Happy Birthday with a Three-Day Prayer

On Sunday while my USA family celebrated the 4^th of July, we celebrated my host dad’s 50^th birthday. As in a very religious family, the next year of his life should be properly blessed: by 11 Hindu priests doing an in-home Pooja (prayer) for 3 days.

The preparation began a day in advance: pounds upon pounds of vegetables and herbs from the market, cleaning the house and clearing the furniture so that the family and the priests could sit on the floor around two low tables. The priests are actually called Pundits, and are men from the Brahmin caste who have studied the Sanskrit texts and mantras in an Ashram.

The ritual began each day with a precise set-up: rice in patterns on top of the tablecloths. One of the patterns was the Indian Swastik, which did influence the German Swastika but here is the sign of holistic prosperity. In the center of each table was an idol of a Hindu god. During the pooja, the eldest pundit directed the sound, action, and the timing for tasting food and burning incense. He led the family members and other pundits in various hand gestures while he repeated various blessings, often joined by the host of pundits. The pooja was rife with placing food, money, and flower offerings in front of the gods, tossing rice towards the family members (the cooks and residents, too- myself included), warming the household’s hands and faces over fire, and sprinkling rose water. All the while, the deep resonating hum of spiritual songs surged, withdrew, and repeated.

In the midst of witnessing an unfamiliar religious ceremony, some things were still familiar: music as a way to connect with God, tossing rice as a blessing like some Americans do after weddings, and learning from spiritual leaders who have studied the sacred texts in depth. What a blessing it was to be invited to observe this solemn birthday celebration- new to me but familiar to the ages- and to have the chance to prepare and serve lunch to such respected Hindu gurus.

Typically representative of 21^st century India, my 4^th of July juxtaposed tradition with modernity. In the late afternoon Stephanie, my American roommate, our host brother, cousin and I went for a drive around Udaipur. Driving fast through winding streets, or standing up in the back of the open car- not simultaneously, don’t worry mom J- is a common experience among most who went through teen hood in a modern world. As we drove into the hotel owned by our extended host family, and later to our cousin’s home, I was confronted with luxury rarely surpassed even in the US. Still I have trouble reconciling extreme poverty with excessive wealth, especially in such proximity. But both are equally the “real India,” and I enjoyed both going through the villages and also jumping into the hotel’s pool and swimming in the monsoon rain surrounded by grand architecture and even more magnificent mountains.