Repelled by Religion, Embraced by Spirit

As part of the fair, the tourist board had organised a lot of different cultural events showcasing the differing artists of Rajasthan. In the evening, I set out to sample a few.

The first was some spiritual music played on the Ghats, the steps of the Holy Pushkar Lake. As I walked down, shoes in hand, and then made my usual prayerful gesture of respect a man came up to me.

'I am Brahmin Priest, I give you blessing'.

'Thanks, but I am not a Hindu. I think it best if make my own prayers'.

No! I give you special blessing. this holy place!' he said insistently.

I had been warned about the pushy priests of the Ghats who would say a prayer and then charge extortionate amounts, but I was intrigued a little bit, so I acquiesced.

'Ok, repeat after me. Brahma, Pooja, Shiva'

'Brahma, Puja, Shiva'

'Vishnu, Krishna, Puja' he intoned. I copied.

Sivarti, Ganesha, Puka'.

It went on, seemingly a random selection of Gods and Hindu words. I tried to stop, but he carried on with more. And the more he said, the less sense it seemed.

'Kali, Puja, Krishna' and so on. It didn't seem like a prayer or a blessing, just words designed to impress.

Eventually he stopped.

'Ok, you make donation now'.

'Ok, I will,' I said. 'I will put money in box'.

'No, NO! You give to him'. He pointed at another man, who approached holding up a card.

'No, I will put in the donation box'.

'NO! he Government approved, you give to him!'.

Despite expecting this pushy sales scam, I was clutched by an intense and overwhelming anger. How dare he try and use this holy place to make money off tourists in this way, playing on their respect for the culture.

'No! I will put in box'.

Part of me wanted to stand and argue, and give vent to my outrage, but another, respectful part, didn't want to dishonour these steps. I put some coins in the box, spun on my heels, and stalked off round the lake, not looking back.

I made my way to the main exhibition ground, still fuming. The loud music and different acts there, although colourful, were mostly alien and meaningless to me. A dance of Krishna and his consorts, bedecked in Peacok feathers, a stand up speaking in Hindi, some cross dressers doing a farce in song that I couldn't understand. I left tired and dispirited not really enjoying the carnival atmosphere around me.

Back at the hotel, it was peace and tranquility. It is run by a family - mother on reception, one son is the cook and restaurant manager, the other the general gust manager. As I entered, he appeared in saffron robes.

'They look cool;, I said.'Perfect for this heat'.

'These are my Puka clothes. When I am working I wear other stuff'. He said. 'Come, I will show you my temple'.

He pulled back a curtain, and there was his shrine. Pictures of the Hindu deities, little statues, incense and offering bowls.

'I pray here every day. It makes me feel good in my heart. See there, that picture, with Parvati she has feet in her heart, That is Krishnas feet. If you meditate on that every day, ten, fifteen minutes, then you will be full of peace. And strong and calm.

'Our bodie are just temporary. They age, get sick and will die. But our souls live on forever. They cannot die'. He grinned at me.

'There are many bad men around here. They say one thing, but they want money. But in my heart, there is only love. Only love. Every day I pray and I remember this. Here, have some of my passed'.

He gave me some sugar crystals, and nuts. There was indeed a gentle, calm warmth about him. I felt closer to the Hindu Gods with him than with the renta-priest at the lake.

That night I slept on the roof. The hotel was full due to the fair, and this was all they could offer me. But to sleep under the stars, cosy under a thick duvet was magical. I woke soon after sunrise, after a deep and refreshing sleep, to see a host of hot air balloons take to the sky.