My Mandir My Home

It is not lost on any of the world’s seven billion people that the past year and a half has likely been the most challenging period of their lives. Whether the pandemic caused death, damaged health, forced employers to shed workers, separated families from loved ones, or demanded that we stay home from our weekly spiritual services and engagements, collectively, the world knows each of us sacrificed something to the plague.

But incrementally, slowly, parts of the world are returning to the normal they once knew. In our own country, this has meant resuming our daily and weekly routines, including returning to our place of worship, our spiritual home, our temple. For me, as with countless others, “My Mandir My Home” is not just a fun, catchy slogan. It is the reality of our lives. And at the moment when I entered my Mandir this past Sunday, that reality struck me like a thunderbolt. I felt overcome by joy. Before I even saw a murti or offered a prayer, I saw a place buzzing with warmth; friends reacquainted with friends, bows of respect, people enjoying a laugh together after so many months of isolation. I saw the connection, and I felt it myself. I took so much for granted in the pre-pandemic days, including my fellow worshippers; they are friends, but we are also bonded by our shared beliefs, shared commitment and dedication to our faith, and our shared love for our Guru and God. This connection unifies us, and that unity brings its own level of satisfaction and fulfillment. And it was so good to feel that once again. Our wonderful and enlightening online services were tremendously rewarding in their own way. But virtual anything means you have lost a personal connection, which is irreplaceable, as are the personal and spiritual rewards that accompany it.

So if the seeing of old friends and satsangis was uplifting, then I must tell you that seeing the murtis of Bhagwan Swaminarayan and our gurus was a balm that washed over and healed my soul. Upon seeing these murtis, I felt an overwhelming love, and I felt loved. Tears came to my eyes. I even pretended that some wayward debris was bothering me when I wiped the tears away. I don’t know if others felt what I felt, but I assume many did. And I will confess to not wanting to appear emotional. But I was. I was moved and inspired simply by being in the Mandir, seeing friends, doing darshan, and offering prayers, but it was all also a little bit overwhelming — and only in the most positive and stirring ways. I had forgotten what we had lost for the past thirteen-plus months, and the return of all of these things all at once impacted me more than I had anticipated.

My children were happy to see their friends in some context other than nightly virtual video game get-togethers. They enjoy the spiritual and social aspects of their time in the Mandir in equal measure. It strikes me that as time goes on and some of the personal disagreements, differences and maybe even conflicts resurface, this time in isolation that we’ve just gone through can serve an important purpose. The memory of these many months of near solitude and separation from Our Mandir Our Home, coupled with the overwhelming gratitude I felt at returning to this part of my life, will remind me that whatever disputes exist or may arise are transient and can be overcome. What matters is the connection with our Guru and our God, love, and the link to our fellow community members. Having lost it all for a time, I never want to lose it again.

Rakesh Patel, Washington, DC
Attorney