BENGALURU: Since we know the word ‘temple’ as ‘Eswaran’s residence’, if you object to the term ‘Nireeswaran temple’, kindly keep your misconception aside. Know that a place of worship, manifesting the notion of Nireeswaran, has come into existence. It is the chronicle of its origin that is narrated here, in honour of all virtuous souls. With the grace of Nireeswaran, whoever reads the story of this avatar with due sincerity shall have his internal grime cleansed and attain salvation.
A place of origin is usually referred to as ‘Moolasthanam’. So, it is only after paying due respect to the street that was destined to be the Moolasthanam of the Nireeswaran should one embark on the story of that avatar. The street was known as Deva Theruvu, aka God’s Street. From its very name, it was evident that even a blind man faltering about on that street would invariably end up in a temple. Among the populace living around the temple sans boundary walls, there was only one who couldn’t see. The rest had sight, and a few possessed good insights too.
Speaking of insights, it would be pertinent to remember the three friends — Antony, Bhaskaran and Sahir — who were very different from the others in this regard. The trio, whose houses and minds were close to one another, lived in Deva Theruvu, maintaining untouchability vis-a-vis the temple and exhibiting open distaste for its rituals. Their hot young blood, always bristling against something or other, was the force that bound them together.
Providing grist to that youthful proclivity to rebel were many topics, from religion and politics to the share market. Even so, if Antony, Bhaskaran and Sahir felt it wrong that the street, where different sections of people cohabited, had a name that smacked of a specific religion, there was something right about it. The trio had already exhibited a genius in imparting an abrupt twist to straightforward things, even in selecting a name for their clique.
By picking the first syllables of their names — Antony, Bhaskaran and Sahir—they had coined the term ‘Abhasa Sangha’. In the local tongue, it meant ‘the fellowship of the debauched’. The stone platform around the tree on the roadside was the nerve centre of the Abhasa’s operations. They assembled there every evening, and shared strong, tenacious opinions about everything under the sky and occasionally even above it.
Many of the natives frequented the spot to while away the dusk. It was a habit of yore. Groups of both old and young would seat themselves separately. Some would perch on the stone platform, while others reclined on the lush grass or chatted sitting atop the nearby boulder. Young children, hanging on to the forefingers of their grandfathers, would make their appearance and scamper around merrily.
Excerpted with permission from Nireeswaran by VJ James published by Penguin Random House