I was a Class X student when I accompanied my villagers from Mahanga to rath yatra. This was my first trip to Puri and for me, it remains an interesting journey ever since.

The train was full of devotees, but once we reached the pilgrim town, there was a sea of crowd amid which the three chariots were visible. As an adolescent I was rather insecure, if I get lost and parted from my companions.

Father had given me instructions to keep my eyes fixed with those of the Lord. How much ever I tried to do so, my mind was more focused on the risks of getting lost.

All three deities had been placed on their chariots. Then, I got just one glance and clearly saw the eyes of the deity. That was my first impression of Lord Jagannath and I was in some kind of awe for some time.

The Lord is available for a darshan to anybody and everybody without any religious bars only once a year. On that day, the day of the rath yatra, he truly becomes a Jagannath — the Lord of the universe. Otherwise, he becomes a prerogative of servitors first and then the Hindus.

I am reminded of Gandhiji’s efforts to remove the caste bias from the temple after which devotees from so-called lower castes were also allowed inside. As I grew up, my mind often pondered on these aspects and why the Lord of everyone should not want to see some of his people.

But as years passed, I got a few chances to visit the temple. The most special memory of rath yatra was during my tenure as the Union culture secretary. I was happy to be a part of Jagannath’s pahandi or the procession when the largest number of servitors bring the deities one after another and carry them to the chariot. I felt that servitors who move Lord Jagannath make a pretence that he is too heavy, just to appeal to the devotees. I participated in the rituals of the procession by playing a pair of jhanja (a traditional form of cymbal) that I was good at since I played it since my childhood at our village temple.

That experience was beautiful, because you find harmony even in the cacophony of loud sounds of conchs, cymbals and the Hari bols.

Pahandi was more an experience of uniting with the servitors than with the deity.

I was observing the sounds, the vision and the slow movements of the deity on the 22 steps.

From being a part of the crowd as a teenager to becoming a servitor, though only for a few moments, was a wonderful feeling. I usually do not get emotional but I cannot say why I felt overwhelmed at that moment.

Probably it was the induced emotion because of the atmosphere. But I also feel you observe the outer world and sense your inner self simultaneously when you are there close to the chariot as the Lord comes.

I have been there in the VIP lounge sitting comfortably watching the proceedings of the festival of another VIP, the Lord. The vastness of the crowd only next to Triveni, is striking. Yet, you are quite detached as a VIP from those personal experiences. But after retirement I have not been to rath yatra. Rather, I prefer paying a visit every year to the Gundicha temple when the deities reside there.

The faith is intricately tied up with Jagannath. Among my areas of interest is the 3,500 odd jananas (devotional songs) composed in the honour of Jagannath by ancient poets. Sometimes ago, I picked up a selection of 40 songs by 18 writers starting from Sarala Das to the most interesting poet Salabega. I researched on their lives too, but could not find much truth in the legends woven around Salabega. My favourite is Thaka mana chala jiba by Saria Bhika. Interestingly, this is the only poem he is believed to have written. There is no legend or history about him, but his moving words show whoever he was, he had to be a poet of the first order. He is a perpetual wonder.