Remembrance

With a small stature, jovial Varunji comes to work everyday with a big bindhu (forehead application) from the mandir (temple). Naturally, I asked him to help me complete my shraadh puja for Mom.


(The gate to the temple, Chandpaul 8:15AM)

And so, on Friday (the prescribed date) he took me to Chandpaul, to the holiest place he knew, the origin of his caste. It was unique (even for India) in that the whole town was seemingly populated by pundits, pujaris, sadhu-types, and many people who looked typical on first glance yet with revealing braids of hair as they walked past. We walked up different sets of steps, each opening to a different ashram, higher and higher into the Jodhpur hills. Ultimately, the topmost place near a small pond was our destination, and there we were greeted by Premlalji, my pundit. An old man, a good and caring man.



Varunji snapped a few photos with his cell and left me with the indispensable Ramswarthji. He had lost someone recently but due to his caste couldn't perform the puja in the way I was permitted. I was moved by the fact that I could facilitate the fulfillment of his own sense of duty.


(Ramswarthji)



The puja, consisting of 3hours of chanting with fire, offerings, and various gesticulations, went as expected. Highly symbolic in nature, in a way, it is a ritual which helps the performer cope with the grief of loss. In remembrance, it is a way by which we focus deeply on our departed ancestors, how their lives have influenced us, changed us, composed us. We symbolically give and sacrifice every element that contributes to our perceptions of reality. Emotion, intellect, physical movement, sensations, nourishment, fire, earth, water, and air. Regardless of belief in subscribed religious duty, it is meaningless without sincerity.

Afterwards, satisfied and at peace I spent time on the windy stoop of the hilltop mandir contemplating my own composition, and what she had unconditionally given me in my life. So many things I can't even comprehend. But most of all, love.