How necessary was it for the Ram Mandir to have been built exactly on that spot? If Ram is everywhere then why did the Hindus need a temple precisely on that spot?

I am a practising Sanatani living in the Netherlands.

They have Hindu temples here that are open to masses on the weekends and there is a church right across my house, my days start with the soothing churchbells. My mom gave me a little Ganpatiji and Amba mata when I was leaving home and I found Saraswati ma and Laxmi ji that match perfectly to the set. So they along with pictures of my ancestors sit restfully on my table. I pray to them every morning. I wear a raksha potli from Mahudi and two others from the annual Satyanarayan katha my parents arrange for us. I chant the Hanuman Chalisa every day and listen to Ek Onkar Satnam when I journal.

My connection to a god is not a newfound interest. It was also not taught to me as a kid. I picked these little habits from my family growing up. I have been this way since I was in third grade. I used to do the morning diya before going to school because my dad did it at our factory and always wear a raksha potli because my aunt used to wear one too and go to the Jain temple every morning to do puja during summer vacations because my grandma did that year round and touch my elders’ feet on all important days because all my elders did that too. Once I became a teenager, I started reading a lot of Indian mythology which sparked my interest in religion even more.

Now, I am in no shape or form a good Jain or the perfect Hindu. In terms of the rules of the religion, I cannot follow them all and so I “sin.” However, my understanding of religion or Sanatan is a personal journey. I read up and listen to podcasts and find out more, only to sit and choose what resonates with me and what I am willing and able to do. Thus, saying I am religious might instigate people. So I say I am spiritual. I have a private relationship with my gods and my sins, my devotion and my religious practices are between me and them.

Nevertheless, I am a practising Sanatani living in the Netherlands. It has been almost two years now and it has been tough. It has been tough to find god here. I don’t feel a presence. There is no guiding light, no banter about what rules are in the Puranas and what the priests made up. There is no Diwali or Mahashivratri. No Navratri or Ganesh Chaturthi. I go through my day without feeling the presence of a higher energy. And that is just not okay. I need my gods. I need my faith! It is the only thing worth living for! The planet is burning, the economy is dying, there is literally a war being fought and you don’t know how many days you have left. At the core of it all, you and I are quite powerless. We do not know what is to come. How do you then wake up every day and go along with your life? How do you convince yourself that by recycling your garbage, avoiding fast fashion, participating in protests and eating healthy, you are doing enough for the world? I can’t. I need more. There has to be more. And so I pray.

But do you know how difficult it is to believe when there is this vacuum in the space where once used to be stories of Ram and Hanuman and Ashwasthama and Shiv Shakti? Do you know how scary it is to be in charge of your decisions when there is no one telling you “upar wala sab dekh lega?” Do you know how ruthless the world feels without your parents’ hand on your head when you seek their blessings? Do you know how you starve even on a full stomach when you have not had prasad from a random old lady in months? Do you know how noisy the world feels when you haven’t heard the chants reverberating in the marble temple walls in ages? You start to dream about the gods.

I think there is a reason I was born in India. There must have been a karmic connection between my soul and that land for I feel so lost in this foreign land.

There is just something about being in a temple. The air feels different, filled with the scent of chandan. The floors are cold and there is chaos in the chanting and the dhols and screaming. The kum kum stains my fingers, my head and my heart. The long queues feel like penance to see my sweet gods and the prasad is the sweet reward after. The 3 seconds you get to look directly into the eyes of the idol; be it Ambaji or Kashi Vishwanath or Mahudi, the 3 full seconds feel like a lifetime I have waited for. Those are my 3 seconds, private between me and my god. I have lengthy conversations, strategic barters and endless gratitude in those 3 seconds.
Oh how I love being a Sanatani! I love that I get to have so many gods and so many stories.

I know, I know my faith comes from within and so my god is within but I struggle to have faith in the Netherlands. I just do.
That is precisely why I get it. I get why we need to have the Ram mandir exactly there. Some places, some people and some stories are tied to each other to the point that you can’t tell one from another.

Mandir toh vahin banega na jahan aastha ho?