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I am a Hindu because of sculptured cones of red kumkum powder and baskets of yellow turmeric nuggets, because of garlands of flowers and pieces of broken coconut, because of the clanging of bells to announce one's arrival to God, because of the whine of the reedy nadaswaram and the beating of drums, because of the patter of bare feet against the stone floors down dark corridors pierced by shafts of sunlight, because of the fragrance of incense, because of the flames of arati lamps circling in the darkness, because of bhajans being sweetly sung, because of elephants standing around to bless, because of colourful murals telling colourful stories, because of foreheads carying, variously signified, the same word-- faith.

I became loyal to these sense impressions before I knew what they meant or what they were for. It is my heart that commands me so. I feel at home in a Hindu temple. ... Truly I am in a sacred cosmic womb, a place where everything is born, and it is my sweet luck to behold its living core.


-Life of Pi, p47-8