From The Peopling of New York City

Savoring The Ganesha Temple

The Ganesha Temple, Shri aha Vallabha Ganapati, in Flushing, Queens expresses South Indian rituals and provides a multifunctional place for diverse worshipers from the New York metropolitan area come to pray, celebrate, and even take dance lessons (Lessinger 49, 50). It was a rainy, dismal day, but my first visit to the temple offered a comfortable atmosphere rich in South Asian culture. At the entrance, intricately carved statues and granite pillars created a hall, where many Hindu people lined their shoes before entering the temple. Later, I would learn that these statues, imported from India, represent 16 forms of Ganesh, the central deity of the temple. My feet cold and my mind perplexed, I walked through the temple doors following the class. I was initially faced with overwhelming images of praying people, exotic and vibrant religious idols, and male religious leaders – bare-chested with colorful Dhotis around their wastes. It was my first visit to a Hindu temple, and with little knowledge of the religion and culture, I observed the temple like a museum. However, as I learned from the professor and other Hindu people about the relevance, importance, and history of the temple and its people, I became more involved in the Hindu-cultural experience. I began to understand what it meant to be an Indian American, urging for the feeling of spiritual connection and community.

After five minutes of confusion, I started realizing the warmth we were welcomed with. We were not stared at coldly, but were invited to sit, observe, and pray as we wish. The space was open and the people diverse. The class was not the only non-Indians; however, there were a few others mixed couples, white and African American people. I studied the main deity, Ganesha. The idol, with a large elephant head and a human body, was gold and glittered, surrounded in necklaces of brilliant colored flowers. There were many deities encircling the temple and rituals occurring, which I knew little about. A kind gentleman, Ganapathy Padnanabhan (GP), offered his knowledge to us and was excited to share his culture to non-Indians. It was this sort of attitude that existed in the temple. GP explained that only the priests, the Poojaris, were allowed to enter the shrines. They were trained to perform the proper rituals, chants, and versus and were knowledgeable of the holy language, Sanskrit. The priests’ rituals were quite interesting, as I learned that they had to chant all the names of the gods (around 108 names per God) and place flowers around the necks’ of the idols (often donated by people who wished to offer them to the gods for a better future).

However, Hindu people were invited to participate in many ways. I watched an elderly woman in a ginger sari, eyes overflowing with emotion and love, spin slowly three times, bow to the god, and then walk around the shrine. A pair of modern Indian men dressed in leather jackets and slacks walked in briefly, performed a hand gesture, and left after five minutes. Many Hindu people prayed to the deity in this way and many in their own. The temple appeared tolerant, loose, and simultaneously, united. It was interesting how many diverse Indian people were present at the Hindu temple. Young children, teenagers, parents in jeans or traditional dress, grandmothers with red bindis on their forehead were united here under different languages and from different parts of India. Listening to the people communicating, they often spoke in English with the Poojari. English, ironically, was a language that was useful to unite the Hindu people.

One shrine, that mystified me was the nine planets. Silver and smaller then the Ganesh, the nine deities with a sun in the center were glowing under a candle ambiance. To me, it represented a cosmic component of the Hindu faith. In a sense, this representation of the universe united me with the people because we were all part of one universe and one planet. Although I was ethnically different from the people in the temple community, we were all different in one way, coming from different places, and trying to hold onto cultural identity in New York City.

The father, Shiva, and mother of Ganesh were being honored that day. It was the Maha Sivaratri festival in honor of Shiva. A gallon of milk was prepared, waiting to be poured on the idol. Many coconuts, pineapples, and flowers were being offered as well. GP told us that the ceremony would go through the night in four phases. At night, an upsurge of energy in the human system would occur because of the plants and ultimately benefit spiritual and physical wellbeing. To celebrate, some classmates and I enjoyed an authentic Indian meal, Masala Dosa, in the basement canteen of the temple. It was a place to pray, eat, and carry out a Hindu way of life. As I savored my sugar-covered Laddoo dessert, I was reminded of Ganapathy’s saying, “God is an experience, like sugar. Sugar is sweet, but you won’t experience sugar till you eat it.” Although I may not have experienced God that day, visiting the Temple, with its cultural tolerance and multifunctional Indian-cultural atmosphere, was a sweet and memorable experience.

Works Cited: Lessinger, Johanna. From the Ganges to the Hudson. Needham Heights, MA: Allyn and Bacan, 1995.

Visit the Ganesha Temple Site for More Information

--shannakofman 02:51, 24 February 2009 (UTC)