way to other areas of the temple, which is what I usually do.
And the right lane is for those who are leaving the temple—often turning to bow and whisper prayers as they depart.
When I reach the white marble walls of
the first floor that are inlaid with narrow borders of black stone and intricate designs of semi-precious colored stones creating
flowers, birds, vases, leaves, lions and so on, I do my best to keep moving with the traffic flow to the back “deck”
where you can also reach down to dip a handful of healing water to feel and sip.
From there, I climb that narrow winding
marble staircase to reach the second floor, bow to the Guru (Word of the scriptures there), present an offering and then make
my way to the fairly narrow balcony area where you can look down on the main Guru (scriptures) in the center, all dressed
finely in gorgeous colored and sparkling ramalas (altar clothes) with a matching canopy above.
There also sit the ragis—usually a group of three hymn singers, two accompanying on harmoniums—small hand
driven organs, with one playing tablas—a set of two drums played in amazing rhythms.
Everyone sits cross-legged on the floor. Their songs—hymns of high
sound vibration and penetrating content that are usually taken from the poems of the Guru (scriptures) are sweetly amplified
to fill the whole temple, and are also blared across the nectar tank to outside the temple where I can even hear them from
my hotel. Those extraordinary sounds grab my heart and consciousness to amazing
places!
From the center of the more than two-story
high ceiling drips a magnificent crystal chandelier. The arched ceilings are
all designed into patterns of gold with some red and blue boarders around scores of round mirrors, and the squared columns
from the balcony to the ceiling are painted in beautiful decorative designs, again of stylized birds, flowers, leaves, vases
and some other animals. And luckily in this chilly weather, red carpets are seasonally
placed on the marble floors, making it very agreeable to sit there for long periods of time.
From what I have seen, the temperatures usually vary from the 40s or 50s F. before sunrise and then may warm up to
the 70s F. in the afternoon sun. I understand it can get torrid here in other
seasons!
Then, if I can, I find a place in a window
alcove on an outside wall of the balcony whose golden shutters are hopefully open to the sunlight and give a view of the outside. Here I sit, read my Japji (Guru Nanak’s first prayer of the day that describes
“what it’s all about”) and then meditate on your prayers, feel the energy change, and listen for answers
for you.
I love to gaze out the window from that
level, looking over the very distinctive somewhat milky blue-green waters of the nectar tank.
That is the same outrageous color as the water in all the canals and rivers that I have seen in this northern state
of Punjab! I suspect the color is from mountain
glacier melt, but will have to check that out. It doesn’t seem to rain
much here, except in the monsoon season in July—just like New Mexico!
After having been at the Golden Temple a number of times, I feel its
subtle energies, but it feels rather normal. However, when I leave I know that
I have been enveloped in some kind of strong trance energy because I feel a kind of ripping through an invisible curtain or
membrane as I step out.
This nectar tank is built on the site
of an ancient spring and pool known from antiquity for its healing effects. The
land was given to Guru Ram Das by a kindly Mogul Muslim emperor in the 1600s; and the first temple was built on this pool
by his son, Guru Arjan. I understand that that temple was consequently destroyed
by a subsequent generation of Moguls and then rebuilt in its present form in the 1700s.
These days, I learned from the manager of the Golden
Temple that not only does this healing spring supply the nectar tank,
but water from a local river is also diverted here. There is a strong filtration
system that circulates these special waters among a total of five temples in the area.
You can see devoted men submerging themselves
in these healing waters to gain their benefits along the edges of the prakarma where they deftly change their wet clothes
when they come out. And there are two bathhouses along the edge of the prakarma
where women can modestly change their clothes and dip. My daughter said that
when the first group of American school kids arrived here 25 years ago, some actually swam out to the middle of the sacred
tank! Needless to say, they were pulled back from their merrymaking by more conservative
Indian elders!
The prakarma all around is backed by
about three tiers of white colonnaded, then balconied stories that look like a stacked white and decorated wedding cake.
It has been quite a wonderful experience meditating
on your prayers in this most serene and holy place! I feel a transition in those
energies within my heart as they are sent along. I certainly hope that you will
feel the differences as well, my Dears! I have written what I heard after each
one of the “prayer episodes,” and hope that you will find them helpful.
