"How terrible, preying on the helpless! And if we didn't pay, could he refuse to marry us?"
"I'm afraid so, at least for a time. The laws are so vague, officials are entitled to their so-called scruples." Mukunda laid a comforting arm on my shoulder. "We could take a lawyer and force the issue, but it's simpler, cheaper, and much faster to pay the weasel his fifty bucks."
"Good grief! It’s a fortune over here. No wonder he can afford a gold watch."
*****
In a relaxed mood, we had a late lunch at the American Grill in the hotel lobby, then wandered among the hotel shops, buying perfume and clothes as well as various supplies for the upcoming Himalayan trip. Back from our shopping expedition after sunset, we lingered on the balcony, admiring the lights sparkling along the curve of BlackBay, forming the landmark known as Queen Victoria's Necklace.
Mukunda popped the cork of the chilled champagne bottle. "Since we are not officially married yet, I'm afraid we'll have to spend one more night in sin." He filled both glasses then handed me one. "I propose a toast."
I took the offered drink and raised it, smiling. "A toast to what?"
"To the prospect of breaking tonight the four remaining bangles left on your wrists." He winked and had a sip.
"What will we do when there are none left? Will we have to stop?"
"Don't worry." Mukunda smiled mischievously. "I ordered a gross from the hotel gift shop."
I laughed, almost spraying the champagne through my nose.
*****
The next morning we returned to the registrar's office. A new dozen glass bangles tinkled on my wrists, matching the red silk dress we bought on our shopping spree. The gray weasel did not make us wait this time but smiled broadly when Mukunda gave him the envelope with the money.
"We hope this will ease your scruples," Mukunda said with only a trace of irony, then sat on the offered chair.
Ignoring the subtle insult, the registrar took the envelope, saying, "I was talking in your favor to my superior at the main office, telling him about you being such a nice couple. Moved by my eloquence, he was finally giving permission to solemnize your marriage. If you are being ready, we can be proceeding now with the ceremony."
Standing in front of the desk, we exchanged simple vows, looking in each other's eyes, in front of two office clerks serving as witnesses, whom Mukunda paid ten dollars each. By then we felt we were getting the hang of Indian bribes. This new game seemed fair enough when you knew the rules.
*****
After a five-day trek through the Valley of the Gods, we reached the high point of our Himalayan trail. As usual, the Sherpas, barefoot in the cold, had arrived ahead of us. Never mind that they carried two hundred pounds of equipment including a wood stove through passes too dangerous for us to negotiate. The tents had been pitched on a rocky incline, and the camp buzzed with the strange language of stocky brown figures busying themselves around the cooking fire. Although exhausted from the climb, I smiled at the smell of warm vegetable soup.
From the lookout, our mountain guide pointed out the Chinese border, Tibet, and Nepal. All the eye could see was the Himalaya Mountains, the farther summits covered with eternal snow. We scattered to different spots to admire the scenery privately, in peaceful awe, dwarfed by the massive beauty of the lofty peaks.
As I sat to meditate, I felt a presence I hadn't experienced in a long time. My heart fluttered. From the corner of my eye I saw Jean-François, walking toward me, smiling.
"Bonjour, Fabienne. You picked a beautiful spot to meditate today, my favorite in the whole world. We'll have to come back together some day."
"Little brother, I missed you..." I wanted to touch him.
"I'm happy for you, Fabienne." Jean-François looked radiant but ethereal. "You chose well. I like Mukunda. He suits our destiny."
"Yes. He's a wonderful man." I could see the mountains through my brother's image.
Jean-François smiled. "I'll see you in a few months, and this time we'll stay together for a long time, the three of us."
"What do you mean? I don't understand..."
"You will..."
*****
"What happened?" The panic in Mukunda's voice called me back from another plane. Someone tapped my cheeks and poured water from a skin gourd into my throat. I coughed.
"She's coming to." I could hear the guide's voice, but his face remained a blur. "Must be the lack of oxygen. She's tired and needs some rest. She'll be fine in the morning."
Leaning heavily on their comforting shoulders, I let Mukunda and the guide take me to the tent. Once safely inside, I fell into blissful oblivion.
The guide was right. Despite another night in a sleeping bag on the cold, hard ground, the misty morning saw me up and about, and we enjoyed the trek down without incident. Finally, after two weeks of exacting but idyllic vacation, we headed back to Ganeshpur. During the return flight to Mumbai, I started to wonder what my new life would be like. Spending days at the ashram and nights in my new home didn't seem satisfying, mainly since I had finished translating Baba's book.
"You could teach at the village school," Mukunda offered enthusiastically, stirring tea in a plastic cup. "The kids need to learn English, and the parents to read and write. It won't pay anything, but you might enjoy it."
In all these months in India, I had never truly communicated with the local population except with Amit and his family. Leaning back in the seat, I looked at the clouds floating by the window. Teaching these people would be exhilarating. "I can see myself teaching kids," I thought aloud, with a new sense of self worth.
Mukunda smiled.
By the time we finally reached Ganeshpur, after a long taxi ride, I was in high spirits. I also realized then that my monthly flow hadn't appeared yet, but I attributed the fact to the rarefied mountain air and the excitement of the honeymoon.
For the next few days, I repainted, rearranged and redecorated Mukunda's house to fit our married life. We obtained the landowner's permission to add a kitchen and another room. Mukunda drew the blueprint according to the house of his old dreams, and I loved it at once. In the fall, as soon as we obtained the license, remodeling would begin.
One morning, as Mukunda had already gone to work, I threw away my breakfast for the third day in a row, unable to stand even the smell of Chai. Would it be a boy or a girl? I wondered. Hopefully the morning sickness wouldn’t last.
Later that day, the mailman interrupted my house painting. I took the orange piece of paper delicately in stained hands, reading and rereading the invitation. The note, signed by Swamiji, stated that the newly ordained swamis, after retreat and initiation, would be officially presented at the ashram, next week on the full moon. Although not related to any new monk, Mukunda and I were invited to the private ceremony.
Back home that evening, Mukunda welcomed the news. "We ought to pay a visit to Baba anyway. This is a perfect opportunity." He dropped on the sofa, a glass of mango juice in hand.
"I agree." I took off the scarf protecting my hair from splashing paint. "I feel guilty about not going to the ashram sooner, but since I don't live there anymore, I have no reason to go. I would feel like an outsider." I sat next to him, admiring the freshly painted ivory walls.
"I understand." Mukunda smiled and picked a wood shaving off my T-shirt. "You did a remarkable job here..." He kissed me lightly on the lips.
"Thanks." My thoughts returned to the invitation. "But this is an odd occasion to be invited. From what I heard, only close family members usually attend to make peace and bless their new swami." Something didn't quite fit, but I couldn't pinpoint what.
"Well, we'll find out." Mukunda offered me his glass. "Thirsty?"
"Yes, thanks." I drank a sip of sweet juice, enjoying its refreshing taste on my parched throat, then handed back the glass.
"I talked to the village schoolmaster." Mukunda smiled. "She would be thrilled to have your help, as little or as much as you can give."
I tingled w
ith excitement. "When do I start?"
Mukunda laughed at my eagerness. "Whenever you like. Are you sure you are feeling up to it, in your condition?"
"Definitely. I'm fine during the day, really, it's only in the morning."
"I'm glad." Mukunda looked at me with infinite tenderness, then smiled. "We'll have to hurry building the extra rooms. We'll need them sooner than I thought." Setting the glass on the coffee table, he looked into my eyes. "Do you feel up to another sinful night with your lawful husband?"
"Absolutely," I said, as he covered my lips with a kiss.
*****
The noon breeze swayed the palm trees against a deep blue sky, and birds sang in the tall banyan, when Mukunda and I walked through the ashram gate. The familiar aroma of spices wafted from the kitchen. It felt strange to visit a place that used to be my home.
Luckily, the delicious lunch from the refectory remained in my stomach. Later on, we sat in the silent courtyard, Mukunda on the men's side and me with the women, waiting for the new swamis to make their appearance. They all looked alike in their bright vermilion robes, young, eager, with a red bindi on the forehead, and a freshly shaven skull shining white in the dappled sun. None of them looked familiar, except one, but I couldn't remember where I had seen him before. When the boy looked at me, his face lit in a warm smile. As I returned the smile, I suddenly recognized him, or rather her. It was Kora.
I saw Mukunda gasp as he recognized her as well.
Baba came out of his apartment and sat on his pillow. Throughout his introduction I couldn't help staring at Kora. She had changed so much. She looked and behaved like any other swami, plain, restrained, withdrawn. I could even see a green aura of honesty and compassion around her sitting silhouette, and she seemed to drink in Baba's every word. Such fervor... Could she have finally put aside the hatred to concentrate on her own evolution?
After the speech, Baba called Mukunda and me. "Are you enjoying married life?"
"Very much, Baba," Mukunda answered eagerly.
The holy man laughed. "You deserve your happiness, but it will be your duty to maintain it. Do not let the love fade. Carry it strongly, extend it to your child, your friends, all those who touch your blessed life."
Our child? I wondered how Baba could possibly know. Mukunda gave me a questioning stare. "I didn't say anything," I silently mouthed to him.
Baba's eyes twinkled with delight as he motioned Kora to approach us. "We never know what God has in store for us." The Siddha stared at the three of us in turn. "Some are destined for family and others for ashram life, and although we have preferences, we rarely make the right choice at first."
I could see tears in the new swami's green eyes. This new being wasn't Kora anymore. She looked transformed.
Baba smiled upon us, then, looking satisfied, rose and left with a wave of the hand.
"Do you have a new name?" Mukunda frowned at the swami standing in front of us, as if still unsure.
"Manda, which means pivotal, and Ananda, bliss. The bliss of having turned, in my case, from a destructive path." She looked up with green eyes clear as spring pools. "Can you ever forgive me for the hurt I caused you?"
Mukunda gave an embarrassed smiled. "Of course, I forgive you. I'm glad you changed your ways."
"And you, Fabienne?"
"It's already forgiven. But there are those who are not here anymore to forgive." Chad's funeral pyre still burned hot in my mind.
"I know..." The soft voice trailed, heavy with regrets. "When I decided to change my life, I first considered returning to Australia and facing the authorities."
Mukunda looked at her but didn't say anything. I wondered how much he knew.
"I couldn't bear leaving Shankar behind," Mandananda went on. "He needs me as much as I need him in order to better ourselves. So, I condemned myself to life in a spiritual jail. A swami's life is a lot rougher than that of a jailbird in any civilized country. In time, I may even learn to like it."
I knew how hard it would be for Kora to adapt, and my heart went out to her. If she were brave enough to renounce all the things she loved so much, I wanted to help. My hand went automatically to the gold necklace at my throat. Charged with Baba's spiritual energy, the same necklace Kora had regretfully given away on her welcome Darshan many months ago had almost never left my skin. Now was the time to pass it on.
The young swami, neither boy nor girl anymore and responding to the name of Mandananda, stared as I reached under my shirt collar for the gold clasp. It was warm to the touch and made my fingers tingle with energy at its contact. As I fumbled with it, Mukunda's fingers unfasten it for me. With trembling hands, I held the necklace in the sun where it shone for a second before I fastened it around Mandananda's slender neck.
"You'll need it more than me now. It will give you strength." I smiled. "Use its energy for your spiritual evolution, and when you don't need it anymore, pass it on to someone worthy," I said, repeating Baba's very words when he gave it to me.
A tear rolled down a perfect cheekbone as the new swami smiled and bowed respectfully. "Thank you, Fabienne, for giving me a chance, for never giving up on me. I will use it wisely and be eternally grateful. I shall owe you my happiness, when Shankar and I are finally reunited in a future life."
"Well, you are doing the hard work. I just opened your eyes. You were smart enough to see for yourself. I wish you luck and success in your spiritual quest."
"Thank you." The young swami bowed then left the courtyard to return to her contemplative life.
As ashram routine reclaimed its rights, Mukunda and I left quietly. Outside by the gate, I looked at Mukunda with a contented smile. I felt good. There was hope for the world yet, and my life made perfect sense.
"You look radiant." Mukunda returned the smile.
"I just had a revelation." I hopped into the Jeep.
"Really? About what?" Mukunda sat at the wheel.
I laid one hand on my abdomen. "Can we call our son François, in memory of my brother?"
"Of course, but what if it's a girl?" He slipped the key in the ignition then looked at me.
"Oh, don't worry..." I smiled, finally understanding Baba's comment and Jean‑François' enigmatic words in the Valley of the Gods. "It's a boy," I said, overjoyed at the certainty spreading through my whole being. "His new name is François, and he'll look just like his departed uncle."
"If you say so." Laughing, Mukunda started the Mahindra Jeep, taking us toward our common destiny.
Glossary
Acha! All right - good - understood
Are Bapre! Indian equivalent of: “Oh My God!”
Arati The offering of light to a deity
Asana Meditation mat
Ashram Hindu monastery
Ashramite Ashram resident
Babu High government official - powerful man
Bhramacharya Ethical restraint of sexual purity - Monastic women dedicated to this practice
Brahma One of the three main Hindu divinities with Shiva and Vishnu
Bidi Cheap Indian cigarette, made of rolled tobacco leaf and held together with thread
Brahmin Member of the highest, priestly caste
Chai Tea boiled in milk, water, sugar, and spices
Chakra Any of the centers of energy and consciousness located along the spine (There are seven main Chakras)
Chapatti Indian flat bread used to scoop the food when eating with fingers
Choli Silk or cotton bra-like top worn with a sari
Chutney Sweet-spicy fruit jam used as a condiment
Daff Indian tambourine
Dal Lentil stew
Darshan Encounter with the divine
Devotee Disciple
Dharma Divine law of righteousness - Destiny - Sacred duty
Dhoti Loincloth
Dobi-wallah Laundry worker
Ganesha Great god with an elephant head, created by Shiva to assist the souls in their evolution - Remover of obstacles
Ganeshpur T
own of Ganesha
Ghat Steps leading to a river
Ghee Clarified butter
Gulab jaman Deep-fried dry milk balls
Guru Spiritual guide
Guru Gita Morning chant
Howdah Seat carried by an elephant
Kanun Stringed music instrument
Karma Principle of cause and effect - Sum of someone’s actions over several lifetimes - Unavoidable consequences of previous actions - Destiny
Krishna Hindu deity embodying divine love
Kulfi Indian ice-cream
Kumbh Mela Holiest of Hindu pilgrimages to the places where during a mythologic battle the gods wrestled a pitcher (kumbh) of immortality from demons. Drops of the nectar spilled on the earth at Allahabad, Haridwar, Nasik and Ujjain. The pilgrimage is held every three years and rotates among the four cities.
Kundalini Spiritual energy which rises from the base of the spine to the crown of the head through the Chakras, due to spiritual practice or instant awakening from an outside source
Lungi Men garment wrapped around the hips to form an ankle-length skirt
Mala Flower garland
Mahout Elephant trainer and keeper
Mantra Sacred word or cosmic sound invested with the power of God - God in the form of sound - Repetition of a mantra purifies and elevates awareness
Maya Divine illusion - Divine light - life itself which is God’s greatest illusion
Ashes for the Elephant God Page 25