Holy men, holy women 2

JAN 20 — According to Wikipedia, the “… Sri Mahamariamman Temple was founded by K. Thamboosamy Pillai in 1873 and was initially used as a private shrine by the Pillai family. The family threw the temple doors open to the public in the late 1920s and eventually handed the management of the temple over to a board of trustees.

“This is the oldest functioning Hindu temple in Malaysia. It is also reputed to be the richest in the country. The temple was originally sited somewhere near the Kuala Lumpur Railway Station. It shifted to its present location along Jalan Tun H.S. Lee (next to KL’s Chinatown) in 1885.”

Wikipedia is the only documented source that I can quote from, as I search for the temple’s history. Is that a good thing? To use Wikipedia as a credible source of information?

The temple, situated near the edge of Chinatown (Petaling Street), is always busy. Tourists and devotees of the Hindu faith throng it. As one is not allowed to enter the temple with shoes, these are scattered and strewn on sidewalks. A small room at the entrance of the temple serves as a cloakroom. For a small fee, one can park his or her shoes before entering the temple.

It is a temple I have passed many times during my jaunts to Petaling Street. Like many Malaysians, a house of worship not of our faiths merited only a glance, or maybe a look that barely lasted five minutes. I have visited temples before, as a guest to witness friends getting married, but that was it.

My request is entertained in a very straightforward manner. I was led to the administrative office, and that is how I met Mr K a week later. Our meeting had been arranged by the temple officers. Mr K spoke English, and would be the most suitable guide for me, I am told over the telephone.

Mr K has lost too much weight, he tells me with flourish. My first impression of him is that he is a careful man, who thinks about his words first, not for the sake of clarity and weight, but because he wants to use the right words, the correct words.

He has just recovered from a strange illness, he tells me. Before he was taken ill, he had the body of a bouncer. Now? He’s got to fatten up.

He asks why I am there to see him. I tell him I am conducting research on religions in Malaysia. He doesn’t seem to be able to grasp my profession as a writer, so I say I am a student of comparative religion.

“Are you a Christian?” he asks.

“No. I’m a Muslim.”

“Okay.” He is silent for a while and then he pipes up. “I don’t like your religion. And I do not like your Hari Raya Haji. You kill animals. I am vegetarian.”

Humans must respect all living things, and not harm or kill animals and plants for their gain, he explains. No, no, he didn’t agree with our sacrificing.

“In Hinduism, all gods are one. And temples are the houses of God, so our people can come to pray in peace. And when we come to temples, we must be pure and clean. A husband and wife cannot have relations the night before a temple visit.”

I nod.

“The roh is sent by God to purify ourselves. Our body is nothing. It is where sin resides, that is why we cremate. Once burned, the sin is gone.”

“Are you a believer, Mr K? I ask.

“Yes, yes, I am.”

“So why haven’t you take the next step? To help out or live on temple grounds?”

“I did. I worked and lived at this very temple for 17 years. But I also have a family to feed. How can you do that when you live in a temple?

“In my religion, we are allowed to ask from our God, Allah, for providence. As long as there is good in our wishes and we repay back in goodness,” I tell him.

He stares at me, as if not understanding the concept.

“Oh no. This is not the way. This is our fate. Our fates are decided by God. If you are born rich, you will be rich. That is why I have two jobs. My fate is to work very hard.”

A silence falls again.

“To make a temple,” he offers, “the pillars must be odd-numbered. And the temple must face the sun. This temple’s dome is an antenna, the receiver of the universe,” Mr K says. And then he asks me, “What kind of presence do you feel here?”

“Eh? As in Godly presence?”

“Yes.”

“Ah… a feminine one…?” I guess wildly.

I am correct, he beams. The Sri Mahamariamman Temple is the home of Shakti, the wife of Lord Shiva.

Lord Shiva is one of Hinduism’s main deities. He is also known as The Destroyer, and considered as a Supreme God. Shakti is his wife.

Mr K stands up. He has to go, he has work to do. Perhaps we can talk another day?

“I think we’re going to be good friends, Mr K,” I smile.

“Oh, no, no, no! My wife has a heart problem, I do not want any trouble.”

“Mr K, I said I am going to be your GOOD friend, not girlfriend-lah!”

“Oh! Ha ha ha! Okay. I will teach you about my religion. Then you will know my people.”

“I’m going to call you, Mr K. “

“Okay.”

The meeting ends, and I am relieved. It was a short meeting but at least I had managed to meet one person who agreed to meet me.

This “documentation” of Malaysians and their faiths has been challenging.

I have been rejected, waived away, and there have been moments when I wondered whether I am insane to have embarked on this project. There are deadlines to meet.

I had underestimated how much fear and wariness others would have towards me, and all because I’m Muslim.

* The views expressed here are the personal opinion of the columnist.