Why are Bhagwan Jagannath, Balbhadra and Ma Subhadra’s idols made of wood?
Nana’s eyes lit up, pleased by his grandson’s observant nature. “Ah, Tarkik, you’ve touched upon another beautiful aspect of Bhagwan Jagannath’s divine play. Like many things in our Sanatan Dharma, this too carries a deep metaphorical meaning.”
They found a quiet spot near a small roadside shrine, its wooden Jagannath murti garlanded with fresh marigolds. The sweet scent of incense mingled with the salty sea air as Nana began his explanation.
“Tell me, Tarkik,” Nana continued, his voice gentle but filled with wisdom, “what floats on water?”
Tarkik thought for a moment, then replied confidently, “Wood does, Nana.”
“Exactly!” Nana exclaimed, his eyes twinkling. “Now, think of this world as a vast ocean – an ocean of material existence. We call it ‘Bhav Sagar’ in Sanskrit. We’re all trying to cross this ocean to reach the divine, aren’t we?”
Tarkik nodded slowly, beginning to see where his grandfather was going with this.
Nana smiled and said, “Bhagwan Jagannath manifests Himself in wood here. Do you know why?”
Tarkik shook his head, his eyes wide with curiosity.
“It’s Bhagwan’s way of telling us: I will help you cross this ocean of material existence,” Nana explained, his voice filled with reverence. “Just as wood floats on water and can carry us across, Bhagwan Jagannath, in His wooden form, promises to carry us across the ocean of worldly existence to the shore of spiritual realisation.”
Tarkik’s eyes shone with understanding. “So Bhagwan Jagannath chooses to appear in wood to show that He’ll help us… float above our worldly troubles?”
“Precisely, my boy!” Nana beamed with pride. “Bhagwan Jagannath, in His infinite compassion, takes this form to reassure us. He’s saying, ‘Hold onto me, and I will keep you afloat in this world. I will guide you safely to the other shore.’”
Tarkik stood in awe, gazing at the wooden form of Bhagwan Jagannath in the nearby shrine with newfound appreciation. What he had initially seen as simple wood now appeared to him as a profound symbol of divine grace and protection.
“But Nana,” Tarkik asked, his brow furrowing slightly, “don’t other gods help their devotees too? Why is Bhagwan Jagannath special in this way?”
Nana nodded, acknowledging the thoughtful question. “All forms of the divine help their devotees, Tarkik. But Bhagwan Jagannath makes this promise visible and tangible through His very form. It’s a constant reminder of His vow to support us through the challenges of life.”
Tarkik pondered this for a moment, then smiled. “It’s like He’s not just telling us He’ll help, but showing us too.”
“Exactly!” Nana chuckled, ruffling Tarkik’s hair affectionately. “And remember, in the Bhagavad Gita, Bhagwan Krishna promises to carry what we lack and preserve what we have. Bhagwan Jagannath’s wooden form is a beautiful, physical representation of that promise.”
As they continued their walk through the vibrant streets of Puri, Tarkik felt a deep sense of peace wash over him. The wooden form of Bhagwan Jagannath now seemed to him like a lifeline in the vast ocean of existence, promising safety, guidance, and ultimate liberation.
“Nana,” Tarkik said softly, his voice filled with wonder, “every time I learn something new about Bhagwan Jagannath, I feel… I feel like I’m getting closer to understanding something very big and important.”
Nana placed a gentle hand on Tarkik’s shoulder, his eyes twinkling with pride and affection. “That, my dear grandson, is the beginning of true bhakti. Bhagwan Jagannath is slowly revealing Himself to you, just as He does to all who approach Him with an open heart and curious mind.”
As they turned a corner, the majestic spire of the Jagannath temple came into view, seeming to touch the sky. Tarkik gazed at it in awe, feeling a newfound connection to the Lord of the Universe. He realised that his journey of understanding was just beginning, and he looked forward to unravelling more of Bhagwan Jagannath’s divine mysteries in the days to come.
