A Matter of Perspective (Just Singing in The Rain)

Many things in life are a matter of perspective. Not least in the UK’s first city, where all aspects of human existence constantly interplay. A resident (or visiting) Londoner’s mission of the day might well be a cutting-edge artistic, culturally historic, or dynamically social one. Realistically, however, there is likely to be a pressing work matter clouding our perception. But even though we can’t always look at London Life through proverbial rose-tinted specs, the metropolis does sometimes reveal glorious rainbow hues of its own sweet accord.

Sunday 30^th July 2023 is one of those technicoloured dream days. Anyone who, from midday onwards, happens to be strolling from Hyde Park Corner along Piccadilly, cutting through Haymarket or wending their way towards Trafalgar Square in a (hopefully) unhurried fashion (after all it is Sunday) cannot fail to notice a huge and beautifully decorated wooden carriage bearing dazzling deities attended by saffron-clad monks, male devotees in white dhotis and garlanded ladies in stunning saris.

Technicoloured Dream Day

Crowds in their thousands, including groups of lively mantra musicians, wearing Indian-style finery are escorting this steadily shifting and rather mesmerising scene like devotional bees swarming around a massive moving multi-coloured honeypot. Moreover, everyone seems to want to be one among many to draw this chariot (known as a Rath cart) with long pulling-ropes attached. (Casual onlookers may wonder why the multitude is clamouring so fervently to take a turn at towing something quite so big!)

Coveted Cord

For those of us who joined the procession at the start, this is an eagerly anticipated get-together on a very auspicious occasion. It’s the London Hare Krishna movement’s version of Rathayatra, a yearly world-wide festival originating in India.  

Road Closure

Every summer, the Lord of the Universe, Jagannath, his brother, Balarama, and sister, Subhadra, come out of Soho Street, City of Westminster’s Radha Krishna Temple to grace the streets of the UK capital.

The Jagannath Trinity in Soho Street Temple

Now on the Road

Rathayatra reliably fetches a lot of local folks out of the woodwork while attracting many more from far and wide. We will probably lose sight of friends we set out with, but, to make up for that, bump into acquaintances we haven’t seen for a long time, making it a day pleasantly punctuated with enjoyable social surprises.

Hare Krishna devotee Jagannath Nayana Ranjana das (formerly known as racing-jockey Jeff Marshall), who has travelled to London from Cambridge, enthuses:

“I love coming into town for Rathayatra. It’s great to be surrounded by so many other devotees and the atmosphere is electric.”

Jagannath admits he didn’t even bother to check the weather forecast.

“If it rains, we just carry on regardless, and people think it’s marvellous that we remain so unaffected by the elements, with our spirits in no way dampened. If it’s balmy and dry, people say that the sun is shining favourably on us. It’s a win-win situation.”

Jagannath – A Man for All Seasons (and Weathers)

Jeff the Jockey’s initiated name, Jagannath Nayana Ranjana, makes reference to the loving glances exchanged between Lord Jagannath and Lord Chaitanya (a 15th-century Indian saint who is considered to be the combined avatar of Radha and Krishna).

These days Jagannath Nayana Ranyana prefers to take events at a much more measured pace than he did back in his horse-racing era, so Rathayatra suits him just fine.

Lord Jagannath’s wide-eyed Gaze

But how does it all look to those who merely see us passing by as they go about their own weekend?

Guests comfortably housed in the upper reaches of the Park Lane Hilton may peer down to spot the tip of the Rath cart’s crown blowing in the breeze and wonder at its magnetic hold over the masses surrounding it. Who knows, perhaps this is a compelling enough vision to bring at least some of those high-up Hiltonites back down to (ant-size on) terra firma.  

High Up in The Hilton

Punters happily soaking up standard rock’n’roll rhythms through sound-systems inside Hard Rock Café on the corner of Piccadilly and Old Park Lane may elect to leave legendary and priceless pop-artefact displays behind and, if they are lucky, emerge on just the right beat to clock the Krishna crew pulsating to that (less hard and heavy!) syncopation resonating along the length and breadth of renowned (now packed and buzzing) thoroughfare Piccadilly courtesy of expertly handled Indian mdrangas.

Where sedentary hard-rockers have opted to kick back, remain indoors and savour classic tunes in a relatively short but, no doubt, welcome break from the rat-race, those striving to coax the striking Rath cart past outdoors are looking a little more towards the longer term (infinity in fact) as they plough diligently on (in the sacred key of life) with the firm hope and belief that the ceremonial pulling of a vehicle this holy will bring them emancipation from a relentless cycle of birth, disease, old age, death and subsequent rebirth. (This may seem like a big ask on a Sunday afternoon. But these hypnotic Indian drum sequences reveal greater depth and complexity than those of popular music if you play them with the right amount of skill. Please note this could take several lifetimes of concentrated practice to perfect.)

Between A Rock and a Hard Place

As we progress along Piccadilly, anyone peering at an opportune enough moment out of their first-floor luxury suite window in that optimally situated five-star haven known globally as the Ritz Hotel might be surprised and blessed to meet the wide-eyed gaze of the deities head on. Affluent visitors to the Ritz no doubt chose this place for its historic elegance, impeccable service and legendary afternoon tea, but are they sufficiently prepared to face God?

Faced with The Divine

Whereas well-heeled shoppers on the second floor of Fortnum and Mason may find their concentration (temporarily) diverted from an overly close examination of the finer material things in life (such as china, candles, lotions and potions) when an eye-catchingly bright crimson and yellow canopy interfaced with stripes of gold and orange and metallic silver decoration manifests itself through the polished glass that fills the lavish store’s ornate outward-facing casements. (NB This particular ruby set in gold is a display item not for sale.)

Bird of India – Fortnum and Mason’s Peacock

When we cut through Haymarket, discerning souls scrumptiously dining out at street-level in pricey restaurants, or casually unwinding in costly cafes, may register through their choice hostelry’s wide and revealing portals to daylight a somewhat surprising scene (for 2023), in the shape and form of large painted wooden wheel-spokes slowly turning southward. Curiosity may even prise them away from their steeply priced hors d’oeuvres (or expensive hot beverages) for long enough to pop outside and work out not only exactly what these eye-arresting rotators of timber are attached to, but where it might all be leading to. (Just don’t let your star-spangled coffees go cold.)

Big Wheel Keep on Turning

Rathayatra goes on to wrap itself round Piccadilly Circus, giving those neon global advertising icons, the Piccadilly Lights, a good run for their money in the form of some relatively low-tech but highly transcendent and vividly entrancing competition.

Festival Time in Piccadilly Circus

For once, delicately poised Eros is not the primary focus of all and sundry encircling him.

Eros – No longer Centre Stage

But it’s not until Rathayatra romps its way into final stop-off Trafalgar Square that the full festal picture formally crystallises within the iconic concrete expanse’s well-proportioned parameters. And its Vice-Admiral Horatio Nelson, who fell at the battle of Trafalgar and, of course, rose again to stand ceremoniously tall on his granite column, who has – by far – the best vantage point today. Having witnessed countless performances, revelries, riots and demos over the decades, as well as impartially sharing on demand his precious patch with parties from both sides of the political spectrum, Nelson now allows the full annual kaleidoscopic Krishna spectacle to unfold on his territory.  

Standing Guard – Nelson

He looks on soundlessly as an age-old mystical movement precipitates beneath him in modern-day iridescent and prismatic formation. A rippling human pageant coils itself into the world-famous public meeting point, and our senior naval officer immortalised in sandstone gets to silently stand guard as its vibrant and populous length condenses into colourfully compact and swirling splinter groups. Some highly animated sections of the human phantasmagoria stay to sway with the timeless mantra beat, while the hungrier elements soon peel off to create a substantial queue around the now sacrosanct civic space’s periphery in order to partake of the hot and fresh sanctified food offered freely to all parade participants.

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All The World’s A Stage

If, as Shakespeare said, all the world’s a stage, then the imposing National Gallery, home to one of the planet’s finest painting collections, provides a perfect backdrop for a truly epic and awe-inspiring show which Nelson hosts until the sun eventually sinks towards the horizon. The Vice-Admiral’s 170-foot-high theatre-spot may be a ‘standing-room only’ one, but it’s not ‘restricted view’.

The whole Hare Krishna world is here in microcosm. Devotees play live music, chant, sing, dance, and feast in a part-stationary, part-fluid celebratory form that flows freely around a static pattern made up of Trafalgar Square’s four enormous bronze lions, its fountains, plinths and, for this day only,  strategically placed festival stalls proffering transcendental literature, sage advice, and spiritual artefacts all aimed at elevating the individual’s (and the collective) consciousness.

And Jagannath Nayana Ranyana’s weather theory is properly put to the test when devotees carry on celebrating undeterred by the elements – despite a biblical rain-torrent.

Unphased by The Elements

There are many perspectives we can take on our brief mortal existence, but, as Rathayatra (and Nelson on his column) aptly demonstrate, we should always try to look at the bigger picture.