This post, and the next, may come across as a bit ranting, in style. I think that I am allowed a bit of a rant.
I had gone to Vrindavan a few times in the last two years, and if you do want to see some pictures of the widows of Vrindavan, I can only encourage you to head over to the blog of a young lady who calls herself A Quirky Wanderer.
These are widows, largely from the state of West Bengal, who find themselves in Vrindavan and lie out the last years of their life here. Most of them are supposed to stay at Ashrams, however, they end up begging on the streets. Some of the younger ones find themselves prostituted in the city.
Vrindavan is known as the city of Radha, and Krishna. Radha is the muse, the consort, of the God Krishna. People in Vrindavan will, in a holier than thou manner greet you by saying, “Radhe Radhe”. The piety is skin deep, evidently.
This is a town with, they say, 5,500 temples. Do we need one more? To my mind, no.
Yet, a few days ago, our President Pranab Mukherji (from the same state as the widows) announced that he would like to build a new temple that is 220 metres high (or 140 metres high). The Qutub Minar in Delhi is 72.5 metres high.
In his asinine brilliance, he said that this temple is necessary for India to take it’s place in the developed world.
The question that I have, is that if we have so much money in India, shouldn’t this money be spent on helping the widows? Or, doing something else for the poor and uneducated of the country?
The widow above spreads the pallu of her sari, and supplicates for money.
Our brilliant people, however, feel that Temple Number 5,501 is more important.