This one will turn out to be something truly magical! But, I'll get to that part soon enough.
The ride to Puskar fits a pattern that I'm becoming used to. Crazy driver? Check. Insane traffic? Check. Roads randomly punctuated by all manner of rest stops and small, dusty, dirty villages? Check. Phish tunes playing in my earplugs? Check. Great conversations and laughter with my travel companions. Double check.
This kind of travel wears you down quickly and between that and the jet lag - my body still has no idea what time zone I'm in - I grow tired and and a bit cranky. I think, this sure is a long way to go just to see some lake and an old temple. Not for the first time, or the last, I will be proven wrong.
Manish and Charuta explain to me that Pushkar Lake and the Brahmin Temple located there is one of the most holy Hindu sites in the world. They make casual remarks, "Maybe we should get married there. You can be the witness, ha ha." I know they plan to go to Las Vegas for a quick legal marriage in a few weeks followed by a celebration in India so I brush this off as fun fantasy by two happy lovers.
As we enter the town, it becomes clear that this is not just another day in this holy place. We are arriving near sunset on Kartik Poornima, the most holy day of the year! The place is alive in a way that can't be described. There is something deep and spiritual here.
I am not a religious man. I'm a rationalist first and foremost. But I freely admit that the universe greatly exceeds our puny capacity to understand. I consider myself "mildly agnostic" believing humility is the best position to adopt. And yet, something special is going on in this place.
We reach the temple site which sits near the lake just as the sun is setting. There is a gathering place outside the temple with stairs that descend to the water. The crowd is buzzing, chanting and performing religious rites led by a small army of Hindu priests. The mystery and mystic feeling swells.
Manish and Charuta prepare to participate and encourage me to do so as well. I've tried to make it a practice to join in religious ceremonies that involve friends and family with an open heart (if not an exactly open mind) . The Jewish holidays and bar mitzvahs. Catholic mass. I've even attended Friday prayers at a mosque in a small town in Turkey. I am happy to participate.
We start as a small group with two Hindu priests but almost immediately they separate me from my friends. One priest goes with them while the other leads me down the ancient marble steps to the lake. The priest is friendly and his English is good enough that I can follow most of what he is telling me. He explains each step in the ritual and then leads me through the prayers. He marks my forehead in red and applies grains of rice. He ties a string around my wrist, "to bring you good luck as long as you wear." We chant and manipulate the ritual objects - a flower, a coconut, some water from the lake. I'm interested but in my normal detached observer way.
He begins to lead me through a series of prayers based on my answers to questions about my parents, my wife and my children.
Then something extraordinary happens. He asks me if I have lost someone close to me. I immediately flash to my beloved brother-in-law Jeff who died of cancer at a young age leaving my sister Ann a widow to raise her two beautiful girls alone. Something deep inside me cracks open. I can barely get the words out. "Yes", I say, "my brother-in-law Jeff". He responds, "Then we will pray for him and his soul will ascend to heaven immediately".
He begins to chant and I struggle to respond. Tears begin to flow. I have cried about Jeff a number of times thru the years. He has been gone a long time but the wound is always fresh. I've told Beth that I don't think I will ever get over it. Here, in this place I grieve again, feeling the pain deeply but also a bit of release. I don't really believe in Heaven or Hell but somehow, here I want to believe. My brother says Jeff is in Heaven sailing his boat on a beautiful sea. Tonight I can picture that clearly.
The ritual ends by anointing myself with water from the lake and casting the flower petals into the water. I gather myself and my emotions, make a small donation to support the priest and the local charity that feeds the village, and then wander off to find my friends.
I see them performing a ritual together led by first priest we met. I start to descend the stairs but another priest stops me and says I must not approach them, "They are performing a special ceremony". It is then that I realize that they are, in fact being married at this very moment and I am a witness.
Again I am overwhelmed and tears begin to flow again. But this time they are tears of joy. I think of my own wife Beth and the deep, rich history we share after almost 30 years together. I am filled with happiness and love for my friends. Even from this distance I can see the love in their eyes as they gaze at each other and perform the rituals.
As they ascend the stairs there is joy around them.... and now, a mischievous look in their eyes.
"Guess what we just did?", they almost giggle.
"You just got married!"
"How did you know?"
"How could I NOT know!"
I tell them how honored I am to have been a witness to all of this.
And I tell them about my tears.
First tears of sadness, then tears of joy.
