Reducing devotion to unbearable cacophony

On the first day of the Vikram Samvat 2083 (the Hindu new year), Igot up alittle early.

- Shashi Shekhar

In the red-hued sunrise, I remembered poet Kalidas. In tusa hara, he beautifully narrates the spring season:

Drumah sapushpaah salilam sapadyam, stree-yah sakama pavanah sugandhih/

Sukhaah pradosha divsashch ramyaah, sar-vam priye charutaram vasante

(The verse means: Oh beloved! everything has turned so beautiful during spring. Trees are laden with flowers, ponds are full of lotuses, air is scented, evenings pleasant and days are delightful.)

With a lot of enthusiasm, I entered my housing society's park to meditate but was unsuccessful. Why? An unbearable decibel assault was on from the Noida-Greater Noida expressway that is close to the society. A group of devotees were moving with the “flame” of the goddess as the period of Navratra was on, expressing their religious fervour through boom boxes blaring music at 120+ decibels.

I am a practising Hindu. My grandfather used to be a dandi swami (an ascetic of the Advait Ven-dant tradition). My father was a poet, and discourse on religion and literature within my household and outside shaped my early childhood. I thought of confronting these “decibel devotees”. I wanted to ask them, “Do you have any idea what the sacred flame represents?

Our ancestors started the tradition of carrying a lamp to the temple to let knowledge reach all and sundry and not be confined to a fortunate few. Invocations such as