The Lord of the World
The eternally imperfect Jagannath reminds us that we could discover divinity even while being mortal beings.
Last week, I took a break from work and drove across (Zoomcar service was better than my expectations) the coastal state of Odisha.
I met legal shrimp farmers and illegal prawn farmers along my way. (You can take a break from work, but your work won't take a break from you). I also cavorted with the crocodiles of Bhitarkanika and the Irrawaddy dolphins of Chillka Lake and got to see first-hand how the local administration does a phenomenal job that would probably make urban sustainability professionals envious, managing the fish population sustainably with the livelihood demands of the local fishermen.
The best part of my trip was the incredibly beautiful darshan of Lord Jagannath in the enchanting town of Puri.
In Indic thought, the concept of Darshan is deeply fascinating. For it is not just you meeting the divine. Darshan unfolds when the divine meets you where you are and touches the deepest core of your being.
I don't know about you. When you live the aquatic life of an entrepreneur breathing the waters of uncertainty day in and day out, it is quite natural to turn spiritual.
If the ancient human spirit were to conjure the most beloved God which entrepreneurs could deeply meditate on, Lord Jagannath would come the closest.
Which God remains close enough to mortal humans, reinventing himself continuously (because he is made of neem wood), and lovingly goes through all the mores and chores of mortal humans, including falling sick and staying in quarantine (during the Ratha Yatra), and if that weren't enough, even having his share of marital problems, when he leaves his wife Lakshmi in the main temple, much to her consternation, and then sheepishly attempts to please her with sarees and sweets?
What makes Lord Jagannath endearing to entrepreneurs is that he is eternally imperfect, standing blissed out, with deep, circular eyes that throw the shackling human binaries of tribal-classical, standing with his brothers dressed up in an endearing soot-black form, smiling sheepishly that makes you want to sing the ashtapadis in deep shringara rasa, much like Jayadeva once did with such sensuous and erotic lines that would make us go white-faced with our modern sensibilities.
Standing in the crowded sanctum sanctorum of this ancient temple that has withstood so many invasions and yet thrives and throbs with life, I lost my sense of time, with my heart brimming with fulsomeness, adoring these lovely gigantic brightly painted idols smiling at you, as if to ask, "Aren't you happy we are here at the nick of time for you?"
As the legends say, Lord Jagannath was born in a liminal space, at the end of Dwapara Yuga, before the commencement of Kali Yuga, when Lord Krishna's heart floated in the ocean and was transformed into Nilamadabha that was found by a tribe in Odisha. I can't wait to find another excuse to go back to Odisha and bring home a neem wood idol of Lord Jagannath!
Have you discovered the best Lord suited to the lives of entrepreneurs?