Rising Shrines : Hindus in Southern California Join to Build a Spiritual Home Away From Home in Calabasas
Venkataraman Sambasivan of Northridge, his wife, Uma, and their two daughters requested a special ceremony to be performed in honor of Lord Siva, one of the main deities worshipped at the Venkateswara Hindu temple. On a recent Saturday afternoon, the family and 10 other devotees gathered in front of the black granite idols: An elipsoid symbolized Siva, and a statue of a human body with an elephant’s head represented Siva’s son, Ganesha.
The priest, girded from the waist down in a white cloth, chanted, scooped some water with a sea shell, poured it onto the idols and splashed it over the small congregation. Next, he anointed the idols with oil and powder, offered flowers to Siva, then a paste made of brown sugar, bananas and honey. Women wore their best saris of bright-colored silks and gold lame.
Was this India, or the United States?
Chitra Sambasivan, 10, had it figured out. “It’s both,” she said. “I see my friends, I know it’s the U.S. But I’ve been to temples in India several times, and it’s also just like this.”
The Venkateswara temple in Calabasas is the only Hindu temple in Southern California. It was built by the Hindu Temple Society of Southern California, a nonprofit organization formed in 1976 to build the religious edifice in the ancient Chola architectural style typical of southern India.
After nearly $2 million in construction costs and 11 years of effort--the temple is two years behind schedule--the Society’s members are putting the finishing touches on their project. The 26,000-square-foot temple has been open to visitors since the first shrine was erected, and will be officially completed Oct. 11. On that day, the priests will symbolically purify the building. And from then on, the Society hopes the high towers rising white and ornate above the oak trees of Las Virgenes Road will be a magnet for the 10,000 Hindu families who live in the greater Los Angeles area.
“We come here every week for at least two or three hours,” said Venkataraman Sambasivan, 39, a cardiologist who came to California in 1979 from the Madras province of southern India. “The temple is an important part of life in India. You could say Hinduism is a way of life; it brings spirituality and peace. Life has ups and downs, and when the downs come, you can pray and meditate here, it’s like getting charged.”
Word about the temple is spreading. Parveen Kakar, 21, who arrived from northern India last month to complete his engineering studies at California State University, Northridge is delighted that there is a temple nearby. “I haven’t seen the temple yet,” he said, “because I just got my driver’s license. But I will go as soon as I have a car and whenever I have time, to be with other Indian people. Also, southern Indian temples are said to be the architectural splendor of India, so I’m real curious to see that place.”
The temple stands on 4.5 acres of land that 30 members of the Hindu Temple Society bought in 1977. Another group arranged for $1.3 million in loans from the State Bank of India to cover the construction costs.
The structure consists of nine shrines on two levels, including the main sanctum for Lord Venkateswara. The society’s members dedicated the temple to Venkateswara, a manifestation of Vishnu, because he blesses people with all their material desires, said Vasan Srinivasan, the Temple Society’s secretary.
All shrines face east, as dictated by the rules of temple architecture, and all buildings are covered with small columns, niches filled by statues of Hindu deities, convoluted animal shapes, swans, lions with bulging eyes and cheeks, luxuriant leaf and floral patterns.
Each part of the temple symbolizes a part of God’s body. “The main sanctum upstairs,” R. Parthasarathy, the temple manager, explained, “represents the head; the open prayer hall in front of it is the stomach, the entrance tower is the feet. At home, there are many other corridors representing the neck, the heart, and so on, but here we don’t have space.”
This temple might not be as grand as the ones in India, but it was built with the same Old World craftsmanship. S.M. Muthiah, an architect--or sthapathi from Madras, did the original design and selected the Indian craftsmen to come here and do the artwork. Ravi Varma, a Los Angeles architect, revised the designs to suit American building regulations.
At one point 20 craftsmen--or silpis-- from India were on the construction site, sharing a trailer for living quarters and working to fashion the myriad statues and figurines that decorate the temple. As the work nears completion, 13 silpis remain, ready to move on to the next job.
Madhavan Achary, 52, is one of the silpis. He has been working in this country for four years at similar temple sites in New York, Houston and San Francisco. This is the last stop for him, and he looks forward to heading home to his small village near Madurai in the Madras province.
A Pupil at 12
Through a translator, Achary explained in his Tamil language that he was 12 years old when his father began teaching him the rudiments of temple architecture. These rules, written on palm leaves thousands of years ago, are passed on from one generation of silpis to the next.
The silpis’ training relies on memory, not blueprints, explained Srinivasan. “There were four silpis up there,” he said, pointing at the cupola that adorns the top of Krishna’s shrine, “one silpi on each side, each working independently, no drawings, no blueprints. The first time I saw this, I became nervous. But when they were finished, I was impressed; everything was symmetrical.”
Although faithful to ancient traditions, the silpis also appreciate modern technology. Madhavan Achary conceded that a few things made his work easier: an electric saw, quick-setting cement, and new scaffoldings that can be erected and taken apart rapidly.
Still, building a temple isn’t like building a condominium. The delicate artwork was one factor that delayed the completion date by two years. The chief architect, who is involved in many other similar projects around the world, was not always available when needed. And there were bureaucratic headaches--obtaining permits from the planning commissions and temporary work visas for the silpis from the Immigration and Naturalization Service.
But S.K. Durairaj, 44, a cardiologist in Sun Valley and president of the Temple Society since 1977, has learned to view the delays philosophically.
“I think God creates his own house for himself. We are trying to be instrumental, that’s all. Besides, temple projects in India can take decades to build and are never considered completed. We don’t have any other projects now, but we may develop a children’s park, landscape the area, run a religious school.”
The Temple Society also faced opposition to its ambitious project by the Monte Nido Valley Property Owners Assn., a group of 140 local residents whose goal is to “preserve the tranquility of the area,” said Jim Wrigley, the association’s president. The group argued that the temple would bring too much traffic to the dangerous intersection of Las Virgenes Road and Las Virgenes Canyon Road. When the temple won approval from the planning commission, the association dropped its opposition. Wrigley has since stopped at the gate of the temple to look on. “Personally, I’m impressed with it,” he said. “It’s lovely work.”
Not everybody agrees. Barbara Jones has lived for 10 years in the trailer park about a hundred yards behind the temple. Her Hindu neighbors are quiet and keep to themselves, and she has nothing against their religion, she said. But to her eyes, this type of architecture doesn’t suit the landscape. “What bothers me the most,” Jones said, “is that it was very rural here. We do this with all our land. I imagine it will be one big city from here to San Diego one day, and I weep for my grandchildren, for the world they’ll live in.”
It’s Here to Stay
But the exotic edifice is here to stay, as are the three Hindu priests, R. Narasimha Bhattar, S. Nagarajan and S. Krishnama Charyulu. They arrived from India about two years ago and are expected to make their permanent home at the temple, in the air-conditioned rooms downstairs. When these living quarters are ready and the necessary visas are obtained, the priests’ families will join them.
Donations and fees charged for special ceremonies help support these residents of the temple. A wedding ceremony, for example, is the most expensive and costs $250, while the Abishekam, or bath ceremony, arranged for the Sambasivan family costs $101.
As last Saturday afternoon blended into evening and the mountains around the temple turned purple, the Abishekam drew to a close. According to Hindu astrological calendars, this was a good day to worship shiva: it was the beginning of a new moon and the stars and planets of the galaxy were in the right position.
Devotees walked past Shiva’s shrine, and the tamarind paste and vadai-- spicy doughnuts--first offered to the deity was now shared. Children milled about while grown-ups relaxed and chatted. They were at once in India and in Calabasas.
