A New Calling: Freelance Priests

Hindu Clerics Go Solo to Lead Off-Site Rituals and Meet Needs Of Region's Indian Population

On a dark Sunday morning in a slumbering Ellicott City neighborhood, Bhaskar Sastry, freelance Hindu priest, drove down a private drive toward his 6 a.m. assignment. A stone-front colonial came into view, its porch light revealing a large family waiting in the drizzle, parkas over their vibrant silk saris and kurta pajamas. It was move-in day, but they could not proceed without Sastry.

Soon Sastry, 44, was cracking a white pumpkin on the stoop and chanting prayers to a Hindu goddess, his deep voice piercing the pre-dawn silence. Once inside, he sat cross-legged on the floor and adorned an altar with fruits and flowers. He lit a fire in a roasting pan -- modest enough to abide by fire codes -- and led mantras beseeching deities to ward off evil and bless the new home.

It was just another day in the life of Sastry -- and, increasingly, in the wildly diverse Washington suburbs, where in some places Hindu rituals seem as ordinary as cookouts and kickball.

As the region's Indian population swells, so soars the demand for Hindu ceremonies -- baby-naming services, engagements, blessings for new cars -- that are traditionally performed outside the many priest-staffed temples that dot the area. So, for eight years, Sastry has kept busy as one of the region's few freelance Hindu priests. He navigates suburbs where Indians have bought houses, bringing ancient Hindu rites to modern American landscapes.

"Driving, driving, driving. Our work, a little bit difficult. Driving, a little bit tiring," Sastry said as he steered his sky-blue BMW -- license plate PRIEST-B -- around the Capital Beltway from his Ashburn home to the Ellicott City housewarming, a ceremony considered most auspicious if performed before sunrise. "But this is a respected thing," he said.

Freelance priests are bountiful in India, but just seven serve one of the Washington region's largest ethnic communities. Census data from 2006 indicate that 105,000 Indians live in the area, about 60 percent of whom are immigrants; most have settled in Fairfax, Loudoun, Montgomery and Howard counties. To those who regularly call upon them, Sastry and his counterparts become trusted family priests, akin to family doctors or accountants.

Unlike the traveling preachers of the American frontier, Sastry does not proselytize. The affable priest is booked -- months in advance -- purely for his expertise in the elaborate ceremonies and Sanskrit mantras he studied in his native India. Sastry calls his work "community service." His clients say it is crucial in a nation where second-generation immigrants have little interest in Hindu religious careers.

"He knows it in and out and can guide us," said Lakshminarayana Peri, 37, a software engineer who was a guest on a recent Saturday at a prayer ceremony, or puja, at a townhouse in Stone Ridge, a Loudoun subdivision. As he spoke, Sastry's recitations resonated from a nearby room. "He takes the time."

The hosts were Perraju and Laxmi Vadrevu, who book Sastry every few months. On this night, they were holding an all-occasion rite said to bring prosperity and fulfillment. The ceremony marked the upcoming birthday of their son, Aditya, and their second year in the house.

There were no freelance priests in the region when the Vadrevus arrived 12 years ago, so the couple would conduct ceremonies using recordings of chants brought from India. That involved frequent hits of the "pause" button, making for a functional but "less fulfilling" experience, Laxmi Vadrevu said. Sastry, whom they call a friend, changed that.

"He has the best voice," said Laxmi Vadrevu, 35. "It's perfect."

"Some priests will do the prayer like a business. If you do puja like a business, you cannot impress the gods," said Perraju Vadrevu, 44. "Sastry is really a good guy."