Darshan

The prominence of the eyes of Hindu divine images… reminds us that it is not only the worshipper who sees the deity, but the deity sees the worshipper as well.

- Dianne Eck

In studies for his doctoral thesis the current writer observed (in the context, the correct word) that the Platonic cosmology as found in the dialogue called Timaeus is strikingly and surprisingly visual. It is surprisingly so because in every respect it is a thoroughly Pythagorean work, the Timaeus, and its central protagonist, Timaeus of Locri, is clearly being presented as a Pythagorean divine who is visiting Athens. One might expect a Pythagorean cosmology to be auditory in nature. The Pythagoreans are best known for their doctrine of the so-called ‘music of the spheres’ and the general proposition that music is at the heart of the cosmic order. And yet Plato’s cosmology – his distinctly Pythagorean cosmology – is entirely visual. The central elements, we are told, are fire and earth. Fire – which is to say light – shines upon earth – which is to say solid objects, and in this manner the visible cosmos comes into being. Timaeus explains it otherwise by the parallel terms ‘radiance’ and ‘solidity’. He makes it plain that it is a visible cosmos that the Demiurge constructs through these principles.

In accord with this, Timaeus’ account of eyesight takes a special place in the dialogue. He gives an account of how an internal light extends outwards from the eye and meets the external light reflected from solid objects by the ‘radiance’ of the cosmic ‘fire’. Moreover, as Timaeus – an astronomikos says - it is by the visual observation of the stars that all human knowledge is ultimately derived. Eyesight here, not hearing, is the primary faculty.

These matters have come to mind for this author at this time because he finds a compatible cosmological perspective implicit in the visual character of the Hindoo. Hindooism, as it is practiced, is an extraordinarily visual affair – bright, garish, variegated, multi-coloured, abundant – but more than that the very act of seeing is spiritual in itself to a degree that is quite striking to those not accustomed to it. This act of seeing is called darshan. One “takes” darshan. The word is used when, for example, one goes to see a king or a prince or a maharaja. One “takes darshan” with important authorities. By extension, one “takes darshan” with the gods. It is central to Hindoo piety. In English, we might say that one has an “audience” with a king or a prince or a maharaja, but “audience” is exactly the wrong word here. (Audience = audio, to hear.) Rather, for the Hindoo, seeing and being seen are the important things. The Hindoo world is extraordinarily visual. We might expect a tradition encapsulated by the sacred syllable AUM to be about sound and resonance. In fact, the religious cosmology of the Hindoo is intensely visual and based in the act of seeing. It has been so since the beginning. Its most primordial roots are in primal (Vedic) fire.

Darshan is what happens when the devotee goes to a Hindoo temple. There is a seeing. The devotee is there to look upon an image of the deity, and, moreover, to be seen by the deity in turn. Evidence that the latter has occurred is found when the priest in attendance places the tika – the vermillion mark – upon the third eye (forehead) of the devotee. Seeing, that is to say, is the devotional act. Just looking is the devotional act. For the Hindoo, this is a deeply tangible thing. In many ways, to look is to touch. And so, in turn, to be seen is to have been touched.

Indeed, this attitude is not exclusive to the Hindoo but can be regarded as more widely traditional. It prevails in the strongly auditory tradition of Islam, for instance. Seeing is touching – and thus we find the careful regulation of what is seen in, for example, the veiling of wives. Islam, like Judaism, and like Protestant Christianity, places emphasis upon the Word which is spoken and has, accordingly, a deep mistrust of the image. This was not so for Plato’s ancient Greeks, nor for other so-called “pagan” systems, and it is not so for the Hindoo. There is an often overwhelming profusion of images in Hindooism, to a degree that even exceeds the most image-laden manifestations of Catholic and Eastern Orthodox piety in the Christian faith. The Catholic and the Orthodox, though, are in some position to understand the Hindoo’s love of images. Their use of statues and icons is not dissimilar, but even so, not nearly so profuse and unrestrained. 

A good account of this is given in Dianne Eck’s small booklet from 1998, Darshan: Seeing the Divine Image in India. “When the Hindoo goes to the Temple, they do not commonly say, ‘I am going to worship’,” she explains, “but rather, ‘I am going for darshan.’” It means, as she says, that the devotee is going to “see the image of the deity – be it Krishna, or Durga or Shiva or Vishnu – present in the sanctum of the Temple.” And they go, as she says, “especially at those times of the day when the image is most beautifully adorned with fresh flowers and when the curtain is drawn back so that the image is fully visible.” This is the central act in common Hindoo piety. The deity is present in the image. “Beholding the image is an act of worship,” Eck relates, “and through the eyes one gains the blessings of the divine.”

Appreciating the importance of this assists the stranger in understanding the activities that are to be seen daily in a Hindoo mandir (Temple). Similarly, it is by this that we must understand the Hindoo practice of pilgrimage as it is undertaken by millions of souls every year. A Hindoo will traverse the sub-continent or travel high into the Himalayas in order to take darshan of his or her god – to see and be seen. It is an aspect of Hindoo worship that common Western portrayals of the Hindoo – chanting a mantra with eyes closed – overlooks. Mantras and interiority are part of the Hindoo order too, certainly, but in everyday experience they are not as important as darshan (“auspicious seeing”). In every Temple is the ancient Vedic fire pit. Images – iconic and aniconic – abound. There is an implicit cosmology of fire/light in which the faculty of eyesight is central. It is fully in accord with Plato’s account. When one goes to a Hindoo temple, this is mainly what is happening – the seeing of the sacred, and the being seen by the sacred in a world of fire and earth, radiance and solidity.

The present author recalls the mysterious “seeing” that he experienced at the Kalighat Temple in Calcutta only last month. At the very core of the Temple – the ultimate experience for devotees, many of whom have crossed the country in pilgrimage – is the terrible eternal gaze of the dark goddess of primordial night. Devotees, pushed and shoved in the tussle of the crowd, catch a fleeting glimpse of the goddess’ image. But, at the same time, she gazes back through the eyes painted upon her stone. There is a visual encounter. One sees. One is seen. That is darshan.

In this, let us note, there is an important contrast to be made with the tourist who is there with his own profane and uncomprehending forms of seeing as well as with the single mechanical and one-way eye of his camera.

Yours,

Harper McAlpine Black