The God Is Resting — Epoche A2
My bus reached Kumbakonam at two in the afternoon, and I walked straight to the great temple near the tank. The carved doors were shut. A painted board gave the hours: open from half past five in the morning, closed from noon until four. A priest sat in the shade of the gateway, and I asked him, a little rudely, why a temple needs a lunch break. "The god is resting," he said. He was not joking. In the big temples of Tamil Nadu the deity is served like a living king. The priests wake him before dawn with music. They bathe the image, dress it, and bring cooked food, which is offered to the god before anyone else eats. After the midday meal the doors close, the lamps burn low, and the god rests. At night there is a last ceremony, and he is put to bed. I came back after four. Bells, camphor smoke, a queue of families; covered vessels of food were carried in for the evening offering. The temple was awake because he was. My own bus left at six the next morning. The temple had already been open for half an hour.