Hospitality

How Guests Are Treated

As God in the Hindu Home

 Raising children as good Hindus, cues and

clues for travelers, rites of passage, the duties

of homemaking, and honoring Hindu heros.

By Lavina Melwani, New York

B e one to whom the

mother is a God. Be one

to whom the father is

a God. Be one to whom the

teacher is a God. Be one to

whom the guest is a God.” So

advises the Taittiriya Upanishad

of the Yajur Veda, affirming the

remarkable Hindu reverence for

a guest. The Sanskrit word for

guest is athithi, “without time,”

i.e., “one who has no fixed day

for coming.” It remains today the

accepted custom of Hindus to

visit friends, relatives and even

strangers without notice. Hosting

guests is one of the five central

religious duties or “sacrifices” of

the Hindu householder: paying

homage to seers, to Gods and

elementals, to ancestors, to living

beings and, manushya yajna,

“homage to men,” which includes

gracious hosting of guests. The

ancient Tamil scripture, Tirukural,

says, “The whole purpose of

earning wealth and maintaining

a home is to provide hospitality

to guests.” In this article we explore

the many facets of Hindu

hospitality, from how to receive

a guest to how to behave in the

home, to the impact of modernization,

urbanization and the advent

of the nuclear family upon

this most ancient and revered

obligation of our faith.

Do you think you are the perfect Hindu host? Well, here’s

a story that will make you reevaluate your hospitality

skills, for the host in this tale is none other than Lord

Krishna. When his boyhood friend, Sudama—hungry,

impoverished and in rags—arrived at the palace, the guards refused

to allow him in. But Lord Krishna, overjoyed to see his old

friend, received him with open arms and joyfully led him to his

throne. He personally washed Sudama’s feet and fed him with

his own hands. Sudama had brought a humble gift, a handful of

parched rice tied in the corner of his shawl and was too ashamed

to give it to Lord Krishna in front of all the fine courtiers, but

Lord Krishna opened it with delight and ate the grains with pleasure

and appreciation. To him, the true value of this meager gift

lay in the affection with which it had been offered. Similar stories

abound in our scriptures and histories.

Although I did not grow up in a particularly religious household,

the concept of hospitality was still very traditionally Hindu,

both in giving and receiving. I remember we stopped at a

friend’s home in Mathura after a pilgrimage to Haridwar. The

hosts received us like VIP s, with open hearts and minds. We

ate a wonderful vegetarian meal in the cool evening air in their

garden, and then, as the stars came out, the string beds were

brought out into the open, for family and guests, each covered

with a mosquito net to ward off insects.

Another time, I was with my older brother, who had to stop at

an acquaintance’s home in Old Delhi to pick up some paperwork.

The family knew we were coming and had prepared a feast. In

this very Hindu home, we removed our shoes, washed our hands

and feet and sat on the immaculate kitchen floor with the hosts

while a brahmin cook served us one of the most memorable

meals I have ever eaten.

Indeed, you can never leave an Indian household without

gaining a few ounces, for you will certainly be plied with some

snacks, some tea at the very least, or a glass of cold rose sherbet

in the heat of summer. In our home in New Delhi, family

and friends came to us from everywhere, and they certainly got

more than a glass of water: delicious meals, a comfortable bed,

domestics hanging over their every need and, yes, even a guided

tour of Delhi, and, sometimes, even Agra. Nor was the hospitality

reserved just for visiting guests. Daily food was never eaten

without my mother’s consecrating a small portion to God, and a

portion being given to a passing needy person or a cow.

Relatives came and were joyously received, especially on days

of shraddha when the priest, uncles, aunts and cousins would

descend on the house to honor the memory of ancestors. The

house would take on an almost festive air, as scores of children

erupted out of the arriving cars. After prayers and feeding the

priest, the aroma of sizzling puris and pakodas wafted from the

kitchen while elders embarked on a massive talkathon.

Sundari Katir of California told Hinduism Today, “When I

was growing up in Sri Lanka, guests would always be visiting us

from different parts of the country and India. The whole household

would jump into action. My mother would assemble the

meal, and we children would get our rooms all ready, because

we would give them up and sleep on mats on the floor. It was

such a natural thing to do, and we were always delighted to have

guests. Today my brother Ranjan is one of the few relatives left

in Colombo, and he carries on the tradition. He treats everyone

as God, with good food, comfortable beds and heartfelt hospitality.

I have become a better hostess after observing him.”

God as Guest: The most common Hindu form of worship, puja,

is, in fact, an act of hosting. Rare is the Hindu home without a

shrine for the Deities. From huge family temples

of marble in

the homes of the wealthy to modest shrines, Hindus revere their

Gods. Daily, images of the family Gods are bathed, clothed and

offered fruit, flowers and incense, accompanied by chanting and

the tinkle of the bell, all in the format of hosting a guest. The

full 16-step puja begins with an invitation for God to come to the

home, continues through offering of a seat, washing the feet with

water, offerings of drink and food, garments and incense, flowers,

etc., until finally the God is thanked and bid adieu. While the

standard human guest would receive less adulation, a holy man

visiting a family’s home may well be welcomed and worshiped

in this complete manner.

Festivals bring a more intense program to host God. At Dipavali,

the Festival of Lights, when Goddess Lakshmi visits the homes

of devotees, there is a frenzy of cleaning, sweeping and painting

as homes are beautified and decorated with hundreds of earthen

lamps to greet Her.

Guest as God: At the very heart of Hinduism is the belief that

the Almighty permeates everything. Indeed, the Hindu belief in

the presence of the Paramatma in every living thing transforms

each one of us into God. The ancient Hindu texts say the guest

has to be shown honor by the host’s going out to meet him, offering

him water to wash his feet, by giving him a seat, lighting a

lamp before him, providing food and lodging and accompanying

him some distance when he departs. Thousands of years have

passed, but this code of etiquette remains little changed from the

ancient scriptures.

In the Manu Dharma Shastras, for example, the host is directed

thus: “All the food shall be very hot, and the guests shall eat in

silence. Having addressed them with the question: ‘Have you

dined well?’ let him give them water to sip, and bid farewell to

them with the words: ‘Now rest.’” K.T. Achaya in Indian Food: A

Historical Companion points out that guests had an honored rank

in Vedic society and, after being ceremoniously received, were

curd, milk, honey and sugar.

According to the Dharma Shastras, hosting guests is one of the

five obligatory sacrifices or duties of the householder. Anusasana

states, “The host should give his eye, mind and agreeable speech

to the guest, he should personally attend on him and should accompany

him when he (the guest) departs; this sacrifice (yajna)

demands these five fees.”

The visit of a holy person is given extra special attention, and

for good reason. Vriddha Harita Dharma Shastra says that if a

bramachari ascetic stays as a guest in a householder’s home for

a single night, the latter’s accumulated sins are destroyed, and

when such an ascetic takes food at a man’s house, it is Vishnu

Himself who is fed.

Common Sense: It should be clearly stated that Hindu hospitality

does not extend to being careless with the safety of one’s family

and home. Even Krishna’s guards kept Sudama—a brahmin at

that—outside the gates. When Hinduism Today’s founder, Satguru

Sivaya Subramuniyaswami (Gurudeva), was in Sri Lanka

as a young man, he experienced wonderful hospitality across the

island from all the communities. Part of the time he stayed in the

traditional Tamil village of Alaveddy at the home of Kandiah

Chettiar, one of his teachers, receiving instructions on, among

other things, the hosting of guests. One day, Chettiar had given

food to a suspicious-looking man at the gate, rather than inviting

him to the porch of the house. When the young Gurudeva asked

why he didn’t invite the man in, Chettiar replied, with characteristic

frankness, “Because he would steal everything in the

house.” The Dharma Shastras discuss at some length the issue of

unworthy or even dangerous guests, yet advising that, no matter

what the circumstances, the visitor should at least receive food.

Village Traditions: Sheela Venkatakrishnan of Chennai, Tamil

Nadu, told Hinduism

Today, “You offer your guest the same

love and respect that you would offer to God. Simple! A striking

example of hospitality is when the whole town of Kumbakonam,

where my father hails from, turns host during the week of the

Mahamaham.” Thousands upon thousands of people come for

the holy bath in the tank of the Kumbareswaran

temple, and

every home opens its doors to accommodate and feed all who

reach its doorstep. No one is turned away.

Sheela explained, “Houses in the villages and towns of Tamil

Nadu usually have a fairly large platform just outside their front

door, called a thinnai. This serves two purposes. One is temporary

storage of grain during the harvest and also an airy place to

sleep during the hot and humid summers. I t is not unusual for a

traveller to use this as a resting place. You could open your front

door in the morning and find someone sleeping on your thinnai.

This is where you would find the strangers during Mahamaham.

Of course, family and friends would be accommodated inside

the house. But everyone is fed, irrespective of caste. It is possible

that in the morning there is one set of people, in the afternoon

another and a totally different group at night. The meals served

would be according to whatever time of day it is. Also, the bath

area often has a separate access from outside the house.”

In her grandfather’s day, Sheela noted, it was the practice for

the head of the household to stand at his doorstep at mealtime

and ask loudly, not once but thrice, “Is there someone who needs

to be fed?” Sometimes a traveler or a poor man would come in for

food. It was only after the guest had been fed that family would

eat—one of the explicit instructions in the Dharma Shastras. The

Apastamba says, “He who eats before his guest eats destroys food,

prosperity, progeny, cattle and the merit of his own house.”

Hospitality permeates Indian culture, both on a personal and

institutional level. In Tamil Nadu, many of the bigger and older

temples have the annadanam scheme—a daily free feeding. Recently,

with the active patronage of the government, many more

temples have revived this practice, where they feed a minimum

of 100 people each day at noon. Muslim darghas

have adopted

this practice, while the Sikh gurudwaras have always followed it.

Mention also has to be made of the Hyderabadi brand of hospitality

that has few parallels. Made famous by the Muslim nawabs

of Lucknow, those on the receiving end enjoyed courtesy, food,

drink and congeniality—all served with an elegant world-class

flourish. Every ethnic and religious subculture of India puts a

premium on hospitality.

Little wonder, then, that in multicultural India these varied

streams of hospitality have coalesced to produce a generous and

warm people. Visitors to India come away with awed stories of

the way they were embraced and included in every family celebration—

in fact, made part of a larger, extended family. Often

these relationships last over the years.

You cannot go to even the humblest home without being honored

with food and Indian drink, as Janet Chawla found out some

years back. Chawla, an American who married a Sikh and now

lives in New Delhi, believes the charm of India is in the graciousness

of its people, although it is getting less so in the big cities. She

feels there is a grace, a way of sitting together, singing together at

weddings. People in small villages, she says, really are very giving,

sharing the little they have.

“In America, if we were sitting and working together, and I had

a sandwich—I would open it and eat it alone. An Indian would

never do that,” she says. “There is this kind of culturally prescribed

sharing which I find very gracious.” Janet didn’t mention

it, but some Westerners visiting India can find the level of hospitality

discomfiting, especially the tradition of never leaving a

guest alone. That impinges upon the Westerner’s desire for privacy

and “personal space”—concepts absent from the Indian milieu.

Hospitality at Home: Hindu tradition lays great stress on the

respect due to guests. The greatest hurt for a guest is the thought

that the host or hostess does not enjoy one’s presence. Therefore,

Hindus go out of their way to make each guest feel welcome.

It is proper protocol to drop whatever one is doing, no matter

friendship in the East is being able to drop by any time without

advance notice.

Mitesh Patel, whose family hails from Kathiawad region of

Gujarat, says that in his hometown hospitality is extended to everyone:

“When a guest comes to our house, we rarely let them

go without offering a good meal. We don’t feel that guests are a

burden, whether they are staying for few hours or few days, and

offer them full assistance.”

He gives the example of his uncle who left the ancestral village

30 years ago to settle in the city of Rajkot. Three decades later, if

anyone from the village comes for a medical checkup to the big

hospital in the city, his uncle makes sure healthy, home-made

meals go out to the patient every single day.

The level of hospitality depends upon several factors, the most

obvious being family ties. Traditionally, any known or unknown

member of one’s extended family—and the Hindu extended family

includes not only blood relatives to several degrees removed,

but also all the in-laws by marriage—is basically treated just like

a member of the immediate family. It would not be uncommon,

for example, for a student at the university to stay with distant

relatives throughout his entire schooling.

Then there are friends, business acquaintances, people from the

same village or state and so on, all of whom have some connection

to the host. They, too, may be treated just like a member of

the extended family, as Janet Chawla experienced, though commonly

a bit more formally. We can see from Sheela’s description

of her childhood village that the homes were designed to accommodate

even total strangers in a convenient fashion.

The concept of hospitality extends to welcoming customers to

business settings, where it certainly makes good sense. Go into a

sari shop in crowded marketplaces and the owner will automatically

offer you a soft drink in the heat. If you’re shopping for an

expensive wedding trousseau, they are even more solicitous—offering

coconut water, a snack and drinks from the market. I recall

my father in his jewelry store not only offering soft drinks,

paan in silver containers and candy, but also giving the kids who

came to the shop small items as gifts.

Untouchables: Yet, one does have to admit that Hinduism’s

glowing hospitality report card does have one very big black

mark on it, something which the Gods probably did not ordain

but which wily man has reinterpreted for his own gain—the

treatment of the so-called lower castes. It is really quite inconceivable

that a loving religion, which proclaims that God is in

every living thing, would denigrate a whole class of human beings

as untouchables.

The story of everyday village India is full of the low castes

being turned away from village wells, being castigated for worshipping

at the temple or merely for passing by the home of a

brahmin. While things are improving in the big cities where

caste and creed lose their importance in the great economic bazaar

and where politicians see the lower castes as potential votes,

the village scene remains woefully medieval. Buried in the back

pages of newspapers are frequent stories of atrocities, which

should shock us all from our complacency and our conceit of just

how “hospitable” we may really be.

Loss of Tradition: In the larger hospitality picture, things seem

to be changing for the worse as the time-honored extended family

finally battles modernity. Dr. T. H. Chowdary

of Hyderabad

writes, “As people leave their villages and joint families break up

and the educated move to flats in the cities, the old idea of hospitality

is fast dying. In the villages and small towns in the past,

in the evening when beggars came for food, whatever was left

in the house would be given away. In those days of no refrigeration,

food could not be kept. Now in the towns and cities, surplus

is stored in refrigerators, which have thus come to be known as

garibmar, the killers of the poor.

“Even when brothers and sisters and such near ones come, one

silently wishes that they will stay in a hotel and, at best, they

might come for a dinner or a breakfast,” he goes on. “What to

speak of caring for the parents or relatives when the wife and

husband have no time even to talk to one another! Or when the

one-year-old child, the only child, is put in a day-care center

so that both the wife and husband can earn enough to satisfy

their ideas of modern comforts, including that refrigerator or

new TV

“What to speak of hospitality for friends and unknowns,” says

Chowdary, “when the nuclear family of wife and husband are

saying that the old father must stay with one son and the old

mother with another son? They want to separate the old parents,

considering them burdens to be shared by the sons.”

As Chowdary observes, with women joining the work force in

large numbers, and time, effort and budgets stretched by modern

life, the old-time hospitality is often compromised.

Earlier,

visitors could just drop in, but now hosts get agitated to find unexpected

guests on the doorstep—a far cry from the hospitality of

the village home’s thinnai.

Sheela Venkatakrishnan agrees: “In recent years, the trend has

become, as Gurudeva said, ‘The women going out of their homes

to work.’ Living in nuclear families, who is there to take care of

the home, leave alone a guest? You tend to think twice about visiting

a friend or relative, not wanting to impose or inconvenience

them in any way.” Still, she points out that they have many relatives

in joint families who welcome them with open arms. She

herself lives in a joint family in Chennai where someone is always

home: “The doors of our home and our hearts are open to

God and all whom He chooses to send our way.”

 

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