Prayer Scam at Lake Pushkar

Pushkar is of special importance to Hindus. It is one of the oldest cities in India and contains one of the very few temples devoted to the creator-god, Brahma. According to legend, a powerful demon once terrorized his children. Upon witnessing this, Lord Brahma used a lotus flower to destroy the evil being. While doing so, the petals of the flower fell at three locations, forming three lakes. Pushkar Lake was the first and greatest among the three.  

Brahma - The Hindu God of Creation 

While walking through town one morning, I was approached by several different people on separate occasions; all of them asking if I would like to make a prayer and toss some flowers in the holy lake. During the few weeks that I’ve been in India, I’d guess that I’ve been asked to purchase a cheap service or souvenir several hundred times. It appears that everyone is trying to sell something.  The street vendors are incredibly persistant.  “No” means very little to them.

As I strolled down that dusty, dirt road, I unintentionally made eye contact with a man sitting on a plastic chair scouting for tourists. He jumped up so quickly he nearly knocked over his seat.  He came jogging towards me. Wonderful…

“Take these flowers and put them in the lake,” he said offering some colorful petals. “Very special for you.”

“No thanks.”

“Where are you from?” he asked.

“I’m going to eat breakfast,” I said looking forward, beginning to quicken my pace.

“O.K. You eat breakfast and then we go to the lake.”

“No.”

He followed me until we reached a coffee shop. As I opened the door I heard him say, “Oh, you are really eat breakfast.” When I had finished eating, I discovered that he had left.

At some point in the afternoon a lanky, young man came up to me and asked if I had thrown flowers in the lake yet. I told him that I was busy. He pointed in the direction of the lake. “Look over there. They go too.” I could see other foreigners being led down to the water. “I swear it don’t take much time,” he promised me. “We say nice prayer for God and your family. You throw pretty flowers in the water. After, I tie a string around your wrist. When others see it, they don’t bother you.”

My curiousity and his persistance were becoming more and more convincing. The thought of being left alone after this was over with was quite tempting.

“O.K. quickly,” I said.

The two of us made our way through the crowds of people and honking tuk-tuks. We soon arrived at a stone archway with a golden bell hanging underneath. The young man lept up into the air and struck the clapper as if he was spiking a tiny volleyball. A deafening clang echoed off the walls.

One of the many ghats that lead down to the lake.

He looked at me over his shoulder. “Come this way.” We walked to one of the many ghats. “Take your shoes off here,” he instructed. I hesitated. It’s common to remove your shoes before entering temples or other holy sights, but I had a feeling that if I took them off, there would be the possibility that I would never see them again. I convinced myself that if my sandals were stolen, I could always buy a cheap pair from one of the several shops that sold them nearby. I reluctantly took them off and placed them next to some other pairs.

“Follow me.”

We walked halfway down to the lake. “Please sit,” he said. He took out a small bottle of what I am assuming was paint, dipped his finger inside, and dotted my forehead.  Jeez, I don’t want that crap on me.

“O.K. I say prayer and you say after.”I nodded my head, but I was already ready to go. My gut was telling me that this wasn't a good situation.

Part of the prayer was in English. I’m assuming that the rest was in Hindi. The English portion was about loving God, respecting your parents, and being a good person. It was a positive message, but at that moment I was wondering why I agreed to do this. We were drawing a lot of attention from both Indians and other foreigners.  I was imagining what they were thinking as they stared at us. “Look at that poor sucker. Does he realize he’s being scammed?”

I had trouble repeating the Hindi prayer. I stumbled on every multi-syllable word.

 “Where are you from?” he asked switching back to English.

“Canada.”

“Oh, Canada. I know a man from Canada. His name is a Robert. Tall man. Works on a farm. Do you know Robert?”

“No.”

How many people are in your family?”.

“Five.”

“Very nice. Very nice family. Now, take these flowers and throw into the lake,” he said placing a handful of petals in my palm. “Please, leave your bag here. I watch it.”

“I’m not leaving my bag.” I said firmly. I was beginning to get frustrated.

“O.K. Fine.” He said with a hint of disappointment in his voice. He took back the petals, ran down to the lake to toss them in before darting back up to where I was sitting. He kept an eye on me the entire time to make sure that I didn’t walk away.

“Prayer is finished.” He took out a piece of red and yellow string. “Let me tie this around your wrist.”

I extended my arm in his direction. I badly wanted to get this over with. As he knotted the string he said, “O.K. Five people in your family. You can give one thousand rupees for each person in your family. Five thousand rupees total.” (Around $100 CAN)

I tried my best to keep my cool. “I don’t have five thousand rupees.”

“O.K. It’s no problem, you can give nine hundred rupees per person, eight hundred rupees per person. Whatever is in your heart. ”

Truthfully, there was a part of me that felt obligated to give him what he requested. We had spent a good ten minutes together performing this ceremony. I couldn’t just walk away. Too much time had passed. I “had” to give him five thousand rupees. I suppose that’s how the scam works; pretend like you are doing a service for the victim so that when it’s over they feel the need to hand over their money.  Thankfully I managed to stay strong.   

“I will give one hundred rupees.” (Around $2 CAN)

“One hundred rupees is too small,” he said smiling. “Only a beggar would give this much.”

“I need to get my shoes.”

“O.K. We get your shoes and then you give to charity.” I knew that charity would be the last place my money would go to.

We walked back up the stone steps. I had a sense of relief when I saw that my shoes were still there.

“O.K. You have your shoes. Now you give.”

I tried handing him a one hundred rupee note. “You can’t give this.” He sounded irritated. “Look at all these people and the money they gave to the lake.” He flipped through a booklet of receipts listing names of foreigners and the several thousand rupees they had given him. “You have to give more.”

“No, I don’t,” I said forcefully placing the hundred rupee note on top of his booklet. Later on I was disappointed that I gave him even that much.

He looked at me with contempt and shooed me away. As I walked from the lake I took out a wet tissue and wiped away the dot from my forehead. Then using my hotel room key I cut the string off my wrist and tossed it on the ground.

I was sad to hear that the same guy had conned two of my friends earlier that day for 2000 rupees each.  They both described how they felt compelled to give him money even though they really regretted doing so later on. I believe that regret is an important teacher. It lets me know what to not do in the future. If I feel that I learned something from a mistake I made, then the negative emotions I experienced were most likely worth it. I told them this and I think it made them feel a bit better.