Amidst the surge in visitors to Hindu temples and the subsequent transformation of their sacred nature, a critical examination of the evolving dynamics between teertha and tourism becomes imperative. Teerthakshetra, traditionally viewed as a profound pilgrimage demanding spiritual dedication, now contends with an influx of tourists seeking leisure and offbeat experiences. The sanctity of pilgrimage sites such as Vaishno Devi, Badrinath, and Kedarnath is jeopardized as the spiritual essence of teertha gets diluted in the pursuit of tourist destinations. Simultaneously, the purpose and design of Hindu temples, or devasthanams, add another layer to the narrative. These temples, conceived as potent energy centers, are meticulously crafted to embody the Vedic vision and facilitate inner realization for devotees.

However, the contemporary scenario witnesses a shift, with temples being perceived as tourist centers, driven by economic motives, resulting in the dilapidation of smaller kshetrams. As we explore these shifts, the question arises:

How do these changes impact the intrinsic spiritual dimensions and interconnectedness of these sacred spaces?

The influx of masses into Hindu temples and the subsequent surge in temple visitors have brought about a transformation in the nature of the deities and the kshetrams. Beyond the mere online buzz, a pressing matter demands attention – religious tourism. Let’s delve into the essence of teerthkshetra. A teerthkshetra is not a casual jaunt; it’s an arduous pilgrimage demanding traversal of ancient sacred grounds, even those nestled in the farthest reaches such as Badrinath and Kedarnath. This is no frivolous escapade; it’s about the sanctity of both body and soul. A profound spiritual yearning propels individuals to undertake extensive journeys in pursuit of purity.

Now, let’s dissect the concept of tourism. It’s a rudimentary query, and we all grasp its meaning. Tourism, in essence, revolves around leisure, fostering a carefree ambiance. Tourists seek pleasure, opting for popular and bustling destinations. For millennials, tourism doubles as an escape from the stressful urban existence and the polluted concrete jungles that modern cities have become. Consequently, ‘off-beat’ locations have sprouted across the nation, catering to overstressed individuals seeking relaxation and merrymaking. Unfortunately, teerthkshetras meant to be sought only by the truly devout have also been listed along with scenic locales and cultural centres for the tranquility and culture-seeking tourist.

From the state’s perspective, tourism is indispensable. It serves as a revenue source for administrations, stimulating local economies. Tourists inject money, fostering hospitality sector growth and creating employment. There’s little concern for the sanctity of the place; the focus is on creating a favourable environment for incoming tourists.

Now, let’s juxtapose teerthkshetras and tourism. The only semblance lies in the act of travelling. Teerthkshetras are not meant to be transformed into mere picnic spots. They symbolize the divine, embodying strict rules for visitors where human conscience converges with the divine. Unlike tourism, teerthkshetra entails adherence to stringent guidelines; it’s not a free-for-all. Acharan, or conduct, forms the fundamental framework of a teerthkshetra.

Yet, the erosion of teerthkshetra’s sanctity is evident nationwide. Looking at the nature and composition of the throngs of travelers descending upon teerthkshetras like Vaishno Devi, Badrinath, and Kedarnath, it is evident that not all are propelled by spiritual aspirations. For many tourists, pilgrimage sites morph into just another ‘offbeat’ destination or exotic tourist spot, diluting the sacred essence of the teerthkshetra in the process.

Now, let us look into the purpose of Hindu Temples, devasthanams. A Hindu temple serves as a harmonious synthesis of various art forms, embodying the ideals of dharma, beliefs, values, and the cherished way of life under Hinduism. Positioned as a sacred link between humanity, deities, and the Universal Puruṣa within a consecrated space, the temple embodies the triple knowledge (trayi-vidya) of the Vedic vision. This is achieved through a unique architectural plan rooted in astronomical numbers, intricately mapping the relationships between the cosmos (brahmaṇḍa) and the individual cell (pinda).

Subhash Kak interprets the form and iconography of the temple as a natural extension of Vedic ideology, specifically related to the concepts of recursion, change, and equivalence. Susan Lewandowski further elucidates the underlying principle that permeates a Hindu temple – the belief in the interconnectedness of all things. Beyond its visual and symbolic richness, a Hindu temple serves a deeper purpose: to encourage reflection, facilitate the purification of the mind, and initiate the process of inner realization within the devotee. The specific approach to this process is left to the individual’s school of belief, acknowledging the diversity within the Hindu spiritual spectrum.

Hindu temples, conceived not as mere congregational places but as potent energy centers, are meticulously designed according to Agama Shastras. They often mirror the spiritual composition of the human body, incorporating all Koshas, Sharira, and Chakras. The essence lies not in the technicalities of the design but in the profound purpose – the act of beseeching for realization, not a transaction.

The design of these temples serves to initiate, intensify, and stabilize individuals into the Sadhna paddhatis, or forms of the deity they are dedicated to. The symbiosis between Sadhna paddhatis and deities is intricate, albeit not absolute. Yogis, recognizing this, selectively visit temples aligned with their chosen path or deity, fostering a steady flow of Sadhakas into every small Kshetram.

Traditionally, this ensured a continuous influx of seekers into even the most nondescript temples, maintaining energy flow and balance within the Kshetram. Smaller temples, strategically positioned in a grid with larger Kshetrams, created a positive energy feedback mechanism. However, the contemporary scenario has shifted the paradigm.

In the present context, temples are often viewed as tourist centers, avenues for revenue generation, and accelerators of mundane satisfaction. This perspective, driven by greed and deprivation, has led to the prominence of certain temples within a Kshetram while overshadowing others. The rise in footfall in one temple and the subsequent decline in others disrupt the energy balance, transforming the positive feedback grid into a predatory one.

The consequence is the dilapidation and poor upkeep of smaller Kshetrams, reflecting governmental neglect – a tangible manifestation of the ethereal turmoil. The solution, it is argued, lies in reinstating Sadhana and yoga into daily life and entrusting temple management to devoted individuals. This, it is believed, will rectify the imbalance over time.

The plea is to recognize that Indian civilizational and Dharmic ethos offers a genuine alternative to capitalism – not by eschewing prosperity or glorifying poverty, but by presenting a path to prosperity rooted in genuine spiritual dimensions.

Furthermore, the concept of an anthology of Yogis associated with specific temples suggests that each visit contributes to the construction of the temple within oneself. Contrastingly, contemporary attitudes involve mentally taking away an energy brick from the spiritual edifice to satisfy personal greed, contributing to the degradation of both the spiritual and physical aspects.

The recent resonance with the idea of brick donation for the Shri Rama Mandir underscores a subconscious connection to the notion that these temples, these bricks, belong to the people themselves – questioning why anyone else should handle them. In contemplating Swami Vivekananda’s reference to “Daridra Narayana” there is a suggestion that he might have been alluding to spiritual poverty, a condition that persists today.

While acknowledging that the status of temples as energy centers cannot be empirically proven, it is asserted that the realization of this truth can be experiential. The hypothesis remains that the degradation of spiritual edifices leads to the physical decline of temple structures, underscoring the profound interconnectedness between the ethereal and tangible aspects of these sacred spaces.

In 2019, a seismic power shift occurred in India, with movements such as CAA, Sabarimala, and Rama Mandir reshaping the nation’s identity. The unmistakable message was that the new Indian identity must embrace the Hindutva essence. However, the turn towards temples becoming social justice battlegrounds is worrisome. Disregarding ancient temples in favour of shiny ‘corridors’ that appeal to the new-age tourist that calls itself spiritual while displaying deep disdain for dharmic and shastric tenets, is dishonesty towards the very reason teerthas exist.

The political class too, more often than not, rejects the esoteric and occult, embracing atheism that views temples as mere community halls for social science experiments.

The answer, then, seems clear as day. Only the act of freeing Hindu temples from the vice-like grip of the state will provide the much needed spark of life and rejuvenation.