But recently a video surfaced showing mice in a packet of laddu prasad at the revered Siddhivinayak temple in Mumbai. This naturally created outrage, raising questions about the level of cleanliness in the temple. The temple trust said that the video was a conspiracy to malign it since the strictest standards of hygiene were maintained in the temple. Now an enquiry has been constituted at the level of a deputy commissioner of police to get to the bottom of this incident.

Siddhivinayak temple trustees may be right in their claim of a conspiracy. But generally, it is an unfortunate fact that many of our well-known temples are also surrounded by a great degree of filth. Since I am a proud Hindu, I say this with sadness, but I have witnessed how easily the devout in Hinduism accept unhygienic conditions around their places of worship. What is ironic is that most Hindus are deeply conscious of the ritual purity of their own person and of the cleanliness of their homes. But they do not care for, or notice, the lack of cleanliness outside of this personal realm. Those who keep their own homes will throw their garbage outside it, without any thought of its disposal, or impact on others around them.

A pious Hindu will take a dip in the holy waters of the Ganga unaffected by the dirt and excreta on and around the bathing ghat. Even the obvious and tragic pollution of the Ganga will mostly not bother him, let alone prompt him to proactively take collective action to clean up the surroundings. When Mahatma Gandhi visited the famous Kashi Vishvanath temple in Varanasi, he was ‘deeply pained’ by what he saw. In his Autobiography, he describes the approach through a narrow and filthy lane, swarming with flies, the cacophony of shopkeepers and pilgrims, and the rotten and stinking flowers inside the temple.

When, some years ago, I visited the Jagannath temple at Puri, the main approach was flooded by the monsoon rains. An overpowering stench of sewage pervaded the place. Big cockroaches could be seen on the ornate garlands around the deities. There were swarms of flies on the prasad. Stray dogs, some with open sores, were everywhere, and the leaf and plastic containers used to distribute the prasad were strewn everywhere. When I went on a pilgrimage to Pashupati Nath temple in Kathmandu, Nepal, I was struck again by the refuse and rubbish around this sacred site.

It is true that at the initiative of the government, Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s Swachh Bharat Campaign, and the efforts of authorities, many temples are cleaner now. Kashi Vishvanath temple, for one, has a brand-new approach, and the conditions around other major temples are also less dirty. More care is also now taken at major religious events, where millions attend—such as the Kumbh Mela at Prayaga—to provide better hygienic conditions. But our proclivity to be oblivious, or less than aware of the conditions of our places of worship, is still prevalent.

I think the primary reason for this is that for Hindus, religion is a highly individualised pursuit. A devotee is concerned about his personal moksha, the satisfaction of his own wants, and less about anything else. He has an individual pact with the Almighty; nothing else distracts him. It is a dialogue restricted to two entities, the mortal and the immortal. This self-obsession, in which the obvious discordance of the environment makes no dent, is not a sign of spiritual transcendence, as it sometimes appears to be, but more a callous insularity.

In Christianity, there is the community gathering at the church on Sundays; in Islam, there is the Friday congregational gathering. There is no such institutional counterpart in Hinduism and fewer avenues to contribute to the community within the arena of spiritual search and fulfilment. This is by no means an attempt to belittle the philosophical profundity and other great strengths of the Hindu faith, on which I have written at length, but an attempt, as Hindus, for self-introspection in our own interest.

The allegation of mice in the prasad at Siddhi Vinayak temple may or may not be true. But I know that Ganesh ji, and our many other revered deities, would be far happier—and perhaps even more benevolent—if the places where they are worshipped are kept clean, not only through government initiatives but through a change of attitude and awareness of devotees themselves.

Pavan K Varma is author, diplomat, and former Member of Parliament (Rajya Sabha). Just Like That is a weekly column where Varma shares nuggets from the world of history, culture, literature, and personal reminiscences. The views expressed are personal