Thanks to Kerouac, Ginsberg and the Beats, notions of karma
and dharma had become common currency, but words like moksha,
bhakti, and rocana
were new to me. Terms like these didn’t lend themselves to
straightforward translations because they were ideas that did
not have an equivalent in our limited western consciousness.
One concept that did make sense was darshan:
the act of divine seeing, of revelation. This was what Hindus
went to the temple for: to see their god, to have him or her
revealed to them. The more attention paid to a god, the more
it was looked at, the greater its power, the more easily it
could be seen. You went to see your god and, in doing so, you
contributed to its visibility; the aura emanating from it
derived in part from the power bestowed on it.
It
was an easy idea to grasp because of its secular equivalent,
the worship of celebrity. The more celebrities were
photographed, the stronger their aura of celebrity became.
I’d once seen David Beckham step off a coach at La Manga in
Spain
. Obviously, I’d seen
photographs of him before and now the cumulative effect of
having seen all those photographs was making itself felt. The
flash of camera lights made him radiant, glossy, divine. I saw
him in all his Beckhamness and Beckhamitude….
It
is not enough to perform a god-like action. It must be seen
– ideally, by the gods. I wasn’t sure of the extent to
which darshan was a
reciprocal idea. Of course the gods needed to be seen, but did
they also like to watch? Were they spectators too? Did they
look at us with all the love and awe with which we – or some
of us – regarded them? If that was the case, then the
earlier comparison with Beckham and celebrity was faulty. For
the one thing celebrities are not free to do is to look.
The sunglasses they are obliged to hide behind are the
symbolic expression of the blindness to which they are
condemned by always being looked at.
-- Geoff
Dyer, Jeff in
Venice
,
Death in
Varanasi
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