Kapalesheewarar Temple in Chennai

chillibreeze writer — Swetha Krishnan

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As a resident of Mylapore; one of the oldest parts of present day Chennai; I have of course visited the famed Kapaleeshwarar (another name for Lord Shiva) temple countless times. But every visit I make, I experience something new about this magical and ancient monument. This time around, I chose to go with one of my Aunts, who has virtually lived her entire life near the temple. She is one of probably many who credit every bit of happiness in their lives to the residing Goddess Karpagambal. An ardent and dedicated devotee; there could be none better than her to act as my guide to the familiar and famous landmark of Chennai.

As I approached the temple I think about its history. Though the original temple was more than 2000 years old, it was devastated when the Portuguese came to Mylapore which was a flourishing port at the time. The temple that stands today is only around 300 years old. So much of Dravidian history and architecture lost. It is almost enough to makes one feel there should be a tribunal for crimes against history. But the temple was resurrected and what stands today is a monument to endurance. The Mylapore which today is only a small part of the city of Chennai; was at one time a small village built around the temple. All the narrow streets in the surrounding area lead to the temple. Though it might have been so for convenience’s sake my fanciful imagination makes me feel like the design is to depict our journey to a heavenly end.

The reverie is broken when I see the tank in front of me. The custom was for a devotee to first wash his or her hands and feet at the nearby constructed tank which for years past had been dry due to the severe water shortage city has been battling for some time. Today it lies sealed from the general public today to maintain its cleanliness. It is open one month in a year (during the Phalguni month from March 15 to April 15) when the Gods or Utsavars are brought out. The reason for the Gods coming out is both logical as well as considerate. People who are unable to visit the temple are given a chance to gaze upon the vision of Lord Shiva and the Goddess Parvati. During this time hundreds of lamps are lit and floated on the water in the tank making you think of a sky filled with stars on earth.

Today the temple’s approach path is crowded with small shops selling prayer books, flowers, incense sticks and numerous other items that form part of one’s daily worship rituals. That hundreds of devotees visit the temple each means that there are quite a few scooters and cars parked as well. One might almost miss the mandapam that stands in front of the east facing entrance framed by the 40m high Gopuram. This is where all the Gods are brought out in their glory during the month of Phalguni before going around the streets around the temple. The entrance is beautiful but is slightly marred by the neon sign, the tube lights and the electricity wires running across.

Temples in days gone by were places where villagers would congregate in the mornings and evenings with friends, or walk alone, at peace within its vast confines. In my mind I can almost see women and men laughing and sitting in the large courtyard, with the Gods looking over them fondly. This makes me eager to experience the Kapaleeshwarar temple and its history.

As I step though the entrance, the midday heat emanating from the stone floor is what hits me first. That and the beautifully and intricately carved stone floor and walls. It makes me appreciate the effort it must have taken to painstaking carve each one of the gigantic stones. I am met by the vision of the idol of Lord Ganesha as soon as I enter. He is carved in black stone, covered with a shaped plate made of silver, and coated with gold. With the elaborate floral adornment, the Lord looks impressive and benign at the same time. What I have always like about Siva temples is the fact that an entire family resides in each of them. It makes one feel as if though that while in some ways they seem so unattainable, yet they still remain a family; something each one of us can identify with in some way or the other. I see people in penance in front of the Lord Ganesha in atonement of sins committed since they last paid their respects to Him. I go around the sanctum once and move on to see the statue of the Lord Subramanya, Lord Ganesha’s brother. The brothers are fabled to have an ongoing friendly rivalry. The famous story about the rivalry is how they were to race around the world thrice with a luscious mango as the prize. With Lord Ganesha having a mouse as his celestial ride and Lord Murugan having a peacock the odds were hardly even. But Lord Ganesha won by circling around his parents thrice claiming they were his world. Smartness, a sense of humor and diplomacy held one in good stead among Gods as well it seems. This resulted in Lord Murugan stalking off to Payani but that is another story.

I moved on to be confronted with a tall brass pillar. This and the exit are the only places in any temple one can prostrate themselves in obeisance as every other spot in the temple is angled towards a God. Before I enter the Goddess Karpagambal’s sanctum, I must deviate a bit. I must emphasize that for anyone to visit this temple in a superficial and casual fashion would be a great mistake and injustice to the temple and oneself. For not only does this place house Gods and Goddesses; it also houses stories. Stories of people long gone but whose love, devotion and sacrifice are immortalized here. They may be represented by statues carved out of plain black stone as are all statues in this temple; but their songs and stories will be remembered for ages to come.

One story particularly touched me. The story is of Vayilar Nayanmar; one of the sixty three devotees of Lord Shiva who wrote songs in his praise. The Nayanmar, despite extreme poverty and deprivation, was so devoted to the Lord that he imagined building a temple in his heart. In his mind he painstakingly designed, laid the foundation and built the walls stone by stone and performed Pooja in this imaginary temple every day. A man with no money who built a temple for the Lord commands a place in the temple not because he lavished money; but because despite extreme poverty and the difficulties that come with it; he could dream of something which most people wouldn’t dare to. Dreams know no limits or obstacles; a fact all of us could do well to remember as we go on about our everyday lives.

As I enter the Goddess Karpagambal’s sanctum I see a vision of the passionate and loving Goddess who embodies heavenly beauty. Every Friday she is adorned with the finest diamonds and Gold jewellery, engraved with shlokas written in her praise. The walls too are covered with more sholkas. As I walk around the Goddess, shafts of sunlight fall through the stone ceiling. Tiny dust particles hang suspended in the air as if attracted to the sunlight and lend a calm peaceful air to the place. They were no doubt meant for light and ventilation in the chamber; a measure made redundant today by the fans and lighting in place. But all that becomes irrelevant when I gaze upon the Goddess’s beautiful face. My aunt stands as if entranced and suddenly I hear a childish voice singing. I turn to see a young boy of about ten singing in the praise of the Goddess. He is off key and pitch but his devotion cannot be doubted. His parents stand near him; eyes closed smile in pride and encouragement. I look around and I am surprised to find that I seem to be the only one to think it out of the ordinary. The priest walks to each and every devotee offering the prayer plate and they in turn touch the small lit lamp and offer whatever they can. I hear coins dropped and I see paper money as well. I look at the priest and I realize how faith in something makes the hardest life fulfilling. A temple priest must get up at 3:30 am every day, only to sleep at around 12:00 am the next day. They come from all over Tamil Nadu and change every 15 days so they can rest. He gives me Kumkum and flowers; something I have got at every God’s sanctum till now. My aunt and I sit to rest and I close my eyes. And I find that despite the clanging of bells and the noise of people jostling each other to catch a glimpse of the Mother, I am filled with calm. I think that all these people who come here must come to experience this very calm; something that possibly eludes them everywhere else. As we leave the Goddess’s chamber I turn back one last time to see her wondrous face.

Many people believe that to be granted a boon by Lord Shiva one must also pray to his consort. The idea behind this being that while Lord Shiva might be more powerful, His power is only notional without the blessing of his consort; the Goddess Parvati. This is embodied most beautifully in the depiction of the Ardhanarishwarar (Lord Shiva comprising one half and his consort the other).

As I enter his shrine I see a throng of devotees crowded around and I have to wait for some time to catch a glimpse of the Lingam despite standing on tiptoe. The Lingam is the symbol of formless aspect of Lord Shiva; which is another step towards realization of the ultimate all powerful spirit. As I circle the God I see the sixty three Nayanmar all lined up near the God that they spent their life in devotion to. Most have composed beautiful songs in his devotion. Each has earned his or her place because of the devotion, goodness and sacrifice demonstrated in his or her life. What strikes me is that at least here if not in the outside world recognition knows no caste barrier. The Nayanmars were from all walks of life and from all castes. The measure in the Lord’s eyes was Devotion and not the chance of birth. I wonder if people understand what they are meant to understand when they gaze upon the statues. I’m not sure I myself saw the significance until now to be truthful. But I do see it now and I am grateful for it.

As is the custom, I whisper in ear of the statue of Chandikeshwar; who will report to Lord Shiva that I have indeed come to pay my respects. I tell him that though it has been some time since I last came I hope I will come again soon so I can reinforce in myself all the positive lessons I have learned here.

I move on to continue around the temple which takes me to the Sthala Vriksha of this temple which is the Punnai tree. This sight warms my heart as at least some of the wisdom of our forefathers still remains. They knew that humanity and nature must coexist or rather humanity is only a small part of nature. Mother Nature in those times was revered in the form of scared groves near temples. There is no sacred grove here but we have not yet given up on the sacred temple tree. I am at once filled with sadness and hope. Sadness because there are innumerable small wooden cradles hung on the tree. Hung by couples who desperately want children but for reasons either known or unknown are unsuccessful. And hope because these couples see a glimmer in the distance and their faith aides them in their difficult and trying time.

My Aunt goes on to tell me about how and why Mylapore got its name. The story goes that once as Lord Shiva was relating a story to his consort, the Goddess Parvati; she was inattentive as she was captivated by a peacock strutting nearby. Seeing this and enraged by it he cursed her to live in the form of a peahen. So she prayed to him in this temple to come back to her and the village around the temple it was named Mylaipore (Mylai means peahen in Tamil). There is a small idol denoting this and also the main Gopuram is has carvings which tell us the story.

Having seen and enjoyed my experience at the temple we sit down in the expansive place meant for devotees to rest their feet. People already sitting mainly seem to spend this time in meditation. After a bit we get up to leave and my Aunt tells me to sit for a moment and thoroughly rub my feet before leaving. It is said that it is a great sin to take even dust belonging to Lord Shiva. I leave thinking that I may not be taking any of his wealth back with me but I am leaving with something priceless- hope, faith and a new perspective on one’s of this city’s most treasured landmarks.

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—About our writer:

Swetha is a software developer and works for a leading Indian IT company. She enjoys classical dance and reading and currently is a resident of Chennai.

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