28 November 2008. Pushkar.
Considered the city of a thousand temples, Pushkar probably has more, if one considers all of the corner shrines and side guru halls. The entire town encircles a small lake, hidden from street vendors, as well as temples, but the 50+ ghats (landing steps) that lead pilgrims to the water. Behind the ghats, then, are concentric rings of streets and side streets, marked by small, almost hidden temples, shops, and many larger temples. There is a Sikh gurdwara (temple) here as well, but it is well place outside of the mass of sacred Hindu mandirs and the ghats. A nearby town, Ajmer, is predominantly Muslim, and I hope to speak to this later.
The main reason most people come here, besides the ghats and purification rituals, is to see what is the only Brahma temple in the world. Lonely Planet says there may be two, but this one is the main one, and maybe the only one. In the oldest Hindu texts, the Vedas, a Trimurti (trinity) of gods is mentioned – Brahma (creator), Vishnu (sustainer), and Shiva (destroyer, or re-creator). As Hinduism develops, Brahma is emphasized less and less, and thus the small number of temples. Tradition, or later texts, tell that Brahma wanted to perform a purification ritual at this lake, and when his wife Sarvriti did not attend, he became angry and married another. Sarvriti did not take this well, and she vowed that he would never be worshipped again.
She also apparently won over the lake, literally. Her temple stands proudly on a tall hill (in Texas we call it a mountain, but here they have the Himalayas to compare) overlooking the lake. The walk to her temple becomes a rather rugged climb; guidebooks say it takes an hour, but my body and my watch say it takes longer. I found the climb enjoyable for about half of the way, but the views become more and more grand, and pride demands we Texas men carry on. Near the top, I was taking 5 steps and resting, then 5 more. At the top, the temple is rather simple, but I was glad to have made the trek.
In addition to the religious significance and the view, the lemurs were enjoyable to watch. They run wild in Rajasthan, and I’ve seen a number of them. They also become quite bold. On my way down, a family approached, and the monkees ran up and snatched their worship offerings from their hands. I had forgotten to leave mine (you are required to purchase a packet on the way up), so I gave it to them; they smiled, and expressed the Namaste (“I see God in you”) greeting. A bit later, I met an elderly couple, already straining but determined to make the trek up. We smiled at each other, I reached out my hand to pull the woman up a few steps, and she turned, brought her hands up, and expressed Namaste to me. I will not forget her eyes; she seemed to make a genuine and deep contact with me. But I was not done; a little later yet, I met a family. One of the older sons began a conversation. Because so many conversations on the street quickly turn to requests for me to buy something, I was hesitant, but soon his entire family joined him, and we exchanged pleasant conversation. He (Ram) and his brothers and I shared picture-taking.
Earlier I found the Brahma temple and experienced a “lotus dropping.” One of the frustrations here is the way many people want to become your guide, “no money” required. One met me in the train station in Amritsar, one offered to carry my bag, and here at the Brahma temple, a “student” of the temple, he said, persisted in showing me around. I did learn a bit, so I cannot be too disturbed for the small cost of 50 rupees (about one dollar). So, he takes my shoes and guides me in (no pictures allowed). First, I take a bowlful of lotus flowers, and we walk toward the main shrine area, where the four-headed Brahma image sits. I offer the bowl to a priest/monk, who adds a bit of food – a hard rockish crackery looking substance. The guide explains that he has blessed my bad karma -- blessed, accepted, forgiven, I can’t remember the word. Then, after a brief tour of the monk’s quarters and the overall temple area, we are off to the nearby ghat, where I am led to a priest who sits with me near the water , tells me about the symbolisms, and proceeds to guide me through the ritual. Lost in trying to understand his voice, wondering occasionally if I was committing (unknowingly, I must add) some horrible sin, and trying to keep flies and wasps off of my face, I forget the details. But I recognized the spice dust – yellow and red, and the many of the words in the prayers, which essentially spoke of God blessing me and my family. Then, all of a sudden, he marks me with the dot on my forehead, ties a braided string on my wrist, and encourages me to offer my karma (lotus flowers, food, etc.) to the lake, to Push-kar, which means lotus-drop.
Now, to my family and employer: Have no fear, I have not converted to Hinduism. The experience was one of those unexpected serendipities of traveling in India, and I’ve learned yet again a great deal more about the Hinduism that I try to teach in a few weeks each year. There is interesting symbolism here in the whole event, and how it all connects to the mythologies of the gods. And most interesting to me is the way that Hindus show both the need for purification and the ways that the gods, and the priests make it possible. In terms of Christian theology, we would surely call all the stops to pray in front of shrines, and bell ringing at the temples, and offerings to the gods, and pushkar rituals, all of this we would label “works” and quickly note how grace is the free gift to peace. But we too have our rituals, and we too tend to turn what is culturally inevitable and richly experiential and rightly suited to our contexts into endless need to works. So – for me anyway – I’m being reminded that we as humans will always symbolize and ritualize and make visibly real what we feel and what we need, and this process is in itself good and normal.
Some processes, however, are dangerous. How Hindus can wash in water that is, well, very dirty, with streets crowded with cows, other animals, human and animal waste, food products, and flies – millions of flies – I don’t understand. (And I hesitate to mention it because I don’t want to characterize this situation as equating with the people or the religion). Perhaps part of the answer comes in the response I receive from hotel employees when I expressed concern about the Mumbai terrorism: “It is no matter; there is nothing to do; if it is your time, God will take you.” God is in control. Hmm.
Perhaps a final note about travel. Every scholar friend whom I asked told me to get a driver for parts of India. I understand why now; one simply cannot get around to all the places otherwise; taxis are not common in the rural areas, and trains only get you so far. So for these five days, I have a driver, which costs about $100 over what trains would cost. It’s a bargain, believe me.
slp
