Not really, because this is one to a deity who might well be considered his polar opposite, the austere figure of Pazhani Andavar. But I (Deepa) was reading in C.S. Murugesan’s book on Pondicherry temples about a temple to Kamadeva being built – not on Kaman Koyil street as we saw in Lawspet (yes, Murugesan mentions this detail) during the Veerabhadraswamy Koyil Alagu Sevai, but in Muthialpet. There is a 60 page section in the book, complete with stories and songs – to a deity who has effectively no temple. Where, then, do we find or sing stories to Kama?
We went in search of this temple with Manish, dragging him along on our forays. The shilpi for this temple apparently had a dream indicating to him that this should not be a temple to Kama, but to Pazhani Andavar, so Kama (as Manmatha) and Rati are stucco figures in front and at the back of the shrine. We happen to go on the eve of Uttira Nakshatram naal (Arun’s birth star!), when people who wish to get married or find a match or anything related to romantic woes I suppose come, offer three garlands (one to Kamadeva, one to Rati, and one for themselves which they must bring back a month later). We consider coming back for this the next day but don’t make it back.
The temple’s major festival is Panguni Utthiram time, when the Pazhani Andavar utsavar comes out as Manmatha and marries Rati (I think, or is it a Murugar Kalyanam since it’s Panguni Utthiram?).
We also wandered into a Mutthalamman Koyil with a lovely patch of garden, where Her trident was shaking apparently without anyone being nearby or having touched it (& Manish is talking about the isolation of ourselves from the vagaries of the world as a different definition of selfhood, while ours is deeply enmeshed with apparently extraneous causes – what the shaking trident portends about me)