:: November/December 2003 Volume 2/Number 6

Passage to (Little) India

By Laura Faye

"It is your faith that matters," Mr. Chand declares referring to a statue of Ganesh, one of the Hindu deities. He points out that what is most important when contemplating a deity is intension, visualization, and the passion in our hearts. Mr. Chand is not a swami or guru. He is a shopkeeper at Ravissant in Little India.

This enchanting neighborhood in Artesia is actually a close-knit community based on cultural values and these values spill over into the commercial arena. "It doesn't matter the cost," Mr. Chand informs us, "you can meditate on a stone as long as your heart is pure." Chand's shop, like many here in Little India, is packed with statues of deities, the thump of Bollywood movie music, and the heavy scent of burnt incense.

Reminiscent in some ways of Mother India, this thriving microcosm is Southern California's hub for Indian fashion aficionados and a wellspring for those inclined to contemplate life's drama from a spiritual perspective. From bangles to bedspreads, moong daal to mysticism, it can be found somewhere within these four teeming blocks.

Upon crossing the threshold of a shop, restaurant or temple here, a rich aroma of Indian spices and incense fills the air. The daily ritual of prayer, agarbhati, permeates the atmosphere. "Every morning when we open the store, we do puja," prayers which usually involve an offering such as flowers or fruit to the deities. "Every day is God's day." Here, "we think about God every day, every minute. Each shop, each house has a temple," Mr. Khurana of the Ambala Dhaba shop explains in his rich accent.

As we walk from shop to shop, I pause in Sari Niketan where two outgoing gentlemen become my self-appointed guides while others in the shop listen attentively, entertained by the conversation as they get on with their work. Owners and employees intermingle, shoot the breeze, joke, and cover for each other making it a mystery to determine who works where. My guides take turns showing me their shrines and explaining the symbolism of the multitude of Gods and Goddesses. They profess that accepting so many Gods and Goddesses helps them maintain tolerance. They point out that "you need your neighbor more than you need your family or friends sometimes." And indeed, the group of expatriates who gather in Little India hail from all 32 diverse states of India as well as Maldives, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, Nepal, and Pakistan presenting a harmonious fusion of language, costumes, and food.

This diversity is also apparent at Cottage Arts, another one of the multitude of quirky little shops. We head down a crowded alley and into a back room that is packed to the hilt with a resplendent collection of decorative pieces; it is sheer chaos. Now I feel like I am in India, where life spills over itself like the riotous tangle of a garden mad with blooms. My friend sifts through a stash of medieval weaponry, occasionally brandishing a sword, and a fawn-eyed couple of Indian newlyweds chat over a stunning-and-grandiose-yet-completely-monstrous-carved swing. Tapestries and fabric overlap on every available surface, the doors, thresholds, and even the ceiling. The joyful ambiance makes shopping a fine time to experience life's sacred celebration.

A few doors down, Babu Patel the owner of Neema Sari Palace explains the importance of keeping the Indian culture alive and passing it down to the area's youth. His was one of the first small shops to open here about 25 years ago at which time there were fewer than five shops selling mainly clothing, food and appliances from India. These few shops became the gravitational center of a network of organizations and support systems for expatriates needing assistance or wanting to preserve their culture. Patrons from all walks of life flocked to the area creating a flourishing business and social community. Today, Little India has expanded to over 130 businesses including markets, cinemas, jewelers, restaurants, music stores, and boutiques specializing in Indian products and services. Mr. Patel's sari shop is not only a place to buy Indian garments, but a headquarters where he produces and organizes programs intended to promote Indian culture: a children's dance competition, a beauty pageant, and music concerts.

"Of course the Indian clothes are more beautiful, more elegant," Patel claims without a flinch of doubt. Many here regard music, clothing, jewelry, furniture and material possessions as artistic expressions of God-given creativity. Every sari, for example, is one of a kind just as each person is a unique individual. The ancient Vedic philosophy that the Indian culture is based upon draws from the belief that there is only Oneness. There is only Self. If God is everywhere, then God is in the marketplace too.

The spiritual art of palmistry and Jyotish (Vedic astrology), for those interested in subjects more esoteric than transformational shopping, is a common feature of the blending of Indian commerce and culture. The locals recommend Ms. Sheela of Sheela Jewelers. A sign on her door requests a donation to an orphanage as payment for her readings. Ms. Sheela wears a ring on each of her long delicate fingers. Her mannerisms are elegant and graceful while her warm and open disposition conveys a simple sincerity. Ms. Sheela sets an auspicious time based on planetary positioning to come in for a reading, looks at both of my palms, and asks for a birth date. It turns out she is accurate about the details of my career and my personal life. Her readings last an hour or more, "some people have a lot of questions." For those who ask, she gives recommendations for wearing an astrological gemstone: which gem to wear on which finger to improve your health, wealth and overall well-being.

Just as the spiritual culture of Little India is found in the commercial arena, the temples serve both as houses of worship and community centers. These temples are social meeting places, alive with activity; bulletin boards, local magazines and flyers publicize a host of classes and workshops in music, singing, dance, yoga, and spiritual advice for all ages.

At Rhadakrishna Mandir and Sanatan Dharma Temple aarti, a ritual using lamps of fire passed from hand to hand to honor the deity, is performed daily. And during the several religious holidays that occur throughout the year, neighborhood temples are also home to throngs of merrymakers. We have the propitious opportunity of visiting the Rhadakrishna Mandir temple during the annual Navratri festival, a nine-day event in honor of the Goddess of Power, Durga.

We find a Durga shrine shaped like a miniature carnival ride turning leisurely in the center of the hall. The enticing blast of traditional tribal music pulses heavily. Revelers costumed in rainbows of swirling color spin and twirl in magical unison in counterclockwise circles around the shrine. Excited, I stumble into the melee of dancers and am rescued by a friendly couple that grabs me and generously indicate that I should imitate their steps. Blessings, prayers, and singing follow the dance as the celebration carries on into the night.

Interwoven into this spiritual, practical, and cultural web of the community in Little India is the knowledge that there is sacredness to life regardless of the task. Daily responsibilities are the spiritual practice, part of the festival of life's celebration. This way of life helps keep locals and visitors alike in a joyous frame of mind.

 

Laura Faye