Lighting a Lamp to Traverse a Soulful Journey

As I sit in reflection, I find myself suspended between two worlds: one, the fast-paced, technology-driven landscape of the 21st century, and the other, the soulful, rich traditions of India that have nurtured my very being in the 20th.

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The changes I’ve witnessed—transforming from the grainy tunes of the gramophone to the sleek brilliance of an iPhone—are not just technological leaps but profound societal shifts that have shaped the collective consciousness of our times. Yet, amidst this whirlwind of progress, I find solace in the ancient, in the sacred.

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One such tradition is the simple yet profound act of lighting a lamp. To the untrained eye, it may seem a mere ritual, a flame flickering softly in the dusk. But to those of us rooted in the wisdom of the ages, it is a bridge between the earthly and the divine. Lighting a lamp is not just an act; it is an invocation.

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It is the calling forth of Goddess Rajarajeshwari herself, the embodiment of Durga, Lakshmi, and Saraswati. Each flicker of the flame brings to life the deities within the lamp—the lotus seat of Brahma, the central pipe that houses Venkateswara, the oil-filled portion that holds Rudra, and the wick that is Maheshwara, culminating in the brilliance of Sadashiva at the wick’s end.

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But beyond the cosmic symbolism, it is what the lamp asks of us, especially of women, that strikes a deep chord within me. The five faces of the lamp, representing affection, intelligence, resoluteness, patience, and caution, are not just virtues but aspirations that women throughout generations have carried within their hearts.

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In a world that often tries to dim these qualities, the lighting of the lamp serves as a reminder—a reminder to nurture the mind, the seat where the oil resides, and to let our inner flame, our soul, burn bright.

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Yet, I can’t help but feel a pang of sorrow when I see some, especially the younger generation, perhaps unknowingly, forsake this sacredness. I was recently struck by an image of a woman, beautifully dressed, but in attire so divorced from the ethos of this act—shoes still on, standing as she lit a lamp.

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And it made me wonder, are we, in our haste to embrace the "new," forgetting the essence of who we are? Are we trading the depth and sanctity of our traditions for a fleeting sense of modernity?

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It is not about the attire, nor even the shoes, but the mindset that this reflects. Lighting a lamp is an act of reverence, a moment where we are meant to connect deeply with our soul, to offer our best self to the divine. And yet, how often are these moments taken for granted, hurried through without a thought?

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For me, each time I light a lamp, I feel an awakening. It is as if, with each flicker, I am reminded of the timelessness of our traditions. I feel the presence of those who have walked before me, lighting lamps in homes, temples, and hearts across centuries.

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And with this flame, I light my intellect, allowing it to burn through the distractions of the world, the noise of modernity, and the superficial allure of the West that often blinds us from our roots.

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There is a saying that tradition is not the worship of ashes, but the preservation of fire. And so, in this ever-evolving, continuously changing world, I choose to preserve this fire. For when I light a lamp, I am not just honouring the divine— I am keeping alive the essence of who I am, of where I come from, and the soul of a tradition that has withstood the test of time.

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I hope, as we continue to embrace the wonders of the 21st century, that we do not lose sight of the soul that has carried us here. That with every innovation, we also light a lamp—one that keeps us connected to the divine, to our culture, and most importantly, to ourselves.

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Let us always light our lamps with respect, reverence, and understanding, for in doing so, we keep alive the flame of our heritage and the brilliance of our spirit.