Exchange

Walk into almost any Hindu temple and you are likely to see a lot of

something. In a village goddess temple, hundreds of glass bangles of all colors hang on long strings along one wall in front of the deity’s chamber, the

garbagrāha. At a roadside shrine hang dozens of small wooden cradles from the branches of a pīpal tree. An image of Śiva is strewn with ball after ball of butter thrown by worshipers. In a sacred grove, hundreds of terracotta

horses line the route to a small open-air shrine to the god Aiyaṉār. Names

of donors adorn the walls-whether inscribed in old stone walls or on new

brass plaques. And during temple festivals, both deities and worshipers

may become bodily centers of dense material adornment: In some places,

children and youths vowing pots of milk to the goddess are smothered with

cloth and garlands and cash gifted by affi nes; possessed dancers bury their

ankles, arms, and necks with jewelry in silver and gold; and everywhere the

gods are dressed in bright clothing, stacks of necklaces, and piles of garlands

and are presented with heaps of ghī, grain, silk vestments, or other gifts. So, although many people associate Hinduism with a vague and ethereal

“spirituality,” it is in fact impossible to ignore the utter materiality of Hindu

practice and meaning. Exchange lies at the heart of this material practice.