Twenty-something Kavitha Kailasam works in the banking business and usually hangs out in jeans and a T-shirt. But on Saturday, she put on an Indian tunic called a salwar and ventured onto a scrubby field that baked in the sizzling sun.

"I came of my own will," insisted the chic Kailasam, with a grin.

"Bribes usually work," quipped her mother, Selvi.

Saturday's event was worth the effort, bribes or not. Under protective tents, the Kailasams - including Kavitha's brother, Vijay, who wore a Michigan T-shirt - were among 100 to 200 Hindus celebrating a sacred poojaa to sanctify the land. It's a 4.25-acre lot in Centennial on South Potomac Street, a stone's throw south of Arapahoe Road.

For two hours, surrounded by the crowd and wafting clouds of incense, chief Denver priest Acharya Upadhyaya and other priests and benefactors sat cross- legged and chanted Sanskrit praises to a long line of deities, among the thousands they revere as manifestations of God.

For years, Hindus have crammed into a converted ranch-style home in Littleton to worship. But if all goes as planned, by the end of 2009, this place, bordered in the distance by office parks and condo developments, will be an inhabitable, if not totally completed, 12,000-square-foot temple and community center for Colorado's 5,000 Hindus.

On display was a marble plaque listing hundreds of motivated donors.

In January, they paid $500,000 for the land, and they expect to raise another $2.4 million toward the temple without much trouble.

These highly educated immigrants from India, many of whom came in the 1970s, now are a pillar in the pantheon of American engineers, physicians and technology entrepreneurs.

"This won't be just a spiritual place, but a place for the community to gather," said Paritosh Kaul, a Denver pediatrician.

He and wife, Arti, send their two kids to public schools but are eager for them to have Hindu friends, too.

Already, many in the younger generation, like the Kailasam siblings, have drifted from their Hindu religion and plunged into American culture.

With a temple, "maybe that will help us have a better connection," mused Kavitha Kailasam.

In an era of festering immigration wounds, the Hindu community has blended, with seeming ease, into American culture.

Kaul explained their philosophy: "We like to be like sugar in water - you add just a little, and it sweetens the whole thing. But not so much that you see it."

Besides prayers to the deities, the Hindus relied on Realtor Stephanie Bryant, who searched from Littleton to Aurora to find the right spot. "It was hard; not everybody wants a religious institution near them," said Bryant, who was among Saturday's well-wishers. She added: "These were wonderful people to work with - professional and straightforward. I just really enjoyed it."

Likewise, the city of Centennial welcomed a religious neighbor (today, many municipalities don't), though the project still faces zoning and other compliance hurdles as well as public hearings.

In the meantime, the dream of having a real temple for marriage ceremonies and funerals has energized Narender (Ned) Kumar, 60, owner of an engineering business and head of the temple committee.

On Sunday, he celebrated with his wife, Camille, 58, a Denver native, whom he married five years ago.

Without a temple, where did they marry?

"Hudson Gardens," chuckled Camille, referring to the popular events center.

Kumar dreams of even more - a complex where, someday, the public can visit Indian shops, restaurants, theaters and even yoga classrooms.

"I might not be around to see it," Kumar said, "but flash forward 50 years, when people think, 'Gosh, this is a nice place.' "

torkelsonj@RockyMountainNews.com or 303-954-5055