It’s a Sunday morning in Mumbai, and we’ve just stepped outside of the home of my wife and two children, and I’m wearing a green shirt and jeans.
I’m waiting for the bus to leave for a meeting with a client.
This is my house, I tell the driver.
I can’t let her go, I’m told.
I try to reason with her, I say.
She says she’s here because she’s a big fan of the Kuchibhai and Amarnath traditions.
Her husband is an ordained minister, but she doesn’t have time for him.
I say, But I’m married, too.
We’ve got kids.
How can you marry someone who’s never gone to church?
“They don’t have the time,” she says.
“Why are you waiting for me?
I say no, I don’t know.
What do you want?
“I want to know what they believe,” she asks.
She goes on, “I love the way they do it.
I love the fact that they don’t just sit there, waiting for you to say yes.”
I know she doesn’ t mean it.
“They know what it means to be married,” she continues.
“It’s like a vow.”
I want to do it too, she says, “but I’m not sure if I can, because I know how it is.”
I’m just a little kid, she continues, “and we have to take this seriously.”
She pauses and nods, and then adds, I know, I do.
She stops, and she looks up at me, her face a mixture of anger and pity.
“Do you know what my husband does for a living?”
“He’s a minister,” she adds.
I look at her again.
“What are you going to say?” she asks me.
I tell her that I am.
I want her to know how much I love this tradition.
I am a believer, she tells me.
“But what do you do?
You do nothing,” I tell them.
“We are all part of this tradition,” she explains.
I ask her what she believes the meaning of marriage is.
“For me, it’s something I’ve been taught,” she tells the driver, “that when we marry someone, we have a vow to each other.
We are meant to live this way.”
“You are a part of a covenant,” I say to her.
“You have a covenant with God.
Do you know why?” she says hesitantly.
She doesn’t know why she has to be in this house, but the idea of it just makes her smile.
I want her, she explains, to know that when we go to church, we are living in this covenant with a god who cares about us.
I go on to ask her if she’s going to be okay with me marrying her husband if I know the truth.
“Of course I am,” she responds, smiling.
“That’s how it works.”
I ask why she’s married.
“Because we love each other,” she replies.
I asked if she thought that she could live a life of celibacy.
“No,” she said, “not even with my husband.”
“I am so glad you’ve married me, she asks, “because you’ve made me a better person.
“I am going to do everything I can to make this happen, she insists.
When I asked her if there was anything she didn’t know about the Kuchi and Amarna traditions, she responded, “The Kuchis are the ones who have been keeping the tradition going for thousands of years.
They’ve always been doing what they know.
The Amarnas have been doing this since the time of Abraham.
“But how do I know what the Amarnaks believe?
The Kuchi, on the other hand, are available for you, she states. “
The Amarnak scriptures are not available for the public,” she informs me.
The Kuchi, on the other hand, are available for you, she states.
“This is something we do for you,” she goes on.
What is a Kuchi tradition?
The Kuchi is a practice of non-violence, according to the Amarna tradition.
It’s also known as the Amarasutva tradition, and is practiced by many different religious groups in India.
The practice is practiced in the traditional Indian religion of Amarnatha.
Why is this so important?
Because Amarna is the ancestor of Hinduism.
It was a religion that had its origins in the desert, and was influenced by the Amaranthas.
But by the early part of the 1500s, the practice of Amarna had come under attack from Christianity and Buddhism, and many Amarnatas became followers of the Christian church.
Amarna was not a religion of celiac disease, and