Giving thanks: a puja

        Yesterday I had the pleasure of attending a puja here in Georgetown. I was invited via Elizabeth (my friend and neighbor here) by her Guyanese Indian friend, Anu. I met Anu earlier this week, and she was thoughtful enough to mention to Elizabeth that I could come along. I'd like to tell you the puja was like nothing I had ever seen, because it deserves this sort of introduction, but I did attend a puja once in India to celebrate the Hindu God Krishna's birthday. Regardless of this meager experience with the celebration, it was extraordinary. I have consulted Wikipedia (my favorite) to best describe a puja to you the reader. A puja is a Hindu religious ritual that is performed on various occasions to show respect to God. The purpose of the puja is to maintain a communication between God and earth. The puja can also serve as a ritual to offer praise and thanks to God. The puja can vary in elaborateness depending on the ocassion, a puja could be as simple as a daily communication with God or as grand an event as the one I participated in yesterday. It can likely be very much more elaborate as well. 

This puja I was honored to attend, was the first Anu's family had performed since the murder of her mother, almost a year ago, so it was all the more significant. There was a Hindu priest at Anu's father's home to lead the puja and her extended family was 

present for the event as well.  Many of the attendees were dressed in what I know as traditional Indian (and perhaps Indian Guyanese) attire. On this occasion Anu's brother and his wife were the primary participants in the puja, so they were the main people interacting with the priest and giving offerings to God. Anu explained to me after the ceremony, that whoever wants to participate can, and that their was no particular significance to this brother and his wife's role today. The rituals that unfolded as the puja began were beautiful, ceremonious and detailed. The priest sang/chanted mostly in Sanskrit, with occasional prayers or instructions offered in English. He directed the couple participating, in the rituals they performed while sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of a framed picture of a deity. There were many, many offerings made to the diety, thus symbolically, to God. Wikipedia explains these offerings well, saying: "regardless of scale, all Puja's follow the same  simple principle, treat the diety like an esteemed (human) guest." 

During the puja there was chanting (mantra) and scripture reading (svadhyaya) and most beautifully, a detailed, ceremonious offering of food. The couple were handed flower after beautiful flower, spices of differing brilliant colors, rice, oils, coconut, fragrance, something that looked like honey, and other items I was uncertain of- As the priest handed the couple these items, they in turn offered them to God. They laid them one at a time in front of the symbol of God, creating in essence, a beautiful, colorful multi-layered pile of offerings before the picture. Often what I think was water, or ganga, 

was poured from a beautiful slightly folded, green leaf onto the offerings. The priest two times rang a bell ceremoniously and blew into a shell as if a horn, producing a commanding, musical sound. There was a fire made as offering and to be honest so much more occurred that I could only begin to imagine the meaning of, as I sat in front of this cross-legged on the floor. I could never do it justice with my limited, unversed words. There was a washing of feet and hands, a large red flag was blessed and attached to what looked like a bamboo trunk. After receiving her own from the priest, a woman went around the room applying what is called a tilaka mark on the forehead of all present. The vermillion dot placed on each individual's forehead, from a thumbprint of sandlewood paste. 

Toward the close of the puja the couple as well as the younger family members present each performed a blessing of sorts, to the elders by offering a metal tray with fire and various other items before their elders and prostrating at the feet of the elders and the priest. In a beautiful exchange the elder lightly touched the younger individual's back in recognition. I observed as a mother watched with nervousness, anticipation and pride, as her young daughter performed the ritual, seemingly for the very first time.  It was around this time, that I noticed that the eyes of Anu's father were glassy from tears. I cast my own eyes downward suddenly embarassed to be witnessing such an intimate moment, and knew immediately this was a time when everyone was poignantly aware of who was missing from the celebration. Thinking of the tragic loss the family had experienced when Anu's mother was killed. I discretely glanced sideways and saw tears streaming down Anu's cheeks as she hugged her father, who was by this time wiping his eyes with a handkerchief. As my own eyes filled with tears, I again glanced down at my own hands clasped in the way I had once learned to hold them during prayer, and I squeezed them tightly as I swallowed to hold back from crying. In that moment I felt a confusing mix of shame for my removed, tearful sympathy and yet simultaneously in this country far from my own family, I experienced a personal sadness and longing for my family as well as theirs. I felt in that moment utterly saddened by the loss this family had experienced and extremely grateful for my own loved ones, however far away from me. I resolved that this is the point of puja, thanksgiving.  

Before a puja, it is tradition that no one eats anything, and as the puja ended it seemed that women came out of the woodwork. In a practiced and efficient manner the women took charge of the food. One woman handed me the largest, green leaf I have ever laid eyes on- this would serve as my plate. Then in succession, women carrying huge bowls served one item of food after another turning my green leaf into a palate of color. There was white rice to start, and then tumeric colored daal, pumpkin curry, spinach curry, mango curry, channa (chick pea) & potato curry, and one final curry I could not identify. Then there was a dallop of achar and several "special rotis" were handed to me and identified as such. Roti is a flat bread eaten by many here in Guyana, as well as a traditional Indian bread. The special roti was actually later described as being Puri, which is in fact different than roti, but a delicious unleavened, flat bread all the same. And, after the food was served, Elizabeth and I began eating, each timid, with our right hand serving as utensil. Many of the family members laughed and asked if we had ever eaten in this manner before, and a beautiful young girl began instructing Elizabeth on the way to do it. "Mix all the food together, like this!" She stirred with her hand. "Then eat it. Like this!" She demonstrated. So I scooped up my food with my fingers. With my three middle fingers and occasionally my thumb, I used the rice as the glue to cradle the others delicacies, proud to have previous experience with this method of bringing food to mouth. Having done this in India, eight years ago, and in particular on Krishna's Birthday celebration there, when I also ate off of a large leaf. Next we were instructed to fold over a side of our leaf and huge spoonfuls of rice pudding was served onto the clean underside, our new bowl. Perhaps one of the richest and sweetest desserts I have ever had, it's primary ingredient was condensed milk. The meal was extraordinary, and after working very hard to finish off my super-sized portion of rice pudding and 2 more puri, that mysteriously slipped onto my leaf, I was the fullest I have been since being in Guyana. Very much like Thanksgiving, although I was all them more satisfied, since the amazing meal was entirely vegetarian. 

I gave thanks for the rest of the evening, thanks to the family for their generosity, for the incredible food, and for sharing such a special event with me, for all intents and purposes, a stranger. I also gave thanks for my own family and all the love they give me. Thanks for everything I have to be thankful for.