Spiritual Summer
A novel by Nori J. Muster
Chapter Eight
The painting crew finished the decorations on the first morning of the two-day festival. While the artists cleaned their brushes and packed up their supplies, others continued to work. The temple room was congested with devotees on ladders and scaffolding, hanging the last decorations, and women sitting in circles stringing flower garlands; there were bits of decorations and flowers strewn everywhere. Sandy could see that the cleaning, painting, and repair work was going to be worth all the effort, though. Everything seemed to sparkle, and most of all they were meeting their schedule. Even the velvet wall hangings and curtains had been dry cleaned.
In the center of the room, near the altar, some of the priests were preparing an arena for the initiations. They cordoned off a square area, and placed grass mats on the floor for initiates to sit on. In the central part of the cordoned area the priests built a brick fire pit and filled it with sand. Sandy wondered what it was all about.
With the time for the ceremony approaching, devotees put the final touches on decorations and cleared away the boxes. A man came through with a push broom and swept up the leaves, string, and stray flowers. Sandy checked her watch and decided there would be time to go home to rest and have some fruit before the ceremony. She appreciated the devotees' desire to fast for their holy days, but didn't think she could make it for a day and a half without eating. When she returned to the temple at four o'clock there were already a few dozen devotees waiting for the initiations to start. Five men played sitars, tambouras, and other stringed instruments, and sang ritualistic songs. Most of the others chanted on their beads. Sandy sat down with the women at the back of the room.
Rows of folding chairs were set up for any relatives who might be attending the ceremony. She was looking around the room, admiring the way it looked, when she noticed Jeff seating a man and woman in the folding chairs. It must be his mother, Sandy realized. She felt a chill go through her body and an irresistible urge came over her. Without thinking she jumped up and rushed over to greet them.
"Hi, Jeff. Is this your family?"
Jeff smiled but seemed uneasy. "Yes, Sandy. This is my mother Martha Miller."
"And this is Vern Mitchell," Martha said.
Vern held out his hand to shake.
"It's very nice that you came for the initiation," Sandy said, shaking Vern's hand.
"She had to make sure they didn't make a human sacrifice of the boy," Vern said, chuckling.
"Now, Vern," Martha said. "Jeff invited me, so I came. That's all. It's not every day you lose a son."
"Now, Martha, don't start again. I thought we already had this worked out." Vern took Martha's arm and continued consoling her.
Sandy looked at Jeff, wishing to apologize.
"Sorry about my mom," Jeff said. "She gets like this over any kind of ceremony. She's terrible at weddings, too. I've got to go, okay?" He turned and, after saying goodbye to his mother and Vern, walked to the back of the room. He ducked behind the velvet curtains beside the altar, where Sandy assumed the other initiates were also waiting in the wings.
Sandy sat down next to Martha, who had now calmed down. She was a pleasant-looking lady, about forty-five. She wore red lipstick and had a puffy face and round figure. Wearing her Sunday best, Sandy thought, noting Martha's brown sequined dress and black short-rimmed hat. Vern wore a black three-piece suit, although he had removed his jacket and hung it on the back of his chair. He had gray hair and a tall, slim physique.
"I'm a friend of Jeff's but I don't live here," Sandy said.
"If you don't live here, where are you from?" Vern asked.
"I'm from San Francisco. I'm just visiting for the summer. I leave in a few days to start college."
"Oh, college. I wish Jeff had finished college while he had the chance," Martha said. "He was going to Santa Barbara."
"I know. He told me. I'll be going to the same school."
"You're a lucky girl," Vern said.
"How do you like this, Jeff getting initiated?" Sandy asked.
Martha looked down and then looked at Vern.
"We're tolerating," Vern volunteered.
"Tolerating," Martha confirmed.
She seems like a pretty reasonable woman, Sandy thought. Maybe if both she and I had a talk with Jeff he would reconsider getting initiated and leave the temple. Sandy prayed for a moment that Jeff would come back and see her sitting with his mother. Maybe he would come over and together they could talk some sense into him. It would be the last chance. But no, she realized, it was all a dream. Obviously, Jeff had been defying his mother since he left school and no amount of convincing was going to change his mind at the last minute. Actually, Sandy thought, it would be better if Jeff didn't see her sitting with his family. He might think she was ganging up against him and never trust her again.
"It's been a pleasure talking to you Martha," Sandy said. "And Vern, you too. But you'll have to excuse me. It looks like things are getting started."
"It was nice talking to you," Vern said.
"Bye," Martha said, smiling and raising her hand slightly to wave.
"Enjoy the ceremony," Sandy said, raising her hand, too. But then added, "If you can. Oops, I mean, I'll see you later."
She felt a tingle as she hurried away. That was Jeff's mother and mother's boyfriend, she kept thinking to herself, over and over. How great to meet Jeff's mother! She seemed like a sweet person. After Sandy went up to the balcony, devotees continued to fill the room. The musicians laid aside their stringed instruments and switched to the usual percussion instruments of the temple chanting. When they began chanting all the devotees joined in.
The initiates came into the temple room through the velvet curtains and took their seats on the mats. Each mat had a paper plate with a pile of grain and a banana. First the men came in and then the women. The men sat on one side of the fire pit, while the women sat on the other. A priest opened the altar doors to reveal the deities and began ringing a bell and offering flowers in worship. The clean, decorated temple was saturated with the smell of incense, the sound of chanting, and an air of expectation.
Nada Swami entered through the double wooden doors at the back of the building and paused to ring the temple bell. Everyone turned to look at him and the music stopped. People on the floor cleared a path and he walked to his throne, head held high. He had shaved his head in the Krishna Center fashion, leaving a thick strand of hair at the back. The musicians and chanters seemed to go wild, chanting with full intensity, "Nada Swami, Nada Swami," as the guru took his seat. Sandy had never seen him with a shaven head and maybe the others never had, either, she thought. Maybe that's why they were chanting so enthusiastically. Then again, she reasoned, maybe it was just because this was an initiation and Nada Swami was the main focus of attention for all his disciples.
Before the chanting died down, Nada Swami took the mike. "Hare Krishna," he began, and everyone returned his greeting. "Today is a very special day. Not just here in Los Angeles, but all over India, and for every follower of the Hindu tradition. Today is the appearance day of Lord Krishna, the supreme attractive personality of Godhead. You can see Him here on our altar," he said, pointing to the center set of deities, "with his consort. The Krishna deity is always seen playing a flute. That is because, as Supreme Lord, Krishna doesn't have to worry about the cares of the world or perform any cumbersome work. And why is that? That is because his devotees of this world are here to carry out his will.
"Today we will perform a ceremony to initiate seventeen new devotees into that sacred duty. So are the initiates ready?" He paused and looked over the people gathered inside the cordoned area. "Fine. Then let us begin." He turned from the microphone and motioned for an assistant, who handed him a sheet of paper. He glanced over the paper and then pulled the mike back. "Yes, we're ready.
"Jeff Miller," the guru said.
Jeff stood up, exited the arena, and knelt before Nada Swami. Jeff was wearing his saffron robes, but instead of a shirt he wore a saffron-colored cloth draped over his shoulder. Sandy noticed his golden skin and bare back. Too bad he has to do this, she thought.
"Jeff," Nada Swami began. "What are the four rules you promise to follow?"
Jeff didn't have a microphone, but he spoke loudly enough to be heard. "No illicit sex, no intoxication, no meat-eating, and no gambling."
"Good. And how many rounds do you promise to chant every day on your beads?" Nada Swami asked.
"Sixteen," Jeff said.
"Very good!" the guru said, smiling at Jeff and the rest of the assembly. He handed Jeff a string of chanting beads and Jeff bowed down at his feet. When he sat up the guru continued.
"Jeff, you have been our shuttle driver for a long time and you have worked conscientiously in that service. You may know that book distribution is very dear to my heart, and very dear to the heart of my spiritual master, Swamiji. Swamiji once said that the publishing and book distribution is his very heart. And you have been helping us in this great effort. The name I am giving you is a name that will help you remember that you are serving the great devotees with your work. Your spiritual name is 'Das Anu Dasa.' "
Devotees shouted their approval.
" 'Dasa,' " the guru continued, "means 'servant,' and 'Das Anu Dasa' means 'servant of the servant,' so you are a servant of the great devotees. Also, now that you are initiated, you must dedicate yourself to serving the devotees by following all the principles of spiritual life very carefully."
A tear slid down Sandy's face as she realized she would now have to release him. It must be even worse for his mother, she thought.
Nada Swami called up the next man and went through the same procedure, hearing the disciple's vows and giving him his spiritual name, with an explanation. Then another disciple took initiation, then another. When all the men were initiated, Nada Swami began initiating the women. The name giving took a long time. After each disciple learned his or her new name, the audience cheered.
After the name-giving ceremony, Nada Swami moved to a more modest dais in front of the fire pit. As the chanting continued he set up small twigs and kindling on the sand, placing larger pieces of wood around. Then he struck a match and lit the kindling. He added larger pieces of wood until a fire was going.
Sandy watched Nada Swami's movements and tried to judge whether his shaved head made him look like a guru. At least he looks more like an ICKW devotee now, she thought. Building a fire, wearing his shiny silk robes, he appeared to Sandy like a mad wizard. Because it was freshly shaven, the top of his head looked a few shades lighter, bluer than the rest of his complexion. Sandy stared at the man, angry that he was making it impossible for her and Jeff to be together.
A fire was crackling now and the guru added more wood. He lifted a ladle out of a pot of liquefied butter and poured it on the fire. The fire licked and blazed more brightly. He added more wood and then another dipper of butter. Soon the fire blazed. When he turned on the mike, the musicians stopped chanting. Everyone was silent, waiting for him to speak.
"Now we are going to recite some mantras," he said. He picked up a book and began reading aloud. With each Sanskrit word, he paused so those in the ceremony, and the rest of the room, could recite the word. The chanting and reciting built up into a strong, rhythmic drone. When he came to a particular mantra it was a signal for the initiates to begin offering their grain into the fire. With each round of mantras, the disciples threw a handful of grain. The fire crackled. When the mantras ended, Nada Swami instructed the initiates to stand up and place their bananas in the fire.
"This fruit-offering signifies the last of the initiates' karma," the guru explained for the benefit of anyone in the audience who did not know. "This initiation has purified and freed these young men and women from millions of years of good and bad reactions in this material world. It's a second birth, a spiritual birth."
On his command, the initiates approached the fire and placed their bananas in the flames. The fruit all but extinguished the fire, and it smoldered, filling the room with smoke. After a few minutes more chanting the assembly poured outside to the sidewalk, into the fading sunlight. Sandy observed that Jeff, now Das Anu Dasa, was surrounded by his friends. She turned and wandered down the street, which had been blocked off with city barricades for the event. Festival booths, the same ones that were used for the Venice Beach festival, lined both sides of the street. The local Indian community had been invited to the temple to celebrate the birth of Lord Krishna and hundreds of people were expected to arrive at seven o'clock. She walked around the booths, admiring the signs she had helped paint, and getting a better look at some of the displays. The booths were illuminated with neon lights, and the temple building was decorated with strings of tiny white lights, giving the whole block a carnival feeling. People circulated through the booths and gathered in front of the stage, awaiting the entertainment. Sandy felt hungry, but it wasn't as bad as it could be if she were fasting completely like the other devotees. She glanced down one of the apartment driveways and saw Jeff talking with some other men in front of his van. She froze for a moment then circled around the booth and looked again. The other men were leaving now and Jeff was alone, unloading empty cartons from his van. She decided to leave the festival and walk down another driveway that led to the parking lot where Jeff was working. She made her way back to the garages and waved at him from the shadows of the building.
"What are you doing here?!" he whispered.
"Come over here," she said. "I want to say goodbye."
"You come over here. Get into the van. Quick" He looked around to see if anyone was in the area.
She jumped through the open door and Jeff slid it closed behind her. Then he got in the driver's door and climbed from the front seat into the back.
"You're crazy to come here like this," he said. "Today's my initiation day. What if you get me in trouble?"
"But it's the last chance we'll have. I'm leaving in five days."
Jeff paused a moment, then said, "That's right. I forgot."
"I'm sorry I got your mom all upset. She calmed down after a while."
"Don't worry about her. It doesn't matter."
"She's your mother, though, I wanted to meet her."
"Look, let's not talk about my mother right now. What do you want? There's rumors going around about us, you know."
"Rumors?"
"Some of the guys asked me what you were doing with my mother. But don't worry, I smoothed it over."
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was so touchy."
"Well, it is, and you shouldn't be here."
"Don't be so mean," Sandy said. "I'm leaving and I just want to say goodbye, that's all. We may never see each other again."
"You have no intention of staying, then?"
"I have to go to school. You know that."
"You won't change your mind?"
"No, of course not."
"Then maybe we won't see each other, but it's your decision, not mine," he said.
Sandy started to protest, but realized he had already made his decision final. "We've both chosen different paths. Neither one of us can change now."
Jeff didn't answer, but sat silently, looking at her.
"Just think, five days and I'll be gone for good."
He still didn't answer.
"You'll be rid of me forever," she repeated.
He took her hand and held it for a few moments, still not speaking. "My offer is still open," he said. "If you change your mind and don't like school. . ."
"No, Jeff. That isn't going to happen. I'm not meant to be a devotee. I couldn't live like this forever." Her words trailed off and they both sat quietly for a moment.
"But if we were married we wouldn't have to sneak around," he said. "We could get an apartment and live like householders."
"No," she said. "That's not it. It's just that I'm not really a devotee. It wouldn't be what you think. There's no sense in waiting for me, either. We're different. I hoped it wasn't true up to the last minute. But now you are initiated and you should stay here and be a good disciple."
"I guess I thought somehow that you were going to be with me. I still think, somehow you're going to stay here. What could your parents say, anyway? They've gone along with everything so far and now that you're eighteen, you're old enough to make up your own mind."
"That's not the problem," Sandy said. "We're different. You're going to stay here, with your spiritual family. I'm going to go to Santa Barbara. I have to follow my own course; you have to follow yours. It's so simple. We shouldn't try to make it more complicated than it is."
"You're breaking up with me then? Is that it? You're sure there's no way we can work it out?"
"I guess," she said. She studied his features, his short brown hair and worried expression, his strong shoulders, now covered by a silk saffron shirt. His skin appeared smooth in the dim light although she could see a slight shadow around his cheeks and chin. She reached out to stroke his cheek with the back of her hand and wiped away a tear.
"Why did I even get involved in the first place?" he asked.
"I know. I asked myself the same question tonight."
They looked at each other and both said, "You can still change your mind."
"We can't," Sandy said, now brushing away her own tears.
"But Santa Barbara is so close," he said. "You can come and visit."
"And what? Say, 'Where's Das Anu Dasa? I want to sit and talk to him in his van.' I don't think that would go over very well if you're still wearing saffron."
"No, you're right," he said. "But I could come up and visit you. I could take a day off and drive up there."
"Don't say that," she said. "You'd be breaking your vows. Just stay here and do what they tell you. Please. I've already done enough damage to your spiritual life. It's over now, it's over."
"At least let me hold you again," he said. "To say goodbye." He pulled her toward him and put his arms around her.
"I don't know why you're doing this," she whispered. "Please leave with me, Jeff. Please come with me."
"Are you going to be at the installation ceremony tomorrow?" he asked. "The artists have made a murti of Swamiji and they'll be installing it on the vyasasana. It will be ecstatic, then there will be a big feast."
"I know," she said. She buried her face against his shoulder trying not to cry, but she could feel herself losing control. "I better go now."
"No wait," Jeff said. "Is this is the end? You can't just go."
She leaned over and kissed him. "Don't be sad. Doesn't your philosophy say everything is temporary?"
"I can't think about philosophy right now."
"Okay, but don't be sad, please. It just makes it hurt more. We should be glad that we met, that we had this time together."
Jeff let her go and said he would be back out to the festival in a while. She walked under the building, through the dark parking lot to the back entrance of Prana's apartment building. When she got inside, she threw herself down on her sleeping bag and cried. She fell asleep, missing the rest of the festival.
