Pahupatinath is an ancient Hindu temple on the banks of the Bagmati River in Kathmandu, Nepal.  Dating back to the 5^th century, it is considered one the oldest and most important Shiva temples in all of Nepal.  One early myth tells the story of Lord Shiva taking refuge in the woodland valley to evade his Godly duties.  Residing in the forest, he became renown as Pashupati, the Lord of the animals.  When the other Gods finally found him, they were quite angry, and insisted that he return to his residence on Mount Kailash.  To escape, he disguised himself as a deer and ran off to hide in the forest.  In the ensuing chase, a piece of his antler was broken off and fell to the ground.

Many years went by, and the antler lingam, or empowered phallic symbol, was covered over by vegetation and the passing of time.  Finally, a cow herder noticed one of his cows going to the same place each day to offer up her milk onto the earth.  When he examined that spot, he found the horn and recognized it as a Shiva Lingam.  Soon, it began to be worshipped by a growing number of people and eventually became the site of a temple.  Now Pashupatinath is an elaborate temple complex with extensive grounds comprised of the main pagoda-style temple, numerous smaller Shiva lingam shrines and burning ghats along the river, where Hindu devotees are cremated.

It was here, where a cow made her milk oblations to the lingam of Pashupati, that the renowned holy man known as “Dudhadhari Baba” or “Milk Baba” welcomed us.   Ram Krishna Das earned his Milk Baba title because of his austerity of receiving his nourishment exclusively from milk for over 25 years.  According to Ayurveda, milk is considered a Sattvic, or spiritually pure, food.  It is peacefully obtained from a cow, considered the holiest of animals, without the loss of life, and is complete to sustain human life.

The saddhu, now around 80 years old, has also committed to wearing his hair in jatta, or dreadlocks, since he took his initiation at 18.  If not wrapped up on top of his head, they would drag on the ground behind him.  He has practiced many austerities including years of meditation in isolation, barefoot pilgrimages through the Himalayas and a lifetime of celibacy.  He is a great scholar and master of the Hindu epic, the Ramayana, whose teachings he fully embodies.

Milk Baba invited us into his small kutir, or ascetic’s hut, where a circle of temple musicians sat by candlelight singing verses of the Ramayana.  Between verses, Baba would discourse on their meaning.  Not being fluent in the dialect, we sat quietly sipping the chai he offered us and enjoying the darshan, or vision, of this gentle living saint.

There are certain places on Earth, call them vortexes or centers of the universe or suns shining with divine light, that attract celestial bodies who are empowered by circling around them.  The 14th century Bodnath stupa in Kathmandu is such a place.  From morning until night, hundreds of Tibetan Buddhists circumambulate the enormous white, dome-shaped shrine to the Buddha’s enlightenment.  Chanting Om Mane Padme Hum in low, resonant tones, they slide worn prayer beads between their fingers and turn prayer wheels built into the wall of the stupa.

As soon as we were in view of the stupa, a heartfelt attraction drew us into the mantra and into orbit. Spinning prayer wheels inscribed with the mantra, we became part of the collective prayer of pure compassion being sent to all sentient beings.  The subtly palpable vibration of the mantra was carried by the ringing bells, the wafting amber incense, the movements of the embodied souls walking clockwise around the stupa and through the stupa itself, like a transmission tower, out into the universe.  Even at night, as worshippers sleep, thousands of colorful prayer flags continue to release the mantra of compassion into the wind, while Buddha’s calm, omniscient eyes stand witness.

Bodnath sits in the heart of Kathmandu’s Tibetan community, making this not only a religious center, but also a social gathering place.  So, after recharging our spiritual batteries and broadcasting our love into the stratosphere, we honored our bodily call for comfort with some masala chai and a chocolate brownie at a stupa-side café.  Who says you can’t sip chai and awaken your Buddha nature at the same time?