
July is strictly not a happening month on the festival calendar, in fact it8217;s a sacred slowdown that8217;s mostly about fasts, including the Shivratri that happened last Thursday coming up is the Shashti fast on July 23, which is also apparently a mangal muhurat or favourable day for starting new projects. The best part of this Shivratri is that it unclogs the northern highways of lakhs of 8216;8216;kavadiyas8217;8217;, the village bucks sent at this time of the year to fetch Gangajal for their local temples. But often, their sacred mission does not include 8216;8216;nagrik8217;8217; behaviour.
As a corrective, perhaps the new dispensation could safely teach the secular message of the mangala kalasha at both urban and rural schools. The culture it springs from is Hindu, but it seems unlikely that anybody would object if they understand the meaning. It is not about 8216;8216;religion8217;8217;. Instead, it is wholly about 8216;8216;spirituality8217;8217; in the most abstract terms. The Hindu personal deities are no part of the kalasha, it is addressed wholly to the Formless All-Pervasive One, a concept most beautifully explained by the late Oriya scholar Dr Jiwan Pani.
The mangala kalasha or 8216;8216;auspicious pot8217;8217; is usually made of earth, though these days a lot of households use copper, brass or silver, which is allegorically incorrect. The pot is filled with water, in which a small sprig of mango leaves is kept, crowned by a coconut. The purpose of setting up a mangala kalasha is to connect with the Formless Divine Spirit. The fragile earthern pot symbolises our perishable physical body. The water inside symbolises the vital life force within us. The mango leaves most poetically convey that life is both sweet and sour, exactly like a mango, that most perfect fruit of our soil.
In kalasha terms, the mango message is that sorrows, like sourness, actually enhance life as learning experiences, they don8217;t detract from it. The coconut8217;s hard, shiny green-yellow outer layer stands for the experience of our five senses. The next layer of fibrous husk is blind faith or superstition. Tear it away and you hit the hard shell of the ego. Crack that, you touch the sweet white kernel of truth. The coconut water is the birth of new realisation. Beyond is nothing, just the scent of the coconut. This 8216;nothing8217; symbolises the 8216;8216;everything8217;8217; that is God.
By breaking the coconut, we invite God8217;s Spirit to fill our souls, we show that we want to tear away the behavioural and perceptual layers that separate us from God. So you see, the mangala kalasha is not 8216;8216;religious8217;8217;. It belongs to all of us, a secular act of poetry that any Indian of any faith may safely use without 8216;8216;betraying8217;8217; his religion of birth.