Atop a column, in a corner of the Durbar Square in the ancient city of Bhakapur (where there are reputedly as many temples as dwellings, and as many deities again as inhabitants), is a statue of King Bhupatindra Malla in a gesture of eternal piety, his painted eyes transfixed upon the golden gate of his Royal Palace.
The gate opens into an inner courtyard which leads to the Royal Temple, the threshold of which I may not cross, for a large red sign above the temple entrance reads 'Hindus only'. A young Nepalese soldier in blue combat fatigues slouches against a wall nearby, perhaps to enforce the rule.
'You cannot go in,' says my guide, 'but come, you can see.'
So we huddle by the entrance and peer into stillness of the temple courtyard, the walls and pillars each adorned with carvings and idols of exquisite workmanship, all softly aglow in the late afternoon light.
'I am a Hindu,' says my guide, 'but even I can only go in on special days. If I go to the temple with nothing, it is informal to meet the god. So we bring gifts…' Here she indicates an offertory plate piled with petals and daubed with coloured tika pastes of different kinds. 'On the holiday of Dasain, many pilgrims come with gifts of oxes, and the priests cut them at the same time.'
'You sacrifice oxen?'
'Yes. Not cows – the cow is holy. But – buffaloes. The buffalo is a symbol of -'
'Strength?'
'No – demons.'
Ah.
And I shudder a little shudder at the thought of man and beast pressed into the now deceptively peaceful space, and imagine the chatter and chants of an excited crowd; the terrified bellows of the buffaloes; and then the awful bloodletting - the dreadful cries as the beasts are struck, the wild spurts of blood, and the temple floors awash with gore…
Over dinner back at the hotel restaurant (at the very aptly named 'Explorers' Café'), I meet Rajendra Shrestha, the director of the Kala Mandapa, the Institute of Nepalese Performing Arts. Encouraged by his affable air and prodigious knowledge of Nepalese culture, I venture to ask about Dasain, and learn that the festival commemorates the victory of Durga over the buffalo demon Mahishasura.
'But even Durga is a bodhisattva – a being of compassion,’ Rajendra explains.
Durga, the terrifying goddess of destruction, a being of compassion?
'Yes. It is compassionate to save people from evil. It is compassionate to punish evil, as a parent punishes a misbehaving child.'
Perhaps, but the unslakable bloodlust of our deities – of whatever creed – never fails to dismay.
The gate opens into an inner courtyard which leads to the Royal Temple, the threshold of which I may not cross, for a large red sign above the temple entrance reads 'Hindus only'. A young Nepalese soldier in blue combat fatigues slouches against a wall nearby, perhaps to enforce the rule.
'You cannot go in,' says my guide, 'but come, you can see.'
So we huddle by the entrance and peer into stillness of the temple courtyard, the walls and pillars each adorned with carvings and idols of exquisite workmanship, all softly aglow in the late afternoon light.
'I am a Hindu,' says my guide, 'but even I can only go in on special days. If I go to the temple with nothing, it is informal to meet the god. So we bring gifts…' Here she indicates an offertory plate piled with petals and daubed with coloured tika pastes of different kinds. 'On the holiday of Dasain, many pilgrims come with gifts of oxes, and the priests cut them at the same time.'
'You sacrifice oxen?'
'Yes. Not cows – the cow is holy. But – buffaloes. The buffalo is a symbol of -'
'Strength?'
'No – demons.'
Ah.
And I shudder a little shudder at the thought of man and beast pressed into the now deceptively peaceful space, and imagine the chatter and chants of an excited crowd; the terrified bellows of the buffaloes; and then the awful bloodletting - the dreadful cries as the beasts are struck, the wild spurts of blood, and the temple floors awash with gore…
Over dinner back at the hotel restaurant (at the very aptly named 'Explorers' Café'), I meet Rajendra Shrestha, the director of the Kala Mandapa, the Institute of Nepalese Performing Arts. Encouraged by his affable air and prodigious knowledge of Nepalese culture, I venture to ask about Dasain, and learn that the festival commemorates the victory of Durga over the buffalo demon Mahishasura.
'But even Durga is a bodhisattva – a being of compassion,’ Rajendra explains.
Durga, the terrifying goddess of destruction, a being of compassion?
'Yes. It is compassionate to save people from evil. It is compassionate to punish evil, as a parent punishes a misbehaving child.'
Perhaps, but the unslakable bloodlust of our deities – of whatever creed – never fails to dismay.
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