Ramblings of a Professor

Visit to Hindu Temple–OKC February 21, 2011

As part of my professional development at work, I decided to experience other religions within the Oklahoma City area. For months, I researched online before receiving enough nerve from the “gods” to visit the Hindu Temple of Oklahoma.

HIndu Temple of Oklahoma City

After reviewing their Website calendar, the temple was holding a puja (or pooja), a worship service for the god Sri Hanuman, the “monkey man,” who helps Rama rescue his wife Sita in the epic tale The Ramayana. I googled Hanuman and found out that he is the deity one prays to for strength, courage, and protection. During this entire month, I have lost my strength and willpower to endure mentally the pain of my life, albeit mostly invented pain. What perfect timing to experience a puja and perhaps receiving a blessing from the great Hanuman!

Hanuman

I entered the temple drive and saw the building for the first time in person, though I have seen its picture on their website. A picture is not always worth a thousand words. In the middle of a forest stood a temple of God (or gods, if you will), and I literally lost my breath seeing the various elements of architecture as if I stood in a temple in Northeast India. I knew nothing of the designs, the gargoyle-style of protection, or the names of the various beings or deities protecting the temple from evil demons. I just stared and snapped a few pictures.

After that, a few girls walked near the front steps; I looked down and noticed them putting on their sandals. I asked, “Can I wear my socks in the temple.” They smiled and said yes. I said, “Good, because my bare feet are not pretty.” They laughed. One girl added, “Make sure you wash your hands before entering the temple, too.”

The entrance near the door showed two statues, one of a beautiful goddess baring her bosom for my eyes to catch. I thought, I wish the churches and synagogues I have seen would be this open with their sexuality! In the small lobby, an empty counter stood with scattered paperwork and a place to sign in. Unfortunately, no person occupied the counter, so I quickly washed my hands with pink soap and then began to enter the Hindu Temple of Oklahoma. A sign read above the door: “Please turn off all cell phones and remain silent in the temple area.” I respected the rules.

As I entered, a few Indians moved back and forth, as I looked around at the various areas of worship. In Hinduism, there are no chairs or places for great sermons to be preached. Sitting around me, I noticed so many replicas, statues, or incarnations of the gods and goddesses in Hinduism, such as Shiva, Hanuman, and Lakshmi (though their spelling is much different than the textbook’s). Before each place of worship, multi-colored red carpets rested on the floor. Before Shiva, one Indian Hindu sat on the floor in silence and prayed to Shiva. I wondered if he was praying or meditating, but I kept the rules of silence.

Meanwhile, as I looked around at the various incarnations, the priest prepared the gods for the morning worship by placing plates of incense in various areas and, at one point, losing his keys on the side of Lakshmi’s place of worship. The priest’s cell phone rang, and he answered the call as he moved around the worship area. (He spoke in Hindi.) I found these two details amusing but normal if one thinks about the daily operations of a temple. Nevertheless, another young man kept checking his text messages as he walked from the temple to another area of the small palace. Finally, one couple entered the temple, and to my surprise, I saw worship in action. Without shoes, their feet slid across the beautiful marble floor and walked near the God of Shiva (or Sri Siva). Their hands folded together in prayer, and they remained together before moving to the next god or goddess. Standing away from the red carpets, I simply watched this beautiful, inward journey the married couple expressed as they built up a flow of God’s energy in every manifestation of his/her form mounted in the temple. After they finished, I needed some time with Hanuman, the monkey god.

I stood before his figure first. I noticed the intricate details of Hanuman, which I had read on various websites. Before arriving at the temple, I even re-read parts of the Ramayana and the English translation of a traditional puja one gives when visiting Hanuman in a temple. Finally, I placed my two hands together and closed my eyes. Here, with the smell of incense in the room, I prayed for strength. I prayed that God would provide protection over Oklahoma City. I prayed that I could be a vessel of hope for others. Finally, I prayed that my courage would help me bring others closer to God as I walk on my own monotheistic journey of love. As I opened my eyes, I looked at Hanuman’s gaze. To my surprise, I might have seen a miracle. Hanuman’s eyes moved, as if he were acknowledging my prayer through a small nod. I didn’t have time to question whether a miracle just happened or if my eyes were simply playing tricks on me. Whatever happened, I felt the presence of some energy touching the very essence of my being.

It was after 11:00 am, and I decided it was about time to leave because the priest was not performing a puja in front of Hanuman. Did I misunderstand the website? Do Indian Hindus forget about time? Were they not even following the calendar I read on the website? Suddenly, an Indian couple entered the building. The woman spoke directly to the priest, “We are ready, but we want you to perform for our friend.” She seemed a bit demanding and also used her cell phone in the building. While her husband and she stood in front of Hanuman, their three children played in a corner and made quite a noise. One person in the temple asked them for their silence, but that helped little.

The priest then prepared Hanuman for the puja. He placed incense near Hanuman’s temple cave and began speaking in Sanskrit the same ritual words I had read online in English. I even remembered some of the Vedic hymn as he spoke loudly in a melodic chant and perhaps forgetting a few words as he moved along the scriptural passage. He turned to the couple near the altar and asked their name. The woman was still holding her phone and stated the prayer is not for her but a friend. She finally consented and gave the various names involved in strength for the friend.

The puja continued. The person who once sat meditating or praying on the carpet stood now with his body pointed in the direction of the puja. We both were not touching the carpet, and I felt more at peace as I showed respect for the ritual performance. The Vedic chant finally ended. The priest placed ashes on the forehead of the couple, and they brushed the ashes through their hair. Spices were offered, too, and they ate the spices the priests had prepared for them. A basket of fruit was offered to Hanuman, and fruit was also returned to the couple. The priest walked closely to me and offered me a banana. He said, “God bless you.” I smiled and held the banana in my hands, recognizing now how God flows not only through prayer but also through the offering before me.

As the ritual ended, I didn’t know what to do with the banana. I saw a Braum’s Fresh Market paper sack next to the altar and placed the banana in there because I did not want to offend the temple by taking somebody else’s blessing. Or, was I simply confused by the entire performance and did not know for certain my next step in my visitation.

“Excuse me,” the former meditator pronounced shyly. “This is my bag. You take it.” He pointed to the banana I had placed in there. “Thank you,” I said as I took back my banana and wondered if I had somehow ruined his perfect karma for the day.

Quietly, I left the temple and returned to my shoes. The parking lot was slowly filling, although mostly empty. A new couple exited their car with homemade food that probably I would have consumed if I stayed longer. I placed on my shoes and thought next time, if my toes do not look so terribly ugly, I will wear sandals to the temple as most Hindus do.

I sat in my car for a few minutes before leaving and stared at the banana. “What shall I do with God’s blessed food?” Finally, I stopped worrying and peeled the banana. The banana tasted like pure nectar from God. The fruit warmed my stomach as I drove away from the temple. Later that evening when I returned home, I tossed the banana peeling in the outdoor trashcan without even considering if Hanuman would approve. Hanuman was a monkey, for goodness sake. He would have tossed it out the window on the drive to his next destination. Or, for the fun of it, throw it at one of the monks looking for enlightenment in an Indian forest, for Hanuman, the monkey God, is also a trickster figure.

The day ended beautifully. I don’t know if my prayer will be answered, but still I hold this beautiful experience in my memory and hope that soon I visit the temple again and have some nerve to stay for lunch! Still, my cell phone will remain on silent. And, I will provide a good donation so that others can experience the divine in Oklahoma City.

Finally, I hope to meet face to face Hanuman again and find out if he really moves his eyes!

–Moon