The young sannyasi entered the temple quietly and sat crosslegged on the floor. He wore the flowing saffron-colored robes of his religious order, with the top half draped elegantly around his upper body. His face was round, beautiful in an almost child-like way, with full, sensuous lips and smooth skin the color of almonds. Fleetingly, he looked across the candlelit temple, which was filled with Indian worshippers ready for the evening’s aarti ceremony. From my place near the right side of the altar, where I sat sandwiched between two Bengali women in saris, I caught his glance briefly. Was it my imagination, or was there a hint of melancholy in his dark brown eyes?
The sannyasi directed his gaze towards the altar, took a deep breath and began to play the small harmonium that stood in front of him. As the accordion-like sounds started to weave their way around the temple, it seemed to transform from a dreary, cold concrete structure into an enchanting sanctuary. Suddenly, over the evocative, almost mournful chords of the instrument rose a strong, clear voice that sang a song so haunting, filled with such passion and devotion, that my body began to tingle all over.
Fascinated, I listened to the chant of ‘Om Namah Shivaya’, an ancient Sanskrit mantra in praise of the Hindu God Shiva, and felt as though I had somehow, magically, been transported into a different, faraway age. The melody reverberated around the temple and drifted out of the barred windows into the snow covered mountains that surrounded us.
Shiva’s Song
by Tiziana Stupia