The Pujari

The Pujari

People looked up to the Pujari of the Rama temple in Heeranagar with a vehement sense of veneration. They believed that the mantras he enunciated daily filled the air around the temple with the smell of God. Every morning, in his falsetto, the Pujari chanted and sang the bhajans and the mantras followed by the local people, who came and gathered around him in the temple for a sing-song. The old Pujari lived alone in a small house beside the temple, where people would come in the afternoon, seeking his help and blessings. 

Sitting in the courtyard with his bhaktas, the pujari patiently listened to their problems, and then in his characteristic style and charisma, with his head tilted above, and eyes gazing somewhere else, he offered them a universal solution for most of the problems: “Belief in God. These (these problems of yours’) are Vidhii ka Vidhaan (destiny)” and “This is all HIS Maya. There is no value in all this, for a person who knows.” Most of his sermons peremptorily ended in these two statements and the people who obsequiously listened to him, would take his word for it and go back home.

But for the people who implored him to solve their problems, he was a miracle master. In the neighborhood, there were stories of him once resurrecting a dead man, curing an infant child with the touch of his hand, and even getting a local kid admitted to the school of her parent’s desire. Per his own belief, the miracles that happened were all because of his sadhana and bhakti for the Lord. He would often go on to the extent of saying that the “Tatas” and the “Birlas” are his devotees and have invited him into their houses for hawans. He would often blurt a made-out anecdote: “Once they (the Tatas) asked me ‘Maharaj How do you do these miracles?”  “And I simply replied, ‘I have done nothing. It is His Will that your business is running so well. Maybe I am the medium but I don’t have any share of this.’ he said in an unassumingly innocent tone.

 The locals took care of his ration and food but he did not earn much as a Pujari. Rags of onions and potatoes, tins of ghee, sweets, mangoes, bananas, and other fruits were sent for him regularly by his loyal devotees who believed him to be God-sent. Besides that, everything else was also taken care of, like his bad teeth. On his complaining of pain in his tooth the local tehsildar Nandan took him to a local dentist Dr. Namita. She carefully examined his mouth and teeth with her probes and mirrors and concluded that several teeth were deceased and down, a lot of them rotten, accompanied by bad breath and bad gums, all of which made the whole treatment quite laborious, especially because it was a mouth of an old man. 

The Pujari was already seventy and she felt breaking all his teeth will be a very painful and long procedure even with anesthesia, so she gave him an appointment for a root canal three days later. After his check-up, she especially took out time to talk to him. The Pujari with his usual tact of listening patiently, and then overstating and exaggerating, made her build trust in him in a very unassumingly innocent manner as always. Embezzled, she asked him. “Also, do you know Jyotish-shastra Babaji?”

“I have God’s grace that’s why people come to me. That’s why you want to come to me”, he replied in sway.

“I need your help Babaji. When can I come, and meet you?”

“Oh!  But my teeth are yet to be treated completely and they give me a bad time. If you could finish this sooner….” 

“Babaji…I will. I have given you the latest appointment possible because I already have appointments till the day after tomorrow. I have given you some medicines also and don’t worry there will be no discomfort whatsoever now. The painkillers will take care of that. You must follow the food specifics as told and all will be fine. And in just two more sittings we will get done with your root canal treatment. But Babaji, can I come to meet you after work in the evening?” He had to agree.

In the evening, the poor woman came searching in the shabby gullies of the town for the old temple where the Pujari lived. She arrived at his house and bowed down to touch his feet, and the Pujari waved his palm at her. The lady then told him about her young sister’s tumultuous marriage, who was married and living in America for the past five years and has also borne a child. Unfortunately, nothing was going well between the couple now, and they were considering filing for a divorce. So, the lady asked for updates from the Pujari. But the Pujari was dumbstruck as to what to tell her and what not to. He fumbled for answers and talked of Rahu ruining most marriages.

“Is your sister earning?”

“Yes, Babaji. She is a doctor like me.”

“Oh, I See.”

“What does her husband do?”

“He is a businessman Babaji.”

“These businessmen have made everything a business. These scoundrels don’t have a sense that family is not a business,” he replied in riposte. “Do one thing. Ask her to recite Hanuman Chalisa every day. Lord Hanuman the Sankat-Mochan will take care of her. And ask her to come and meet me.” “But what you sow, that you reap. She must have done something wrong in her past life and she is your sister but maybe she is not a good wife.” he spoke in a way but quickly added, “I am just giving two perspectives. Tell her to be strong and to believe in God. Her life is long and she will see a lot. She has a child she must take care of her. Because rearing a child is the biggest responsibility and the biggest joy. God will take care of her and her family. Bring her to me sometime.”

And then he quickly reached out to a mound of ash from the hawan firepit, mixed it with some raw rice, and wrapped it in a piece of newspaper and gave it to her. “Ask her to eat few grains of this daily till this lasts. All would be fine”, he said with seeming conviction. 

She now understood what this Pujari-Ji was. A man of no knowledge, and no sense, followed by poor people on the grounds of plain superstition. His talks were nauseating for her. The discussion between the two ended peremptorily with him ending his speech with his characteristic two-liners: “Believe in God. This is vidhi ka vidhaan. This is all HIS Maya. There is no value in all this, for a person who knows.” She had no more questions now, and clearly, no hope left. She silently bid a namaste and went away regretting her visit.

After three days, the Pujari visited the hospital again with Nandan for his appointment with Dr. Namita as scheduled. The receptionist told him to wait for her as she had not yet come. After an hour when she arrived, without batting an eye she quickly moved to her clinic and called on for other patients via the receptionist. When the Pujari questioned, she gave him another dentist’s number proclaiming the doctor is busy with too many patients and has no time for him. The doctor arrived at the scene at the same time.

 “Have you given him the number?”

“Yes, doctor.”

“Good.”

With a quick look at the Pujari, in just-about sarcasm, she added, “And this is vidhi ka vidhaan that if you eat too many sweets you will have bad teeth and it looks like you have eaten a lot.” “Now you go to this doctor Babaji. I will not be able to treat you further. I don’t have time. Namaskar”, she said and pointed to Nandan to take him, as she hurried inside not waiting for any reply.

P.s.- I know this is a crap story, but as it was my first attempt at story writing from years back, and it was lying just like that in my drive so thought of publishing it here. Thank you for reading.