[Editor’s Note: This and forthcoming parts are the report of pilgrimage visits made during October 2022.]
Naini Devi
I arrived on the 8th day of Navratri, a festival worshipping the nine forms of Shakti/Devi – the Divine Feminine. The streets in Nainital were full of cars and people; it was mass tourism at its height – all with domestic tourists as Nainital is home to the renown Naini Devi temple. Naini Devi is associated with Nanda Devi, who takes her name from the mountain (or vice versa), and also with Durga. Nainital is also a Shaktipeeth site. According to legend, Shiva’s first wife, alternately called Umma, Sati, or Parvati, (depending on legend/purana) was the daughter of the King of the Himalayas and her father was upset that she married someone who he didn’t find suitable for his daughter. She married him anyway, but when a major festival came around and all the relatives were supposed to be present, Shiva wasn’t invited. This upset his wife so much that she threw herself in the fire. Shiva was devastated and went into a rage, which allowed the demon Taraka to cause havoc in the world. Vishnu, the one responsible for maintaining proper working order in the cosmos, took it upon himself to jolt Shiva out of his psychosis and cut up the deceased’s body spreading the parts all over the Indian subcontinent, so that Shiva would once again fulfill his mission of creating constant change. Sati’s eyes landed in Nainital, so a temple was built to honor the Goddess. There are differing accounts of how many Shaktipeeths there are, some say 51, others 54, yet others over 70, and a few say 108. I have found that there are local Shaktipeeths that are not recognized as official sites but are considered to be the place where part of Sati’s body fell by the local populace. This is especially true in Nepal. Nothing in Hindu legends is simple, and I’ve had to learn that my Western way of wanting a succinct logical response to questions in regard to Indian mythology or history is an exercise in futility. There are multiple truths as there are multiple gods as there are multiple ways of approaching and responding to situations.
The Naini Devi Temple lies directly on the shore of the lake, with the Goddess watching over the waters and surrounding hills. Upon entering the site there is a large orange sculpture of Hanuman, which I found particularly odd as Nanda Devi kicked him off her mountain. When I asked whether I had mistaken the figure for someone or something else, I was assured that it was in fact Hanuman and that people in the region are partial to his worship, so he has his own temple at the entrance to the site. When one goes down a few steps to the temple grounds, Hanuman is directly in front to the right, the place to put one’s shoes to the left (shoes are not to be worn in any of the temples), and the lake lined with priests offering tikas (the red and yellow paste on the third eye) and blessings in front. There is an arch with bells hanging down. One is supposed to ring the bell to alert the deity of one’s presence, a temple form of knocking. Off to the left, is the main single temple for Naini/Nanda Devi, and then at the end the major temple with five Goddesses, with Durga in the middle and Sakand, Kusahmanda, Selputri and Parvati on the either side. While I was there, the priest was performing a fire purification puja which was wonderful to watch. At the end of the hall with the five deities and up a few steps are four rooms with idols. There were three rooms that were dedicated to Krishna and Radha and one to nine deities, including Lord Golu, a local demigod. I was fortunate to be able to take pictures and videos of the puja and site, except for inside the Naini Devi Temple. She is not to be photographed.
Nanda Devi
The last time I saw Nanda Devi in her mountain visage, she repeatedly played peekaboo in the clouds, but even then, I did get lucky and was able to get a good photo of her. She is a very impressive mountain. The story goes that Nanda was a beautiful princess of the early Chand Dynasty who ran away to escape a Rohilla prince who desperately wanted to marry her. Her father refused to accept him as his son-in-law, so Rohilla started a war and won. To save herself, Nanda climbed up the sacred mountain. The mountain became known by her name as she became one with it.[1] She is the patron goddess of the mountain and region and is recognized as a destroyer of evil. The mountain has two peaks along a ridgeline, the one that is higher is Nanda, and the lower eastern summit, not quite visible from Garhwal, is Sunanda, her sister. Nanda Devi is an angry goddess, which is understandable given her history, and is said to be an avatar of the Goddess Durga. There are no shrines to Hanuman on the mountain because when he was looking for herbs, he came across one in the Dunagiri Mountains that he couldn’t identify. He then broke off a piece of the mountain and carried it off with the herb to Sri Lanka without receiving permission from the Goddess. She took affront at his disrespect and announced that anyone uttering Hanuman’s name in her region would be punished. This story is the reason for my confusion in the Naini Devi Temple in Nainital. To get to the Nanda Devi temple in Almora one needs to wiggle through the motorized traffic on the Mall Road and then head to a pedestrian zone up a small hill that leads to the temple. The temple is on a platform high enough that one can see beyond the houses to the surrounding hills (and, I’m guessing, mountains if the clouds had cleared). The woman caretaker was quite nice and performed a special puja for both Nanda Devi in the main temple and for Shiva in the back. From the main shrine, one exits left to circumambulate the temple and there are images of Durga, Ganesha, Krishna and Radha along the way. At the back is the site dedicated to Lord Shiva, depicted through his Shivalinga. What is quite amazing about the Nanda Devi temple, is that it is an oasis of peace amidst the noise, dirt, dust, traffic, and mass of humanity that otherwise crowds the streets. All the reading I’ve done about Almora over the years suggested it was a beautiful serene hill town. What perhaps used to be is now long gone. It’s now a busy congested mess, which is why the atmosphere in the temple is so doubly striking.
[1] My article “Open, Please: Persian & Islamic Tales of Women Rescued by Mountains,” relates similar stories from Central Asia. https://www.academia.edu/87479656/Open_Please_Persian_and_Islamic_Tales_of_Women_Rescued_byMountains
(To be continued)