When the camel fair is not in session, the other 50 weeks of the year, Pushkar is a major holy place and destination pilgrimage site. (I do not distinguish between religion and tourism; not since seeing Chartres many years ago). And the November full moon is the choice time to be in Pushkar, celebrating the Lord Brahma's convocation of the 900,000 celestial beings here. Some time ago.
As everyone knows, Brahma, the Creator, is one of the three chief Hindu gods. Vishnu, the Preserver, and Shiva, the Destroyer, are the others. For reasons that can only be described as obscure--no, wait, there's nothing obscure here, just patently absurd ("to non-believers," Vicki insists I add; look it up in the Wikipedia)--there is only one temple for Brahma and only one place in the entire world where Brahma is venerated and worshiped: Pushkar. Let's just say it has to do with the wrath of a scorned river goddess/wife, some astrology, and being late for a ceremony. Evidently Hindus are real sticklers for punctuality. Anyhow, apart from an abiding interest in camels, Lord Brahma, the Creator, is why we are in Pushkar.
So today (November 14) we toured Pushkar's two major religious attractions: the Brahma Temple and Lake Pushkar. We also made some offerings to Brahma at the Temple and consummated these further at the Lake, where a priest officiated (for only 50 rupees each; the religious equivalent of steerage), and we confessed our sins and asked for good karma for everybody, and world peace, all in Hindi. "Repeat after me," the priest said. Actually, we have no idea what we said or did, except for dropping plates of flowers, rice, sugar, the red- and yellow-dot sticky stuff, etc., into the lake, and having small amounts of lake water sprinkled on us. Fortunately, neophytes and gullible tourists don't have to do full immersion like Baptists. All this with shoes removed, too, twice. Hank, our guide, seemed pleased. I am sure he gets a commission from the priest. Obama will take care of the world peace.
It would all have been over in an hour, but we had to fax something to the customs authorities in New Zealand, and this occasioned a major Hank-led walking tour of beautiful downtown Pushkar in search of a working fax machine. Thus we got to see major parts of the town and interesting sights we had missed in our two previous forays. Yesterday we walked (or were pushed and shoved) along some of these same streets, but saw little except the sea of humanity of which we were a part. It was a bit scary at times, and it occurred to me briefly that a particularly ignominious way for me to go would be the victim of trampling by a panicked throng of the faithful. (Do atheists have martyrs?) Frenzied religious trampling happens often in India, most recently in Jodhpur, where something like a hundred pilgrims were so killed last month. (Vicki, of course, has a trampling/contingency plan: climb or hug a tree. This is the desert, I observe.)
Untrampled, we returned to Royal Safari Camp by noon, in time to see the last tour bus depart and to witness the disassembly of tents, beds, furniture, temporary water and sewage lines, and so forth. I have closed a few bars in my time, but never a safari camp, much less a royal one. The owner said he had two more festival gigs to do in November, one in December, and New Year's. "Indians really like to celebrate the New Year in the desert," he said. Less chance of trampling....
Anyhow, the camel fair is over. The dogs may bark, but the caravan moves on. We have moved on too, first to Ajmer, a city to the west of Pushkar, and now, via the Shabatdi Express, en route to Delhi, our last stop in India.
As everyone knows, Brahma, the Creator, is one of the three chief Hindu gods. Vishnu, the Preserver, and Shiva, the Destroyer, are the others. For reasons that can only be described as obscure--no, wait, there's nothing obscure here, just patently absurd ("to non-believers," Vicki insists I add; look it up in the Wikipedia)--there is only one temple for Brahma and only one place in the entire world where Brahma is venerated and worshiped: Pushkar. Let's just say it has to do with the wrath of a scorned river goddess/wife, some astrology, and being late for a ceremony. Evidently Hindus are real sticklers for punctuality. Anyhow, apart from an abiding interest in camels, Lord Brahma, the Creator, is why we are in Pushkar.
So today (November 14) we toured Pushkar's two major religious attractions: the Brahma Temple and Lake Pushkar. We also made some offerings to Brahma at the Temple and consummated these further at the Lake, where a priest officiated (for only 50 rupees each; the religious equivalent of steerage), and we confessed our sins and asked for good karma for everybody, and world peace, all in Hindi. "Repeat after me," the priest said. Actually, we have no idea what we said or did, except for dropping plates of flowers, rice, sugar, the red- and yellow-dot sticky stuff, etc., into the lake, and having small amounts of lake water sprinkled on us. Fortunately, neophytes and gullible tourists don't have to do full immersion like Baptists. All this with shoes removed, too, twice. Hank, our guide, seemed pleased. I am sure he gets a commission from the priest. Obama will take care of the world peace.
It would all have been over in an hour, but we had to fax something to the customs authorities in New Zealand, and this occasioned a major Hank-led walking tour of beautiful downtown Pushkar in search of a working fax machine. Thus we got to see major parts of the town and interesting sights we had missed in our two previous forays. Yesterday we walked (or were pushed and shoved) along some of these same streets, but saw little except the sea of humanity of which we were a part. It was a bit scary at times, and it occurred to me briefly that a particularly ignominious way for me to go would be the victim of trampling by a panicked throng of the faithful. (Do atheists have martyrs?) Frenzied religious trampling happens often in India, most recently in Jodhpur, where something like a hundred pilgrims were so killed last month. (Vicki, of course, has a trampling/contingency plan: climb or hug a tree. This is the desert, I observe.)
Untrampled, we returned to Royal Safari Camp by noon, in time to see the last tour bus depart and to witness the disassembly of tents, beds, furniture, temporary water and sewage lines, and so forth. I have closed a few bars in my time, but never a safari camp, much less a royal one. The owner said he had two more festival gigs to do in November, one in December, and New Year's. "Indians really like to celebrate the New Year in the desert," he said. Less chance of trampling....
Anyhow, the camel fair is over. The dogs may bark, but the caravan moves on. We have moved on too, first to Ajmer, a city to the west of Pushkar, and now, via the Shabatdi Express, en route to Delhi, our last stop in India.
“Oh God, please don't let him put any of that water on us."
2 comments:
"totally profound but deeply obscure"
Truly profound. It turned out OK though. We're going to have some time and a decent connection, so you'll be hearing more from me.
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