For some time, it had been one of my local dream adventures to visit the Naag Mandir in Nagigi outside Labasa, the seat of the beloved and much-revered growing “snake” stone associated with the Hindu god Shiva.
As a once-upon-a-time student of science, I know stones could grow bigger and heavier, a process that takes a long time.
But to associate it with animals and the supernatural is not something I was readily keen to entertain.
So in between covering government ministerial trips to the far-flung corners of Vanua Levu, I found myself some free time to experience what I had only seen in photos and continues to attract thousands of people to Nagigi each year.
Also, at the back of my mind, I knew there was no real harm in sampling a Hindu worship experience inside a mandir.
How could a place where worshippers go to have darshan be risky? I quietly asked myself.
The word darshan means “to see” the divine, a process facilitated by worship and involving the offering of prayers, singing, meditating and engaging in age-old rituals.
So a fifteen-minute car ride whisked me away from the bustling Labasa Town to rustic Nagigi, via the Wainikoro Rd, a distance of roughly 13 kilometres.
You can’t miss the famous temple because you will virtually eyeball its yellow-painted walls and bright red finish the moment you zoom past.
Like most sacred places of Hindu worship, everyone was required to remove their footwear and walk into the inner parts of the temple buildings barefooted.
“No flip flops too,” I was firmly reminded at the door where six people had already left their footgear.
The removal of shoes is considered a show of deep humility and respect for the in-house deity.
For me, it reminded me of being dragged to church during my childhood days and told to do the same as I was on holy ground.
At the heart of the mandir was a black basalt stone in the form of an unyielding cobra’s hood.
The reptilian formation sat on a tiled platform, its “neck” collared by long multi-coloured garlands.
As soon as I stepped on the main floor, my nose got tickled by the overpowering scent of burning incense sticks.
I knew instantly I was in a spiritually inspiring place synonymous with oriental worship.
As an asthmatic, the scent of agarbatti was one of those smells that I often disliked. But on this occasion, I had no choice but to savour every moment as it presented itself.
I was told the use of incense was a ubiquitous religious norm and it featured during many forms of worship.
That is, burning incense, believed to help purify the air, symbolised the presence of the deity.
I heard bells tolling and saw a priest uttering words I couldn’t understand. Later, I was ushered inside through gesticulations and walked behind the snake formation.
There I bumped into a worshiper, unexpectedly. Unbothered and probably under a trance, she had a plate and burning incense in hand and chanted something while making her pradakshina.
Sitting beside the temple caretaker, Rajendra Prasad, I enjoyed a good view of all the worship peculiar rituals.
I was told the ritual of walking clockwise around a shrine or sacred object three times (pradakshina) was carried out with a meditative intention.
The word pradakshina, is a Sanskrit word meaning “to the right”, hence the clockwise movement around the stone.
The one thing that bothered me was the sight of fruits strewn on the counter tiles, plates of uneaten food like my favourite halwa, and the overwhelming confetti of brilliantly hued petals.
“Worshippers bring flowers picked from their compounds and offer it to their gods. These are considered special by the deities,” Mr Prasad said.
“People who come in here also fast. They abstain from meat,” Mr Prasad said.
It was one day before the annual Mahashivaratri, so those coming in were strictly on a vegetarian diet, just like the one my late grandmother had for life.
“Tomorrow evening, this place will be filled with people singing the bajhan,” I was told.
I felt guilt run up and down my spine. Whether fish counted as a type of meat, I didn’t know. All I remember was I had lots of it the previous night.
Devout Hindus fast regularly or on special occasions like annual festivals. Sometimes they may not eat at all, eat once only or live on very simple food like nuts and fruits.
Hence on fasting days man not only give up food but save time and conserve energy by eating either simple, light food or abstaining from eating so that the “mind may become spiritually receptive and pure”.
I remember reading the autobiography, “My Experiments With Truth”, sometime back. Mahatma Gandhi spent a considerable amount of his life fasting as a way of harnessing his inner strength.
The discipline assisted Gandhi in propagating control over his human senses and carnal desires. It trained his mind to have peace and good judgement.
According to Shree Sanatan Dharm accounts, the growing stone was discovered about 100 years ago at the temple spot by a Hindu by the name Algu.
He was also believed to be the first person who worshipped the stone.
At the time the temple area was overgrown by trees,
shrubs and grass.
The stone was first worshipped under a mango tree before it was given shelter for the first time on the eve of independence.
Then the stone was only about six feet.
It grew to a height of 8.5 feet by 1972 and has since been growing.
The temple, which has undergone a few extensions already, will continue expansion to accommodate the growing rock.
There were several attempts to remove the stone to make way for road development in the colonial days. One man even died for trying to dig up the snake stone.
After his demise, the stone was left untouched.
As I spoke to Mr Prasad, devotees kept spilling into the building. I realised on each new day the mandir was a melting pot of people from all over Fiji.
In the three months after Fiji’s borders opened, Ms Prasad said, the Naag Mandir received over 10,000 visitors, making the place a real wonder in the province of Macuata.
“When you come in here, you bring in all your problems and believe the gods will grant you your wishes,” said Pundit Suresh, who was the priest in charge around the time I visited.
“You come here with a clean heart and your mind must be at peace.”
I sat there trying to make sense of his remarks, my mind drifting to Russia’s full-scale assault in Ukraine and its impacts on innocent civilians, especially the children.
I wondered why the situation in Ukraine had escalated when peace could be easily achieved through divine worship.
Then, I realised how fortunate I was to be in a place of peace and in a country that, despite its tumultuous political history, was still relatively peace-loving.
As another devotee clanged the brass bell suspended from the roof, a young family had placed themselves smartly in front of the small statues that paraded in front of the stone.
The family had come from Sydney, Australia. They brought with them some fruits, flowers and milk which, as I watched in anticipation, was poured on a black phallic formation called the shiva linga or lingam, a Hindu symbol representing Lord Shiva, the destroyer.
The ling consists of three parts, representing the Hindu pantheon of gods while its image from the top resembles the union of the male and female in procreation.
At the back of the temple, near the snake formation, was an open door that led to a flight of 108 steps.
Devotees took fairy steps while ascending and descending the stairwell, making sure their feet landed on each step.
This pilgrimage of sorts took them to a shrine situated at the top of the temple before taking them down again 108 steps later.
At the climax of the series of rituals, just before leaving, some went back to the priest to get cotton thread tied around their wrists. I noticed there were a few colours to choose from but the most noticeable was vermillion.
Later I was told what the different colours meant. The red cotton thread often got mixed with yellow or orange and its role was providing protection and warding off misfortune and evil.
In a short while, what I had not known for decades, I was able to observe and absorb in a matter of minutes. All it took was making the conscious decision to visit a mandir and talk to people.
I am in a better position today than last week to understand the use of graven images and idols in religious worship.
Better still, I am better able to appreciate my Fijian brothers and sisters of Indian descent and tolerate their religion because I know the meaning of most, if not all of their rituals. I encourage others to do the same and learn about other religions.
If it wasn’t for my trip to the northern sugar town of Labasa, I wouldn’t have gone through such a learning experience as I encountered at the Naag Mandir.
All I could do now is tick another heading from my bucket list of adventures and look forward to fulfilling next.
- History being the subject it is, a group’s version of events may not be the same as that held by another group. When publishing one account, it is not our intention to cause division or to disrespect other oral traditions. Those with a different version can contact us so we can publish your account of history too — Editor.
