Spiritual materialism

Whitefield and Bannerghatta Road are famous as Bangalore's IT corridors. But not many know that Kanakapura Road is this city's guru corridor. It has scores of ashrams along the way. It is not as busy as Bangalore's other highways, but the density of dollar-rich tourist traffic is disproportionately high on this green, picturesque stretch.

The most well-known among the gurus here is Sri Sri Ravishankar, who presides over a sprawling estate, and controls a worldwide empire from a lotus-shaped head office. Late last week, our chief reporter B V Shiva Shankar stumbled on an interesting story about yet another 'spiritual tourism' project coming up on Kanakapura Road.The International Society for Krishna Consciousness, which has branches across the globe, is building a Krishna Leela theme park on 28 acres. It plans to beat Disneyland and such other amusement parks with animated scenes from the life of god Krishna. The idea is to dazzle you with tech, and tell stories from the puranas.

The Karnataka government has granted Iskcon some acres, but the group has gone ahead and bought more in the vicinity, and is now planning to build and sell housing and commercial complexes there.

But this grand dream has run into a roadblock. D K Shivakumar, the state Congress working president, is furious. He is saying it's not right for sadhus to dirty their hands with land dealings. The temple's saffron-clad administrators are doing everything possible, including meeting Shivakumar's mentor S M Krishna, to stop him from demolishing their plans.

There's quite a bit of showbiz involved in the spiritual business. Gurus buy TV time, address mass gatherings that resemble rock audiences, and hire PR agencies to proclaim their glories to the unenlightened world.

No one can deny the usefulness of gurus, especially in despairing times such as ours. But many things about them leave you uncomfortable: their aggressive PR, their desire for fame and influence, their contempt for the law, their greed for real estate and hard cash. And there's something else we overlook... their love of kitsch.

The amusements at the Swaminarayan Akshardham temple near Ahmedabad show what happens when you have lots of money and little taste. Ten years ago, I had occasion to visit the temple a day after I had been to Gandhi's ashram in Sabarmati. I can still remember the contrast. Sabarmati was sparse and unpretentious, hallowed by memories of a man who grappled with the British empire, his countrymen's failings, and his own ethical dilemmas.

The Swaminarayan temple's attractions were movie set-like, tacky, desperate to impress.

It's not clear yet who's right and who's wrong in the Iskcon vs Shivakumar row. But any chance we could be spared the kitsch and the Disney-style tamasha?