Brahma and Laxmi Reincarnate in Brazil

By M.P. Prabhakaran

            I was on my way to the Sugar Loaf Mountain, the famous tourist attraction in Rio de Janeiro. As the tour bus passed by a row of shops, the signboard above one of them caught my attention. It had the word Laxmi written on it, in bold letters.

            Laxmi, according to Hindu mythology, is the goddess of wealth. A shop in a Brazilian city named for a Hindu goddess? “Could it be a store selling antiques from India?” “Is it an outlet of some import-export business dealing in Indian goods?” “Is it the office of a company owned by an Indian?” Those were the first questions that arose in my mind.

            I also entertained other possibilities, like: “Is it a makeshift temple where local Hindus worshiped?” That seemed remote. During the few days I had been in Rio, the only thing associated with Hinduism that I saw was a yoga class being conducted on the sands of Copacabana. And the only Indian I met was not a Hindu, but a Catholic from Goa living in New York. He had come to Rio to fight a court battle to gain custody of his five-year-old daughter from his Brazilian ex-wife. He had met and married her in New York. She left New York for her native Rio, with their only child, when he was away in India on business. According to him, she was abusive and alcoholic. He didn’t want his daughter to be raised by her. “He was not the type who would go to a Laxmi temple, even in distress,” I said to myself.

            Could it be a store doubling as a temple now and then? I had heard in New York about a garage doubling as a church on Sundays. Some newly-arrived Indian immigrants belonging to some out-of-the-mainstream Christian denomination decided that they would feel comfortable only if they congregated separately and communicated with God in their native language. Until they raised enough money to build their own church, they decided to conduct mass in a garage. They knew God wouldn’t have any problem with that. After all, Jesus was born in a manger. 

            My debate over the word Laxmi on the signboard came to an end when our tour bus stopped in front of a cable car. The cable car would take us to the top of the Sugar Loaf, the tour guide told us.

            To satisfy my curiosity about Laxmi, I returned to the place of the signboard the next day. To my utter disappointment I learned that the place had nothing to do with goddess Laxmi. Nor did it have anything to do with Hinduism, India or Indians. The place was a barbershop. The next logical question was: How did a barbershop in Brazil get a Hindu goddess’s name? I went in to find out.

            There were three employees there, and not a single customer. They were sitting on swivel chairs meant for customers. Two were talking to each other and the third one was half asleep. As I walked in, their faces lit up. Maybe they thought they got the first customer of the day. There was no reason why they should think otherwise. How often does a person walk into a barbershop to satisfy his intellectual curiosity?

            In appearance, like many Brazilians I met, the three barbers could pass for Indians. So I asked them whether they were from India.

            They spoke a little English, enough to understand my question. They were not from India, they said. Then I put to them the question that really puzzled me: How did their shop get the name Laxmi? They didn’t know. Only their boss would know, they said. And the boss was not in town. He was away in Sao Paulo visiting his family.

            I came out disappointed, but only after praying to Laxmi, the goddess of wealth, to shower her blessings on the place. It needed them badly.

The Seeker of Universal Truth

            That was the second time in Rio de Janeiro that I had an experience like this: the display of a divine Hindu name uplifting my spirits first and putting a damper on them later. A couple of days earlier, I was walking on Rua Baratas Ribeiro when I saw the word Brahma staring at me from a faraway billboard.

            Brahma, along with the other two of the sacred triad, enjoys an exalted position among the Hindu pantheon. The other two are Vishnu and Shiva. To the believers among Hindus, Brahma is the creator, Vishnu the preserver and Shiva the destroyer. “What is Brahma doing in Brazil?” was the immediate question that I had. To get an answer, I walked fast toward the billboard.

            As I came closer, it became clear that this Brahma had nothing to do with the one the Hindus worship. The billboard was a beer advertisement. Brahma, I learned later, is the most popular beer in Brazil. Once again, the Hindu in me felt taken in. But I didn’t allow that to bother me for too long. It was a very hot and humid evening and I was feeling very thirsty. I walked into a nearby restaurant and asked the waitress what the most popular Brazilian beer was.

            “Brahma,” she said without a moment’s wait.

            “Fill it to the rim,” I said with gusto, borrowing the words from a popular coffee advertisement of the 1970’s.

            The way I said it attracted the attention of a couple sitting at the next table. “You seem to be so excited,” the man said. “Do you want to tell us what it is about?”

            “With pleasure,” I told them. “You see, Mahatma Gandhi once said that in front of a hungry man God should appear in the form of bread. In front of this thirsty Hindu, God has appeared in the form of beer. I am blessed.”

            Pointing to the word Brahma on the bottle, I gave them a brief talk on Hinduism. I was to realize later that the talk was unnecessary in the case of this couple. They had just finished their master’s degree in philosophy from London University. They fell in love while studying there. Hinduism was very much part of their curriculum, they told me. “But Brahma coming to earth in the form of beer! That adds a whole new chapter to Hindu mythology,” the man said.

            “Congratulations for your invaluable contribution,” his girlfriend added.

            “Three cheers for Brahma!” I said, raising my glass. They laughed.

            While taking leave of them I said: “The beauty of being a Hindu is that you are at liberty to laugh at, and with, all the gods and goddesses in your religion. You can even reject them all and still be a Hindu. The Universal Truth you are seeking has no gender or form.”