Temple Trails & Flower Tales

Being a proud Tambrahm who grew up in Matunga, albeit a few decades after @jayasala42 maamis thread titled Matunga Series From A Mumbaikaar, I can tell you—it wasn’t just about Shankara Matham (where my thambi's poonal was done with full pomp and goshti, presided over by none other than Shankaracharya himself!), or Bhajana Samaj and Asthika Samaj—which today flaunt sprawling temple complexes and even their own kalyana mandapams. The spiritual map of our world included the not-mentioned-here but no less divine Shiva temple right opposite Shankara Matham, and diagonally across that, tucked in a quiet corner, the serene Kannika Parameshwari temple just a couple of buildings down from the Shiva temple.

A typical evening stroll was like a spiritual circuit. We’d start at Don Bosco Church, where we'd pray to Infant Jesus. Then we'd head to Marubai Gamdevi temple—a local deity whose presence is deeply respected. Behind that was yet another humble Shiva-Hanuman temple, where the moment you stepped in, you’d forget you were in the middle of bustling Mumbai. It felt like a sleepy agraharam tucked somewhere deep in Tamil Nadu.

From there, the walk would lead to Asthika Samaj, Shankara Matham, Kannika Parameshwari temple, Shiva temple, and finally Bhajana Samaj.

Fridays were extra special. We would always end up at Bhajana Samaj, where the priest would do the Navavarna poojai for Sri Rajarajeshwari. The fragrance of seasonal mallipoo, kanakambaram, and rose petals used in the poojai still wafts through my memory.

On regular days, we’d reach just in time for the Vishnu Sahasranamam chanting. We’d sit cross-legged, the sound of the mantras echoing in the sanctum, bringing a deep sense of calm and connection.

After the divine darshan and chanting, our return home wasn’t complete without buying fresh kathirikkai, murungakkai, and vendakkai, and of course, stopping by the Matunga flower market. The scent of freshly strung mallipoo, the sight of fragrant jadais, and flower vendors calling out, “Maami idhu romba fresh!”—it’s all etched in my mind.

Temples were never just about worship. They were community hubs. You’d see maamis in bright pattu sarees, vaira thodus sparkling, exchanging juicy maami-level gossip with each other. Maamas, in their spotless white veshtis with an ocassional panchakaccham neatly pleated, would sit in silent dignity, at times discussing Carnatic music or the latest Upanyasam or Kalyanam.

During the grand festivals—Rama Navami, Navaratri, Margazhi Utsavam—the entire neighborhood would transform. Each temple would host kutcheris, bharatanatyam arangetrams, and Katha Kalakshepams from 4 PM to 10 PM. I still remember Smt. Vijayalakshmi Nathan’s Kalakshepam during my 10th standard. It started at 8:30 PM and went on till 10:30—and not once did I doze off. Such was the magic!

And the kalyanotsavams! Whether it was Radha-Krishna, Rama-Sita, or Meenakshi-Sundareswarar, the rituals were angapradakshinam-level elaborate, and the kalyana saapadu that followed—oh, don’t even get me started! We even had top bhajan groups singing live as part of the celebrations.

The post under 'interesting shares' by @jayasala42 maami brought all of it back like a gentle wave of divine nostalgia. Truly, Matunga wasn’t just a suburb—it was a slice of sacred Bharatam nestled in the heart of aamchi Mumbai.

Wherever I am in this world, Matunga will always have a piece of my heart!!