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MONROEVILLE, PENNSYLVANIA, May 2, 2004: This is a marvelous article on the Hindu-Jain temple here in suburban Pittsburgh, complete with excellent photos and outstanding audio of the temple puja and explanations by the priest. The article, an example of what “good press” can be, reads:



Every morning, on a hilltop in suburban Pittsburgh, God awakens. All around, traffic zooms, construction booms, cell phones ring, cash registers ching. But on this tree-ringed hill in Monroeville, inside the exotically sculpted red stone edifice that is the Hindu Jain Temple, all is peaceful and incense perfumed. No people are evident, save for the chanting seeping from behind the carved wooden doors of one of the five mini temples. Inside it, a priest is performing the morning ritual of bathing, dressing and feeding two of the deities who “live” here. Then, at 10 a.m., the doors open. The priest puts a conch shell to his lips and blows two long blasts that rise in the middle and fade to quiet.



So begins aarti, a sort of spiritual wake-up call. This is the ceremony that opens the temple each day and closes it each evening. Aarti (sounds like AR-tee) also is done on other important occasions. It can seem complicated, but this particular priest, Shri Suresh Chandra Joshi ji, explains it most simply: As “the humbling” of man before the One God that Hindus believe is all gods — is everything. That’s why it’s workable, if traditionally unusual, to have the Jain mini temple with the Hindu ones — two religions under one roof — and why people of all faiths are welcome here.



The priest (panditji) wears a long kurta top and a scarf over the flowing dhoti wrapped around his waist. His feet are bare, and his forehead bears a vertical streak of red kumkum powder and a yellow daub of sandalwood paste.



He lights five cotton wicks stuck in ghee, or clarified butter, on a silver lamp. Waving the lamp in a circular pattern before the deities with his right hand and rhythmically ringing a bell with his left, he begins a chant in the language of Hindi that sounds like: “Om jaya jagadeesha hare, swaami jaya jagadeesha hare, bhakta jano ke sankata …” He continues the chant as he walks, clockwise, around the room, stopping to wave the lamp before the statues of the deities. Each is a different aspect of the one God he lovingly addresses in his prayer, which translates: You are my mother, father. Where can I go to take shelter? … At times, the chant becomes a sweet song. You are the Perfect Supreme Self. You reside inside everyone’s heart. …



The prayer, the conch blasts and the flames are all meant to dispel darkness and bring in the light. It’s like saying “Good day” — not just to the temple, but to Pittsburgh, to all the universe. “Not only for one, but for everybody,” Joshi ji kindly explains after the ceremony, which he completes in a few minutes, punctuating it by prostrating himself and touching his forehead to the floor. Oh Lord, everything is yours. It is yours and I am offering it to you.



Aarti is performed morning and night, seven days a week, and has been every day of every year for two decades since this temple was dedicated. (The temple goes back farther, to 1971, when the idea for it was conceived in the basement of an Indian store in Squirrel Hill.) The temple will celebrate this 20th anniversary on Saturday with a number of special ceremonies, including a dramatic mahayagna — a holy fire offering — for world peace. But this auspicious day will both open and close with aarti. Just like every other.



HPI readers might wish to convey their thanks to the authors for the respectful coverage: Bob Batz Jr. at bbatz@post-gazette.com or (412) 263-1930 and Steve Mellon at smellon@post-gazette.com.