A Journey to the Temple: An Unexpected Encounter
In a moment of uncertainty, I found myself at the Mahalaxmi temple in South Mumbai, guided by my husband, who is a believer. It was the summer of 2022, and I—dressed in tight blue jeans and a black Puma shirt, with a heavy mangalsutra adorning my neck—felt like a typical Mumbaikar. On the outside, I played it cool, but inside, I was hoping for the Goddess’s attention.
As a newly married couple, we had plenty of wishes to share with Goddess Mahalaxmi, but that evening, our minds were consumed by my visa situation. Just three weeks into our marriage, my husband was set to fly to San Francisco without me in a few days. The news from our visa agent was grim—I could be waiting up to 22 months to join him due to the lengthy post-pandemic processes at the American Embassy. Faced with such a dire situation, even a skeptic like me found myself standing in a long line at one of the busiest temples in the city, just before the significant Maha Aarti.
The temple was packed, with devotees crowding close together, each one trying to outdo the other in their prayers amidst the ringing bells and chants. The air was a mix of sweat, mogra flowers, incense, and Mumbai’s salty breeze—a sensory overload that made me dizzy. With my husband far away in another line, I felt my patience slipping and thought about making my exit.
Suddenly, a hush fell over the crowd. It was the moment for intense worship that many had come to experience, and a new sound broke through—the sound of a woman in the adjoining line. She was caught in a trance-like state, invoking a haunting melody as she danced, her arms raised to the heavens. The sight was captivating. She swayed wildly, seemingly possessed by the spirit of the Goddess, letting go of her everyday worries.
The people around her, stunned for a moment, began to approach her one by one, gently touching her feet and head, as if seeking her blessings. At that moment, I realized that they saw her as a channel for the Goddess—a temporary embodiment of divine energy. This phenomenon, known by various names across Indian languages, signified that for those few minutes, she was liberated from social norms and could express herself freely.
But soon enough, her wild dance faded. She returned to herself—adjusting her clothes, tying her hair, and settling back into her role as an ordinary woman. The crowd that gathered around her slowly dispersed, feeling awkward in the wake of her performance.
Before I could truly reflect on what I had seen, my husband rejoined me, pulling me closer to the front. As our focus shifted back to the garlanded idol of the Goddess, my eyes wandered and caught sight of the woman again. This time, she was simply chewing something and scrolling through her phone—so human and normal. When our eyes met, there was a silent understanding between us. She smiled knowingly, aware of the struggle I faced but encouraging me to let it go. In that split second, I felt a connection that transcended beliefs.
As the evening ended and people began to leave, my thoughts drifted back to the practical tasks at hand. We hurried to pack, and soon my husband was on his way to America. To my surprise, my visa arrived just four months later.
This experience reminded me how much we seek connection, hope, and, unexpectedly, how faith can emerge even in moments of doubt.
