Experiencing Puja: A Peek into Hindu Worship
Though I had a basic understanding of Hinduism, it was in Singapore’s Hindu temples where I first immersed myself in puja, a ritual that offers solace and spiritual refuge for troubled souls.
Sense of Wander: ★★★★★
The lit oil lamp plays a central role in Hindu worship.
SINGAPORE — Though I’m no stranger to Hinduism and have visited several temples during my trip to India earlier this year (read the Wander in India series), I had never witnessed or participated in a Hindu worship ritual — known as puja — until my recent visit to Singapore.
Puja, the Sanskrit word for “worship,” is a deeply revered Hindu ritual involving offerings and prayers to deities, often conducted in homes or temples. This sacred practice weaves together visual, auditory, and sensory elements — such as the light of fire, fragrant flowers, incense, and melodic chants — creating a spiritually enriching experience.
For Hindus, puja is more than a ritual; it is a profound connection with the divine, a moment to seek blessings, guidance, and spiritual growth. Whether performed daily or during special festivals, puja stands as a unique expression of devotion and cultural heritage in Hinduism.
In my previous article, Little India: Where Your Five Senses are Awakened, I explored Singapore’s vibrant Indian community. It was in the heart of Little India, at the Sri Veeramakaliamman Temple — a place where visitors from around the world come to glimpse this rich aspect of Hindu culture — that I finally had the opportunity to observe puja in person.
Sri Veeramakaliamman Temple is the main attraction in Little India, Singapore.
Located on Serangoon Road, the Sri Veeramakaliamman Temple is an unmistakable landmark, even for those not looking for it — thanks to its unique architecture designed in Dravidian style typical of South Indian temples. The temple’s pyramid-like gopuram, inhabited by a profusion of coloureful deities, mythological figures, and intricate carvings, stands out amidst the city’s urban skyscraper.
As one of the oldest temples in Singapore, Sri Veeramakaliamman Temple holds a special place in the community. It was the first temple established in the area, quickly becoming a spiritual haven for the growing Indian population in this foreign land.
True to its name, the temple is dedicated to Veeramakaliamman, a powerful goddess and fierce incarnation of Shiva’s wife, Kali. Known as the “Destroyer of Evil,” Kali is revered by Hindus for her ability to vanquish ignorance and maintain cosmic order. For the early Indian migrants, her presence offered a sense of security and solace in an unfamiliar land.
Flowers are scattered along the central axis of the stairs leading up to the door of the Sri Veeramakaliamman Temple.
Bronze bells are traditionally found on the doors of Hindu temples.
As I step into the temple early one morning, I notice worshippers ringing the bronze bells at the entrance, signaling their arrival to the deity. Some believe the bell’s sound resonates with “Om,” a sacred vibration thought to dispel negative energy, open the mind to happiness, and make one more receptive within the sanctuary. Following suit, I ring the bell, signaling my own arrival and silently hoping for guidance through the experience ahead.
Inside the temple, I have the chance to observe puja up close for the first time. Entering the compound barefoot, I find a spot at the back and sit on the ground, watching the flow of people. Housewives, some with their daughters in tow, and men who seem to stop by before heading to work, come and go. While many move through quickly, others, like myself, linger a bit longer in this peaceful sanctuary.
Devotees approach the deity to whom they offer their prayers. The priest, performing arti, circles a lit lamp clockwise before the sacred image, chanting prayers or singing hymns. Once the ritual is complete, the priest brings the tray with the lamp to each devotee. They cup their hands over the flame, then touch their palms to their forehead, as if receiving blessings from the divine.
On the tray, small bowls of kumkum powder — made from turmeric or saffron — and white sindoor are available for devotees to tap their fingers into and apply to their foreheads, marking their connection with the divine.
At first, I hesitate, unsure if I, as a non-Hindu, am allowed to participate. After consulting a Hindu friend, I let go of my worries. I approach the deity, wait for the priest to finish the ritual, and mimic what I have observed. With reverence, I complete the worship by placing the sacred mark on my forehead.
Surprisingly, this simple gesture has a profound effect. In less than a minute, this physical act of worship brings me somewhat closer to the divine — whatever that might mean — surpassing all the texts and articles I’ve previously read about puja. This connection draws me back to the temple every morning throughout my stay.
Inside the garbhagriha of the Sri Veeramakaliamman Temple in Little India, Singapore.
Devotees engage in sincere prayers to the deities at the Sri Veeramakaliamman Temple.
A depiction of Goddess Kali adorns the dhvajastambha, or flagpole, at the entrance of the Sri Veeramakaliamman Temple.
And if the Sri Veeramakaliamman Temple offers me a taste of Hindu worship, it’s at the Sri Mariamman Temple where I fully immerse myself in a complete puja, savouring the full-course experience from start to finish.
Nestled in Chinatown, the Sri Mariamman Temple holds the distinction of being Singapore’s oldest Hindu temple, established in 1827. Dedicated to the goddess Mariamman, revered for her healing powers, the temple shares a similar architectural style with the Sri Veeramakaliamman Temple but boasts a much larger compound. Its striking gopuram, adorned with elaborate carvings, stands in vivid contrast to the surrounding Chinese-style buildings.
In the evening, the multi-tiered gopuram of the Sri Mariamman Temple emanates a sense of majesty.
Since the temple closes from noon until evening, I arrive just as it reopens, greeted by a heavy downpour. The solemn sound of bells, trumpets and tabla drums fill the air as I join the ritual.
I watch the priest tirelessly perform the same arti from statue to statue, deity to deity, moving from the garbhagriha, where the temple’s main deity resides, to the statues outside. Whether by coincidence or the power of faith, the rain gradually lessens to a drizzle and then stops completely as the group of devotees follows the priest to pay homage to the deities outdoors.
The entire ritual takes about thirty minutes. Walking alongside the priest and the other devotees, I feel an unexpected sense of belonging. Despite the absence of words and the fact that I’m not Hindu, our shared presence — driven by their faith and my curiosity — creates a silent bond, uniting us in this sacred moment.
“Despite the absence of words and the fact that I’m not Hindu, our shared presence — driven by their faith and my curiosity — creates a silent bond, uniting us in this sacred moment.”
A priest performs the arti in front of the sacred image of Sri Mariamman, the main deity of the Sri Mariamman Temple in Singapore.
I was particularly drawn to these cute flowers arranged at the feet of Ganesha.
On my last day in Singapore, before heading to the airport, I return to the Sri Veeramakaliamman Temple in Little India, just a 20-minute walk from my hotel.
Like a Hindu devotee, I remove my shoes and socks and wash my feet outside the temple. Climbing the stairs to the entrance, I ring the small bronze bells as I enter. This time, with no hesitation or doubt, I approach the sacred image to pay my tribute.
I join the line of worshippers as the priest performs the arti. When he finishes, he approaches me, holding the tray in front of me. Instinctively, I extend my hands, briefly touching the flame before bringing the blessing to my forehead. I then lightly dip my forefinger into one of the bowls of powder and apply it to my forehead, feeling as if I’ve been praying this way all my life.
Inside the Sri Mariamman Temple, you’ll find the sacred image of Sri Drowpathi Amman, also known as Draupadi, revered for her beauty, courage, and sacrifice.