A God could be Joyful, I realised

by: Hindumitra Karen Dabraowska, London

"There I was greeted by a radiant figure in vibrant attire, an all-embracing smile playing across his face as he held a flute. I later learned this was Lord Krishna. I was struck by the vivid colours of his clothing and by a realization that startled me: a god could be joyful. This stood in stark contrast to the bleak, suffering figure of the organized religion that had shaped my early religious upbringing—an image I had turned away from at sixteen, weary of misery, guilt, tears, and crowns of thorns."

It was my first trip to India. The drive from New Delhi to Rishikesh was long, and the widening, steep road made me carsick. I felt immense relief when the driver finally stopped so I could step out and drink some water. We had stopped outside the Neem Karoli Baba temple near Nainital in Uttarakhand. Shoes lay scattered across the courtyard, and although I did not yet understand why, I instinctively followed others and removed mine as well.

It was early evening, the heat of the day slowly dissolving into night. I sat on the cool white marble steps surrounding the temple, sipping mineral water, watching people come and go, each greeting me with a gentle, welcoming smile.

My guide disappeared into the temple and returned some fifteen minutes later, surprised that I had not followed him. By then the nausea had eased, and I walked carefully toward the entrance. There I was greeted by a radiant figure in vibrant attire, an all-embracing smile playing across his face as he held a flute. I later learned this was Lord Krishna. I was struck by the vivid colours of his clothing and by a realization that startled me: a god could be joyful. This stood in stark contrast to the bleak, suffering figure on a cross that had shaped my early religious upbringing—an image I had turned away from at sixteen, weary of misery, guilt, tears, and crowns of thorns.

Neem Karoli Baba temple

Temple visits had not been part of my itinerary, which was focused on Baba Ji’s cave, but I welcomed the unexpected gift. The second temple I visited was Jhula Devi, seven kilometres from Ranikhet in the Kumaon Hills, set amid tranquil forests and winding roads. At night, leopards are known to sit by the roadside here, and tigers have been known to claim the unwary. Yet within the eighth-century temple itself, all is peaceful. Dedicated to the goddess Durga, the temple carries a gentle stillness. Folklore tells that the idol was discovered by a shepherd, guided by the goddess in a dream. It is also believed that anyone who ties a bell to the temple wall will, in time, have their wish fulfilled.

It was here that I learned why Hindus ring temple bells—of which there are hundreds at Jhula Devi. The bell announces one’s arrival to the deity, dispels negative energy, focuses the mind, and symbolizes the primordial sound of Om, creating a sacred atmosphere for worship. This resonated deeply with me. Since then, whenever I enter a temple, I ring the bell to mark another sacred moment of connection with the architect of the universe.

Since 2022, temples have become the focal point of my journeys to India as my relationship with Sanatan Dharma has deepened. The temples of the north, with their spacious interiors and abundant images of the deities, contrast sharply with those of the south, where Dravidian architecture rises in massive, ornate gateway towers enclosing richly sculpted courtyards—monumental, tiered, and alive with mythological stories.

There is also the quiet beauty of temple gardens and pushkarinis—sacred bodies of water believed to cleanse sins and grant blessings.

For me, the most profound moments come from standing quietly before the images of the gods. Their expressions carry a peaceful, introspective presence, a gentle vibration that calms the mind and opens the heart. These are not mere statues, but living images whose energy draws my soul toward the universal soul—essential companions on my inward journey toward the atman.

When I first began visiting India and sent photos of the deities to my stepsister, she replied curtly on WhatsApp: “What is it with you and these Gods? They are overdone, overdressed, and over there.”

I replied that I understood how they might seem excessive. Yes, they are richly adorned in bright colours—that, in part, is what drew me to them. I love the joy, the colour, and the legends that surround them. The temple I visit in southeast London has an array of deities whose costumes change regularly. I understand that this may not be everyone’s cup of tea.

When I visit a temple, I feel a distinct energy emanating from the deities—especially through their eyes and expressions. Hanuman appears in many forms: joyful, sorrowful, steadfast. I feel a particular affinity with him, the devoted servant, the eternal number two, a role I recognize in myself. Shiva embodies immense power and stillness, while Krishna and Radha represent the harmony of a joyful union. Sitting quietly near the deities brings me a deep peace, a sense that all is right with the world during these sacred moments.

The gods need not be seen solely as gods; they may also be understood as expressions of universal energies. Lakshmi embodies abundance and fullness, Hanuman selfless service, Santoshi contentment, and Ganesh purification and the removal of obstacles.

Of course, these forms may not resonate with everyone. To each their own.

Living close to nature on your farm, in harmony with the land, you embody much of Hindu philosophy. Cows hold a sacred place in Hinduism, as they do in your heart—a memory that still makes me smile when I recall the electric fence you placed around me as I slept near the bull in the field.

After returning to London from my second trip to India in March 2023, I began visiting temples across Greater London and eventually saw sixty-five of them. They brought India to Europe—temples of both north and south, some as beautiful as those I had seen in India itself.

Santosh in Maha Lakshmi Vidya Bhavan

Two temples in south London hold a particularly special place in my heart: Maha Lakshmi Vidya Bhavan in Honor Oak Park and the South East Hindu Association Temple in Woolwich. MLVB sits on the threshold between city and countryside, surrounded by woodland leading toward Kent. On my first visit, Acharya Bankim Gossai opened the temple especially for me and tied a rakhi thread around my wrist. His boundless energy and devotion are a joy to witness, as he welcomes all—especially children—into his haven of peace. During Sunday satsang, devotees chant the Gayatri Mantra and the Hanuman Chalisa, and the Acharya always leaves them with words of quiet wisdom.

Shiva in South East Hindu Association temple

SEHA draws me with its magnificent statue of Shiva on Mount Kailash, surrounded by other deities standing serene beneath a canopy of softly glowing lights. The priest, Kanji Patel, keeps a loving and attentive watch over them and recalls how his predecessor observed changes in their expressions.

My heart is filled with gratitude for the many sacred spaces where I have been able to sit quietly and be still. Words can never fully capture these experiences, which lie beyond language. I remain forever thankful for these essential companions on my journey inwards.

About the author:

Hindumitra Karen Dabrowska lives in London, UK. She first became interested in Sanatana Dharma in 2020 after reading Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda. In 2022 she visited Babaji’s cave where Yogananda’s master was initiated into kriya yoga. She found India an enchanting, fascinating and welcoming country which she has been visiting twice a year since 2022. She then visited Rishikesh and in it the Vasishtha Cave home of Vasishtha one of the seven immortal saints. In February 2025 she felt it to be a great honor to go to the kumbh mela a very personal spiritual experience shared with millions of people. In her own words "I felt I was part of one gigantic family and we all embarked on a pilgrimage together."

In 2023 she listened to a talk at Laxmi Narayan Temple in West London by Hindumitra Dr Malladi Srinivasa Sastry, founder of Hindumitra Foundation, and was inspired by his clear presentation of the concepts of Sanatana Dharma. The talk was a condensed version of his ten-lesson course “Bring out the best in you – the Sanatana Dharma way” which she studied online. She kept in touch with Dr Malladi by email and WhatsApp and when he heard that she was planning to visit south India in January this year she was invited to Visakhapatnam to see the activities of Hindumitra. There was a fascinating visit to Dimili village where young people gave a performance of traditional dancing and art forms. Hindumitra is keen to promote the preservation of cultural traditions. She also took part in a major Hindumitra event with the theme the world is one family in Visakhapatnam public library where Hindumitra Karen ji spoke about her spiritual journey with Sanatana dharma. The programme attended by over 100 people was very full with a discussion about Hindu parenting and folk culture performances and demonstrations. Residing in UK, Hindumitra Karen ji actively contributes to the spiritual work of Hindumitra and is currently attending weekly classes on Bhagavatam by Hindumitra Dr. Malladi Srinivasa Sastry.