Two lingas: the one of sand and the one from the north

Episode 2 of 3 in Rameswaram: the island of Rama's worship.

Narrated with an AI voice.

Reading time
8 min
Listening time
11 min
By
DharmikStudio Originals
Temple or tirtha
Ramanathaswamy Temple, Rameswaram
Narration
AI voice

Read along

Namaste, and welcome back. Let us settle in with one slow breath. In. And out.

In the last sitting we heard how Rama worshipped Shiva on the shore at Rameswaram, and how different tellings place that worship at different moments. Today we stay with one part of the story, the part that shapes the temple itself. There are two lingas at its heart. One, the tradition says, Sita shaped from the sand of the shore. The other, Hanuman carried from the far north. Let us hear how that came to be, and then let us see what a pilgrim sees today.

First, a word about the linga. A linga is the aniconic form of Shiva, a form without a face or limbs, usually a smooth rounded stone rising from a base. A linga shaped by hand from earth, clay or sand is called a parthiva linga, one made of the earth. In many parts of India, families still shape small lingas of clay for worship at home and return them to water afterwards. Customs differ from region to region and from family to family.

So when the tradition says Sita shaped a linga from sand, it is describing something many listeners have seen at home, or done with their own hands. The worship of a linga made in the moment, from the earth of the place, is old and much loved.

Our main source today is the Setu Mahatmya, a section of the Skanda Purana that praises the setu and the holy places around it. The temple's own tradition follows it closely. As we tell it, please remember that other texts tell it differently, and we will come to those.

In the Setu Mahatmya, the worship happens after the war. Rama has won, and Sita is with him again. Yet in this telling Rama does not go straight home. Ravana, though he had done great wrong, was learned, and was born into a family of sages, as the grandson of a rishi and son of the sage Vishrava. In this telling, Rama wishes to be cleansed of the fault of his death, and the sages advise him to install and worship a linga of Shiva on this shore.

So Hanuman is sent north to bring a linga. Here the tellings already differ. Some say he went to Kailasa, some say to the Himalaya in general, and the name Kashi lingam, which the temple uses, points to Kashi. We will not choose between them. What they agree on is that the journey was long, and that an auspicious time for the worship had been fixed.

Hanuman is the one who can make such a journey. In the Ramayana he has already leapt the ocean to find Sita in Lanka, and in the war he has flown to the Himalaya to bring back healing herbs for Lakshmana. So the listener is not surprised when he is sent. He is the one sent when something must be fetched from very far away, quickly.

The time drew near. Hanuman had not yet returned. And so, the story says, Sita knelt on the shore and shaped a linga from the wet sand with her own hands. Rama installed it and worshipped it at the appointed time. That linga of sand, the tradition says, is the Ramalingam, the main linga of the temple, in the innermost shrine.

Then Hanuman arrived, carrying the linga he had brought with such effort, and found the worship already done. Here the story becomes very human. In a telling you will hear at the temple and in many homes, Hanuman is hurt, and tries to move the sand linga with his tail to make room for his own. The sand linga does not move. Not every version includes this part, and those that do tell it in different ways.

What happens next is the heart of it. Rama comforts Hanuman. He installs Hanuman's linga beside the first, and, the tradition says, asks that it be worshipped first, before the Ramalingam, every day. That second linga is the Vishwalingam, the linga of the lord of the universe, also called the Kashi lingam. And to this day the temple keeps that order. The Vishwalingam receives worship first.

Think about what the story honours. Sita's linga was made in a few moments, from what lay at hand. Hanuman's linga was carried across the whole length of the land. Both were received. One is at the centre of the temple. The other is worshipped first. Neither offering pushes the other aside.

There is also something in it about how Rama treats the people who serve him. Hanuman's hurt is not dismissed. It is seen, and answered with honour, in a way that is still visible in the temple's daily worship many centuries later. A promise to a devoted friend has been kept, every morning, for as long as anyone can remember.

Now let us turn to the Ramcharitmanas of Goswami Tulsidas, because his telling is the one many listeners grew up with. In the Manas, there is no journey for Hanuman and no sand linga. The worship happens before the setu is built. Rama himself installs the linga on the shore and worships it with due rites, and the place is named Rameswaram.

Tulsidas then has Rama speak about Shiva, and some of those lines are loved across north India. In the Lanka Kand, Rama says, in meaning, that a person who calls himself Rama's devotee but sets himself against Shiva will not reach Rama even in a dream. Rama also speaks of the blessing of coming to Rameswaram for darshan, the seeing and being seen by the deity. For Tulsidas, this shore is where devotion to Rama and devotion to Shiva are shown to be one road.

Other Ramayanas, in Sanskrit and in the many languages of India, tell this scene in their own ways, and some leave it out. The temple holds the Setu Mahatmya telling. Many homes hold the Manas telling. Both have been sung and loved for centuries. We do not need to settle which came first, and we will not call one the real story.

For the listener, this can even be a gift. Two tellings, each with its own feeling. In the Manas, Rama prays before the great task, with the whole army waiting and the sea still uncrossed. In the Setu Mahatmya, he prays after it, with Sita beside him and the war behind them. Both are moments many of us know from our own lives.

So what does a pilgrim see today? After the long walk through the corridors, you reach the inner shrine of Ramanathaswamy, where the Ramalingam is worshipped. Near it is the shrine of the Vishwalingam, where the day's worship begins. The goddess of the temple, Shiva's consort, has her own shrine. She is known here as Parvathavardhini.

The temple also has an early-morning worship of a small crystal linga, called the spatika linga. Many pilgrims come very early for it.

Whichever worship you attend, the temple will be busy, and darshan may last only a moment as the line moves on. That is normal. Many pilgrims find it helps to prepare a short prayer in their own words while they wait in the queue, so that when they reach the shrine, even a few seconds feel full. Timings and rules change, so please check at the temple itself rather than relying on what you hear from others.

When you stand before the Ramalingam, you may find yourself thinking of Sita on the shore, a little hurried, the sea nearby, making do with sand. It is one of the most tender pictures in the whole Ramayana tradition. A great temple rose around an offering made from almost nothing.

Let us gather what we heard today.

In the Setu Mahatmya and the temple tradition, Rama wished to worship Shiva on this shore after the war. Hanuman went north for a linga. As the time came near, Sita shaped a linga of sand, and Rama worshipped it. That is the Ramalingam. When Hanuman returned, his linga was installed beside it and given the first worship each day. That is the Vishwalingam, or Kashi lingam. In the Ramcharitmanas, the worship comes before the setu, with no sand linga, and Rama speaks of Shiva with great love. The tellings differ, and the temple and the homes of India keep them side by side, as the temple keeps its two lingas.

One thing to take with you. Sita offered what was at hand, and Hanuman offered his long effort, and both were honoured. This week, when you offer something, a prayer, a meal, a piece of work, do not wait for it to be grand. Offer what you have. And when someone else's offering arrives late, find a way to honour it.

In the next sitting, we go to the water. We bathe, in our imagination, at Agni Theertham and walk from well to well through the temple's theerthams.

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