Kali, Goddess of Destruction… (or, Kali Begins.)

Today, I went to Kalighat, to the temple for the goddess Kali in Kolkata.  This is known, I believe to be one of the largest temples in the city and is known to me as well from my previous time in Kolkata. I may have mentioned this before, but I lived for a few months in the late 1990s here in Kolkata, volunteering with Mother Theresa’s Missionaries of Charity.  During those months, most of my time was spent at Kalighat, her Home for the Dying and Destitute, which is located literally right next-door to Kali Temple.

Although I’ve now been in India for several days now, I have yet to revisit my old “stomping grounds” from my previous time here in Kolkata.  My sister and her boyfriend live in Gowriahat, which is in the southern part of town.  Kalighat is a little to the west of where they stay, and when I lived here, I had to take a bus there from where I stayed, a little further north in town.

Since arriving, however, I went to the Holi party in one unfamiliar part of town, spent a day laid out in bed with the dreaded-yet-inevitable Delhi belly, and although we planned to go to Suder Street to a bar I used to frequent that my sister and her friends like now, everyone decided to stay in at the last minute cause it was so hot and a someone else was sick etc…  So, up until this morning, I hadn’t been to any of the places in Kolkata that were familiar to me yet.

I got up and met my sister and her friend Alec at her house for some breakfast.  Then we headed towards the nearest auto rickshaw stand to catch a ride east to the Kalighat area of town.  Alec had been to that area of town once before so we got easily to the stop we needed and then navigated us along the main road until we found the sign to turn for Kali Temple.

Things had begun to look a little familiar to me, but as soon as we turned for Kali Temple, I began to know the area pretty well.  And as we moved further from the main street along the smaller side streets, I could see a tall building with dozens of sheets drying on the roof.  (For simplicity, I will refer to the Missionaries of Charity’s home as Kalighat and the temple as Kali Temple from now on).  When I worked at Kalighat, one task I used to help with was the wash. After cleaning the linens from the patients’ cots in the mornings and we would hang the sheets to dry on the roof.  I recognized those distinctive blue sheets!  We headed for that building.

As we approached Kalighat, so did a small funeral procession.  There was a woman being brought down the street on a small cot.  I’m not sure what exactly was going on, where they were taking her, but they set her down directly across the road from us, by the back of building.  Now that I reflect, I am not certain why I assumed she was dead.  One could suppose she was simply sick and being brought to the home, in hopes of being taken in, helped, or cared for.  However, I cannot imagine anyone in that area of town being so wealthy or so exalted by their neighbors  that they would have an entire bed carried in a procession (Mother Teresa herself maybe being the exception, but she earned that respect after decades)…. Maybe I’m not quite so terribly cynical about everything, automatically assuming a funeral and such; after all.  I seem to recall that there was some sort of a procession and the cot was decorated with flowers.

It’s kind of hard to tell sometimes on an Indian street what part of the furor and hullabaloo is going where and with whom.  There can be so many people and so much chaos, it’s hard to tell who belongs where and with whom and what’s happening at any given moment.  India can be very overwhelming, to say the least.  I hesitated for a moment, unsure that I should photograph someone who had died, whether people would find it offensive.  And the street swallowed up the scene…

 

We moved on to the front of Kalighat.  Oh the memories!  There was a sign up that said no visitors, and we asked the guy at the door who said the sisters weren’t in that day.  This isn’t where the nuns live, by the way, the Mother House is in a different area of town.  The Missionaries of Charity actually have many homes and shelters throughout Kolkata (and the world) where they work.  Kalighat was the first Mother Teresa ever opened, though.  It houses about 50 men and 50 women.  Most simply come to die, having been brought in off the streets already close to death, so they are able to be washed, cleaned, and die with dignity.  It may not seem like much, but it’s a rather big something when you have nothing.

So I took a picture in front of the building, something I didn’t have from before.  Back in 1998, when I volunteered here, I’d gotten permission to take some photographs, but much of my film was somehow ruined, lost or overdeveloped.  I am not sure exactly, I just remember I lost many of the pictures I took then.  It’s nice to have one.

Then, we turned and I immediately knew the way to Kali temple.  There was a little back route I knew around the side of Kalighat that took us to a back entrance of Kali temple.   We checked our shoes and then entered the temple.  I should tell you now that we weren’t supposed to take pictures in the temple at all.  Any of the pictures I post here were taken rather surreptitiously, and are a bit taboo/sketchy/chaotic.  However, it kind of fits the vibe of the temple, so….

The temple is a small square compound which has within it a few smaller altars, or mini-temples.  Kali is best known as the goddess of destruction, also of change, and time.  Most images of her involve her standing on the a body (usually Shiva, her consort), brandishing weapons and often holding a severed head in one of her arms.  Each morning, many goats are sacrificed to Kali, particularly at this temple.  (In the past, human sacrifice was practiced, but I believe it’s been at least a century or so….)  We entered into the temple courtyard and immediately got into line forming to enter the central temple where the big Kali idol is housed.  She is the “main attraction”, if you will.  There were two lines, one which moved quickly allowed people to simple swing by the outside and catch a glimpse through a window.  The other line took people through into the inner sanctum in smaller groups.  It moved much more slowly.  We got into this line and after a bit it was our turn.  We came into a room which I shall try to describe for you.  However, I don’t think I shall do it justice.

The inner room of the Kali temple was dark and loud.  (Oddly, the pictures make it look brighter than it was.)  The cries of both priests and supplicants bounced off of the vaulted ceiling, amplified and magnified into a cacophony of sound.  The room was hot and smoky, and the ground was wet.  Water ran under our feet (I hoped it was just water, but I rather doubt it, particularly based on later observations), gathering into one or two small drainage gutters which ran out of holes in the wall.  In the center of the room was a large cage.  Behind the grill/metal grate, was the idol.  The people were routed around the room, circling behind Kali arriving finally right in front of her before exiting the room.  Trying not to trip and slip, I came into the room and a priest pressed flowers into my hands and put a tikka of powder on my forehead.  He then expected money – a great racket they’ve got going on there, the people throw the flowers, the priests pick up the flowers and give them back to the people to throw again and charge them for it.  They also sell fresh flowers at the gate.  He asked Alec for more money and asked repeatedly for a larger sum.

There was a small space cleared in the center where people who had a special priest/tour guide could come to pray/toss flowers and where the priests gathered and opened the grate from the side to pull out the piles of flowers and incense.  One priest stood balanced up on the grate and the wall, waving a lamp with fire and incense burning, which he would sometimes tuck up into a small alcove in the wall.  Only the small entrance and exit were in this room. As that guy juggled a flaming lamp (Aladdin Genie-style) of oil and incense over our heads, I remember thinking, ‘Ah, now I understand how it can happen that you hear about a fire at a temple where some tens or a hundred people died.  No exits, badly ventilated.  Tons of people in a tiny room. Panic.  I can see it.  That’s gonna be us today.’  I said nothing to Jayanthi and Alec, but afterwards, I found out Alec had been thinking the same thing!

We came around to the front of Kali, and gave our flowers and proceeded out of the inner sanctum.  Whle waiting to go in the line had curved around the courtyard.  We had seen into some of the smaller altar rooms inside the outer temple wall.  At one people came and gave a donation while a woman sitting there poured what looked like coconut milk into their mouths.  At another, there appeared to be a shivalingham, or the Yoni and lingham, representing the male and female symbols.  In another, you could smell blood and we soon saw why.

There were people standing outside this area with several young goats. We saw a trail of blood along the floor from that room through the courtyard down to a corner shop in the outer temple wall where a couple of butchers were chopping furiously.  After their sacrifice, the goats were put to good use – immediately being strung up for meat.

My father used to work at Kalighat (he lived in Calcutta thirty years before I did, in the late 1960s when he attended seminary). He worked every weekend with Mother Teresa at Kalighat.  He told me that he could hear (and see from the building next door, I believe), so many goats being sacrificed each morning.  He said that the temple priests got to take home the goat meat.  I’m not aure about the situation here.  Either way, we were wondering how often that butcher had to sharpen his cleaver, he sure was using it quickly and frequently!

 

There were some sweet shops and flower shops to round out the rest of the inside area of the temple. We went through the quick line to see what we could see of Kali through the window as well.  It was just a quick glimpse but it was interesting to see how people clamoured forward to catch a glimpse.  All in all it was quite busy, overwhelming, and extremely interesting.  I had been thinking that it was a rather fitting beginning to my journey, visiting Kali.  Sometimes, in order to have new beginnings, we must also embrace endings.  The destruction of our old life and former ways leads to the start of a new way, fresh beginnings.  I was so glad that I had had the chance to revisit and remember the place that had such an influence upon my life and the person I have become.  So many of my memories of my time there, including a brief visit to Kali temple with my old friend Paul during that time are jumbled, vague, and/or chaotic.  I don’t know if that’s because Calcutta herself and my time here was so chaotic or if my experience was, but I needed that trip to Kalighat, the place of Kali.

We left the temple, and headed back through the Kalighat area.  We stopped for dab (coconut water drunk straight out of the coconut) and actually completely bought one lady out, drinking a total of 7 between the 3 of us!  Then we caught an auto back to Gowriahat.  I was meeting one of my father’s old classmates, now a retired Bishop, and his wife for lunch.  My sister needed to return to prepare for a performance that she and Aakash had at a club that evening.  More about that later!