Catherine Auman, MFT

Laurel decided to take the back way home. Behind the ashram many Indians lived, first the compounds of rich families guarded by old frail Indian men sitting on folding chairs 24/7. Then came a depression of land gorged with tiny huts where the less fortunate resided. Adjacent to the settlement, she passed an enclosed shrine to Ganesh, the elephant god who brought material wealth. The miniature tin building held a garishly painted statue behind a locked screen. Devotees had spent many a rupee on strings of marigolds and burfi sweets left as offerings on the steps.

As she neared the corner to turn to her flat, an Indian man in his mid twenties stopped her. He wore a stiffly starched Western style shirt, immaculately white, and black trousers. His little mustache quivered. He came up to Laurel’s chin.

“Please, sir,” he said, addressing Laurel. Laurel wanted to scream at him that she was not a ‘sir’ but she bit her tongue. Was the only honorific in Hindi masculine?

“My wife and I,” he continued. His voice was insistent and firm, determined to get what he was after. “We are married new. Please, sir, honor us, bless our marriage.”

Behind him was a shy Indian woman, dressed in punjabi and beaded sandals, her glossy black hair gathered into a thick braid. Her eyes were downcast and she clung to her husband’s arm. Laurel wanted to laugh. Her bless a marriage? Ludicrous. What was with these people?

Then she realized that to them she was a sannyasin, a person on a spiritual quest, which in India denoted a holy person. She laughed to think of herself as holy, yeah, celibate and all. But then again, she argued with herself, she was dedicating her life to spiritual search. In the West, this may have made her an uncool person, but here it was honored as a respected life path. Maybe her spirituality was not that of a celibate monk dedicated to hours of pranayama or late nights studying the dharma. She was equally as determined as he was to see it to the end. Maybe she ought to regard her own life choices with a little more respect.

How did one bless a marriage? “All blessings for your marriage,” Laurel said. “May you live long and happily together.” She waved her arms around like she imagined a priest would. Would that do?

The man smiled at his wife who nodded. The newly married couple walked on into their life together, and Laurel walked on into her life alone.