Urban Legend: A liquor shop, a temple, and an all-curing talisman

There's oil, and then there's yenne! In the crowded back lanes of Cottonpet, where you dodge the incoming scooter, the auto rickshaw and the cow, there's an 'yenne angadi' (literally 'oil shop' but actually an euphemism for a liquor bar or shop) quite unlike any other in the city. This is the Yenne Angadi Durganjaneya Prasanna Adishakthi Manthralaya, guarded by the bone-chilling image of the four-armed goddess, that looms over the premises.

What makes this 140 year old 'thaytha' temple, the home of lucky charms, that sits bang in the middle of Super Talkies road, any different from the others? These lucky charms are offered to people from all walks of life and of every faith, anyone in fact who comes to the deity, seeking solace, comfort and protection, from threats, both imagined and real.

It's Cottonpet's, no, probably Bengaluru's, best kept secret. On Thursday, in the gathering dusk, there were as many women with bawling babies and toddlers who were clearly Hindu as there were burqa-clad Muslim women, lining up to receive benediction. The old and the young, of disparate faiths, all united in their quest to rid themselves of 'Balagraha dosha' or uneasiness due to 'boori nazar' or a simple fever, a cold or just plain blue funk. The 'yenne angadi' offers a 'thaytha' for every problem and the devotees vouch for the magical properties of a talisman that allows them to shake off whatever it is that has taken hold of them.

The man and the talisman
Jagadeesh, the guruji who offers prayers to Adishakthi and makes every single 'thaytha' is happy to tell the story of how the temple earned its name and its fame.

"Long decades before we even had a record of what time or what year it was, my great-great grandfather was known to have been blessed with a skill to make 'thaytha'. Although, he owned an oil shop, his entire life focus was in offering prayers to Adishakthi. The prayers to the goddess, were conducted unfailingly every day, in a little room at the back of his shop.

One day, when he was visiting his native village near Nelamangala, a man who was dressed like a 'fakir' called out him. When my great-great grandfather went closer, the fakir reached out and blessed him, and inculcated him into the art of making 'thaytha'. My great-great grandfather was a man of few words but this is the story he told his awe-struck family when he returned home, and ever since, the family hasn't looked back," says Jagadeesh.

Accepting the simple mysteries of life, Jagadeesh's forefathers continued the tradition of making the talismans. While they accepted that their family was blessed in making 'thaythas' that could cure children suffering from fever and other complaints, not once did they question their beliefs. This is the sixth generation of the family that is continuing the 'thaytha' tradition.

It's not that Jagadeesh isn't educated or hasn't heard or isn't aware that questions are asked by rationalists on the validity of his 'silly' beliefs. As he explains, "it's the visible power of the 'thaytha' and the solace people find in my small temple that reaffirms my belief in my family's unique power."

"I graduated from college but that did not stop me from believing that 'thaytha' could solve people's ailments. Even today, young mothers come here before going to the doctor, we are their first port of call. The minute the child starts throwing a fit, he or she is brought straight here. The beliefs say a lot and the answer lies in the fact that all these believers see a positive result in their kids and come back next time too," he says.

Even as Jagadeesh speaks, a mother of a nine-month-old infant walks into the temple, consoling her tiny tot. As Jagadeesh continues to work his magic on the child, I ask the mother what brings her here.

"My child has been dull for the last few days and he has mild fever. So before visiting the doctor I decided to bring him here. Even as a child, my parents first brought me here before visiting the doctor and I follow the norm. I have noticed that often my child is alright instantly and we don't see the need to go to the doctor at all."

It's beliefs like these that bring people from other religions like Islam and Christianity. On any given day, burqa-clad women and men returning from their evening 'namaz' queue up outside the temple, waiting for Jagadeesh to make his 'thaytha'. While the temple places no restrictions on its believers, the believers too are unreservedly open to the power of  the 'yenne angadi.'

"We have never questioned anybody's beliefs and irrespective of the religion, people are welcome here," Jagadeesh says. There has been one fall-out - a falling out between Jagadeesh and his brother, who has gone his separate way. A few decades ago, Jagadeesh's nephew started his own temple right next to the 'yenne angadi' and continues to make the same kind of 'thaytha'.  However, devotees still throng the 'yenne angadi'.

Ask him what next, if his son will continue to do what he does or whether the modern era has changed his beliefs and Jagadeesh, asserts, "Soon after my son finished his engineering, he came up to me and told me he wanted to continue what his forefathers have done. Maybe, it's some divine force seeking us out, even before we go in search of our destiny. We know we were destined to make 'thaythas' and for generations to come, we must continue this tradition."