Streets of London : Spun sugar and sheer devotion

Some days, things just don't work out, no matter how easy it looks. We decided today to visit the Bochasanwasi Akshar Purushottam Swaminarayan Sanstha Shri Swaminarayan Hindu Mandir which is a Hindu Temple and has been classified as one of the seven wonders of London. It is not too far away so we thought to take a bus. With traffic jams caused by road and suburb rebuilding that trip took us over an hour and a half: we could have walked in less time.

Coming home, too, took several trains and a bus change: transport between our sites not coordinating in any efficient or sensible way. Into the bargain, internal photographs were not allowed, so I have taken the liberty of using a couple from the internet too illustrate what we saw. Notwithstanding, the temple was well worth the frustration of the trip to and fro.

This is a sublime temple with the breathtaking beauty of the Taj Mahal: so unexpected in the dreary little suburb it is in, and so extraordinary in the tale of its construction. The only impossible thing for westerners is its name, so I am using its shorter title, here: the Neasden Temple.

The Indian community in London was growing, and, headed by its guru a call went out in the early 1970's for a larger mandir, or temple, to be built. Congregations had to agree, plans based on ancient Hindu temple principles had to be drawn and adjusted to suit local building codes, building materials had to be sought, ordered and coordinated; funds found, workers organised. In a marathon of perfect coordination, timing and execution, a temple came into being within just 20 years, built on a lot that had been a derelict old Neasden car park until then.

The stone was ordered: 2,000 tonnes from the same marble mountain that Michelangelo used for his David were lifted from the Carrara quarry in Tuscany. A different marble, 920 tonnes of it, came from the province of Gujarat, especially chosen for the ceiling. And from Bulgaria, 2,828 tonnes of limestone were sourced. Every piece of the stone was moved to workshops in Gujarat and Rajasthan where 1,526 stone sculptors set to work chipping them into dreamy tales of the veda, the scriptures.

Detailed, intricate, delicate stone works, inside the temple and out, drip in figures as if moulded from white spun sugar confection. Its spires and domes, tiny temples and prayer squares, arches, pillars and pedestals are minutely carved, lovingly carved, prayerfully carved. A work of art and devotion. By devotees, seeking perfection.

And when the stone carving was done, 26,300 pieces of decorated white stone were individually numbered, crated and shipped to London, where, piece by piece devoted volunteers, thousands of them, came daily to build the temple with their own hands, with the help of just a score of stone specialists brought out from India to finalise the last bit of cutting and polishing. Some of the devotees actually closed down their businesses for the duration and devoted themselves to the work until it was finished. A giant's lego puzzle, with no other material used.

Women and children took to selling curries, recycling cans, making money to cover the costs. In the end it cost £12 million, not counting all the donated time, effort and energy. And the community funded it all themselves. It is worth every penny. It makes you cry it is just so exquisite. People literally stand on one spot, turn slowly, trying somehow to absorb it, their mouths agape. Prince Charles has been back four times, we were told. And as everyone does, he smiles at the sheer beauty of it all, but, no doubt, has a sharp tear in his eye, as well.

The murti, tiny figurines of the deities, adorn altars around the sides and back of the temple. They are fed, bathed and dressed in a complicated ritual of ceremonies and mantras throughout the day. We arrived just before their siesta, so we could see them in all their elaborate glory.

Attached to the temple is the haveli, a hall used for prayer, sports and community activities: made of teak from Burma and oak from England: all the pieces of timber to be carved were sent to master wood carvers in India, before being shipped to England for assembly, as with the stone. For the 226 English oak trees used in the construction the community contributed 2,300 English oak saplings that were planted in Devon. The wood carving, like the marble, is extraordinary. We came away utterly enchanted.