Nandan and I went to Ayodhya, the birthplace and royal home of Lord Ram. He was actually going to a funeral for a friend’s grandfather, but Ayodhya was nearby. I wanted to join him for both events.
Ram is one of the most popular Hindu deities. He was an avatar of Lord Vishnu and the Ramayana, a story about his life, he is banished from his kingdom for years. During that time a demon named Ravan kidnaps his wife Sita. With the help of a monkey god named Hanuman he saves Sita and returns to rule in Ayodhya.
This modern-looking temple in the picture was the site of the royal family’s pujaghar, or worship house. Also in my photos are the temple on the site of Ram’s palace, but the attraction of the city is less due to these things than to the fortress around Ram’s birthplace.
At some point in the past Muslims destroyed the temple dedicated to Ram’s birthplace and built the Babri Mosque on top of it. From 1947 until 1998 one political party, the Congress Party, had almost all the power in India. In 1992 the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) began their rise to power on the platform that they would tear down the mosque and rebuild Ram’s temple. Eventually they did come to control national parliament. I say this to emphasize that Ayodhya is important.
Today there is a small idol of Ram amid a huge fortress, such is the fear of terrorism. I passed over one hundred guards during a needlessly long walk down a narrow, chain-link walled path. Guards searched me four times. A man reviewed my passport copying all the personal info inside.
It is forbidden to take in more than a standard bag of prashad. Both Nandan and I had ours blessed, but almost immediately after a monkey busted through security to steal Nandans by reaching throw a narrow gap in the walls. There were monkeys everywhere, but I felt safe because the fence was especially finely quilted and in most places monkeys could not go through.
The funeral was like some other social events I have been to. The body was burned thirteen days ago, and this event was a meal in honor of the dead and it signified the last day of intense mourning.
I stand out. People crowd around me. My escorts move me around and see to it that I am comfortable and that no one monopolizes me. It must be hard to be famous – it is stressful for me to try to ldo my best to live up to the locals’ expectations of how a foreigner is to behave. I try hard to give full attention to everyone but they expect a lot. I want to leave a good impression.
There were a lot of people there. Nandan said more than 800 had eaten before we came, and since it was only 7, I expect that 400 more came after we left. The family was prominent in that small town due to their successful pharmaceutical wholesale distributorship. Nandan knew the son of the house from young adulthood in Benares.
The whole event was very civilized and probably very good for the family. I think it would be a good idea for Westerners to have such an event after a funeral.