I can’t believe it! Incredilbe !ndia and I’m two for two on dud temples. This sort of thing doesn’t happen in this part of the world. The first dud is beautiful in a carnivorous flower kind of way. It is the Lotus Temple. I thought it was Buddhist or possibly Hindu, but I was wrong on both counts. It is a Bahai temple (I know there’s supposed to be an apostrophe in there somewhere I’m just not sure where). First of all I have to admit that it’s pretty impressive if you’re into late 2oth century architecture. It’s this enormous white marble pointy structure that you know looks like a lotus because you have been prepared in many ways for it to be so. As we waited in line to enter the sacred structure, a woman who was mercifully downwind and difficult to hear was trying to convert everyone standing on line, in a low key manner, but still this was the first active recruitment effort I’ve experienced in a while. Although we were all sworn to silence the better to meditate, there was something uninviting and unsettling about the 1000 squeaking wooden chairs and the hundreds of people struggling to keep themselves and their children silent. I walked around the edges and was mighty surprised to see some fire and brimstone messaging—all in English—from the Bahai who promote interreligious tolerance. I was quickly ready to leave and walk the unkempt park grounds that surround the place—much more my style.
The very next day I went to try once again—my third try!—to visit Lakshmi at her temple. This is another one of those hard to get places in the middle of nowhere (an underlying theme in this town, which I continue to love anyway). After going through that bastion of colonial British architecture (Connaught Place--eewww), we finally figured out the right road to take. A few kilometers and twists and turns later, we found ourselves in front of a pink and white birthday cake appearing temple covered in swastikas. Hmm. Ok not REAL swastikas, ones that go in the opposite direction but for western eyes it’s all the same. Go through the procedure of the metal detector, a frisk if you look suspicious, check your shoes because you must be barefoot to enter a temple and join the crowd begging Lakshmi (goddess of wealth you will recall) for a change in life circumstances. The deities were of the slightly pink and slightly blue variety but not the elegant ones carved in older temples (alas this temple too is less than 20 years old). These representations reminded me of dolls offered as carnival game winnings. I think some very powerful Hindu lobby managed to get this place on the Delhi tourist map. Yet, when all hope was I lost, I happened to look out of the back of the temple—and a miracle appeared!!!
It is unclear whose brainchild Lakshmi Temple World is, but man it is good!!! The park of Lakshmi Temple is a somewhat abandoned theme-park, blue lined pools with fountains that have never functioned, the water dark and milky (perfect breeding ground for malarial mosquitoes—hey, I’m a public health professional!), surrounded by a garishly painted fiberglass menagerie. The Disney-esque cobra fountain was my personal favorite and of course the obligatory elephant and tiger, but the black bear and rhino were clearly the imaginings of someone who has only ever heard of these beasts as described by return far-away travelers. Another prized item in the park is the light-whirling electric fortune telling and weight measuring scales placed prominently, though randomly, throughout the park. My fortune told me that I am creative, energetic, generous and true in love (Genelia© Northern Scales Co, New Delhi fortune number 0223389).
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