The Marble Miracle: Birla Mandir in Hyderabad, India.

 There is one thing a child always dreads- being told that they’re going on a holiday or a tour, by their parents and then tricked into actually going to a religious place of worship. Indian parents always want to take their kid to a place of worship, for some unknown reason. Maybe it is to instil discipline, or teach them to love, or at least, fear God, or in hopes that they might attain nirvana. I don’t know. What I do know, is that children aren’t big fans of the whole “let’s go a temple during vacation” idea. Especially me. As a kid (though I still am one, technically), I loathed going to temples. Don’t get me wrong and stop reading this essay now, I like my religion. I like all religions, I think they help bring diversity to the world and that we can learn something valuable from each and every religion. However, going to the crowded temples, with hundreds of devotees bunched together, standing in lines for hours, finally getting to see the idols, but halfway interrupted because someone stepped on your foot, and you don’t know who it is and you have to hide your pain and silently resign and then after hours of waiting, and an unsatisfactory look at God, you come out dejected, only to find out your shoes are now missing from the ‘chappal’ stand- This was not what I enjoyed.  Nevertheless, there is one temple that I often beg my parents to take me to. It is the tiny white speck in the distance, the stony edifice that hangs like a lantern from its rocky cliff side, the amalgam of nature and man, working together to create- The Birla Mandir.

                              Honestly, everything about this place is beautiful. Somehow, this small, white structure manages to get your attention- whether you’re on the flyover or not. Even if you’re on your way to IMAX, excitedly chatting about the movie you want to watch, you will still pause to look at Birla Mandir. People pay more attention to Birla Mandir than they do to the traffic signs on the road. That is how magnificent the pull of this temple is. 

                             Also, you have to realize how beautiful the ride to the temple is. You see the temple on the horizon, from the flyover and make your way on the busy, Hyderabadi roads to this small lane on the left. So small you could actually miss it. And when you turn into this left, it’s as if you’ve been transported from one world to another. The rush-hour traffic on a Saturday evening in Hyderabad, with all the cars around you rushing and pushing into each other seem to dematerialize, as you enter into a tiny lane, up a steep hill. And once you climb the steep hill in your car, hoping the car won’t somersault if you are a new driver, you reach the temple. The thirty second journey itself seems as if you’ve driven through the dense undergrowth and gigantic trees OF the Amazon forest and HAVE finally seen the light of day (I feel like Angelina Jolie, in Lara Croft, but whatever). 

                             Now, you’re in the open. And you’re shell-shocked by how big the temple actually is. It is HUGE. This 2000 ton pure marble structure towers over you, making you question your existence and think about how insignificant you are in this universe. 

You get out of the car, carefully (I always manage to stumble and make myself look like a fool) and make your way towards the shoe stand. Here, you are to put your shoes, your electronic devices, bags away, disconnect yourself with the world and connect with nature. And then, when your bare feet touch the ground, you wonder how long it has been since Mother Nature kissed your feet, since you took time out to look around, to look inside yourself, to be who you are. You make your way up the stairs, every step on the marble tiles fills you up with more and more enthusiasm and vigour to see what is to come. There’s a huge platform of marble, with small temples for different gods, all beautifully sculpted, sparkling white. After finishing your ‘pradakshana’, you continue forward. When you look to your LEFT, you can see huge gardens, red, green and yellow colours blinding your eyes. There are idols of gods like Lord Krishna, carefully sculpted, almost looking human-like. If desired, one can turn left, and descend down the stairs, towards the temple library. 

                                While climbing the steps, and letting your soul (or parents) decide where you’re going, you come across this small passage. Maybe it is while you’re doing the pradakshana, or maybe it’s one glance at the thing that’s not white, not made up of marble, that you notice- rock. You might be thinking, “Well, so? Why should I be amazed?” You should be, considering the temple is was built on a 280 feet tall hillock called ‘Naubath Pahad’. That’s an 85 metre rock, people! And when you walk, your fingers grazing the rocks, drawing imaginary lines on them, you notice how much higher you have to walk (This is the part where I sigh, because I despise any kind of cardio exercise). So you climb, higher than you have ever climbed before, when you reach the highest point of the temple. A huge wave of relief and a strong gust of wind seem to hit you at the same time. Walking forward, you notice the 42 feet tall brass flagstaff and make your way towards the dwaram, you feel anxious- a little excited, a little distorted because of the number of stairs you had to climb. There are two elephants that stand guard and they trumpet if they feel you’re unfit to enter the templ-I’m joking, the elephants are made of marble. Once you enter, the temperature drops. There are carvings on the walls, of pictures and instances in lives of Gods and mortal heroes (no, not the movie ones). The air molecules stop moving, the wind is knocked out of your lungs, when you lock eyes with the 11 foot tall granitic idol of Lord Venkateshwara. I can’t describe what happens after this. It depends on what kind of a person you are. If you are a stanch supporter of God, you’ll probably faint at the sight of that marvellous idol. If you’re an atheist or an apatheist, you’ll marvel at the beautiful sculpture. It varies from person to person. There are two small temples of goddess on either side of the main temple. The best part after this is the view. The view from this hilltop is absolutely gorgeous. You can see the huge skyscrapers, to the slums to the breath-taking water body of Hussain Sagar. If you go at night, you can see a stretch of lights, which look like diyas on your walls during Diwali, but are the headlights of different cars. The view is indescribable (I actually feel like Simba from Lion King, standing on Pride Rock, but okay). There is always the reddish sky, filled with the puffy clouds which you think you could almost touch, and the hundreds of eagles that circle the sky. Honestly, you could probably spend an eternity there.

And when you finally get down, quite reluctantly, you can smell the sweet aroma of ladoos, which fills the air. You follow this smell, towards a small store on your right, where a man sits, selling the ladoos. You buy a few and decide to leave, when you notice the bright lights inside the store. You walk into the store, filled with hundreds and thousands of books- ranging from Swami Vivekananda to Chetan Bhagat, and the idols made of marble, stone and metal, still on the shelves, waiting to be sold. Somehow, you end up going back home, with a few books in your hand, idols in your purse, a ladoo in your mouth, a tilak on your forehead and satisfaction in your heart.  

                             But, the reason I love Birla Mandir, apart from its peace and serenity, and brilliant craftsmanship, is its diversity. It is a Hindu temple, but people of all religions can be found here. Somehow, a typical Hindu lady, dressed in a saree with the biggest tilak I’ve ever seen in my life on her forehead talking to a lady in a hijab whilst standing in this temple, warms my heart. Or a Sikh asking for directions towards the small Sai Baba temple in Birla Mandir. There’s even a huge clock tower made of marble in the temple. In the passageway leading to the lift, one can find sculptures of scenes from the Bible. Last time I’d been there a few months ago, I’d even met a few foreigners. Clad in traditional Indian clothes that even Indians have today forgotten to wear, with a smile on their faces, they asked us in their thick British accents what the story behind the Hindu Gods is. 

This is why I love this tourist spot. It’s clean, green, spectacular and diverse. It’s a symbol of unity, diversity, pride and beauty. It shows us how a true religious place of worship isn’t only for the followers of that religion, but for anybody who wants to worship. 

(A lil something I wrote for a Telangana Tourism competition 2 years ago.)