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Talking Myths - An online archive of traditional tales from Indian subcontinent
Blog

Olympia: Where myth meets history

The guide’s voice carried on behind me, in front of me were my excited daughter and husband racing fellow tourists across a stretch of grassy meadow… I was at Olympia, gazing at some marble blocks embedded in the earth that had been excavated first by German archeologists in the 19th century! These marble blocks, worn down by the ages and elements were the actual starting blocks for the historical Olympic Games that started sometime around 776 BCE and continued every four years till they were abolished by the Roman Emperor Theodoisus I in 393 AD. The sheer ‘drama’ embedded in the history of the place itself is enough to give even the most hardened onlooker a few goose bumps. But when one spins back and lets one’s mind wander off to the mythic origin of the games at Olympia, the sense of wonder and marvel is multiplied. For here on these plains, one can experience a continuous chain of ritual unbroken from the time of the mythic hero Herakles to the recorded history of the ancient four-yearly games in Greece’s ‘Golden’ classical age to the torch-lighting ceremony that is practiced during modern Olympics Games right here in the 21st century!

The mythic origin of the Games goes such: Herakles, that greatest of Greek heroes, the son of Zeus was celebrated throughout the lands for his ‘mythical’ physical strength. It was he, who established the games at Olympia and decreed that Greek men from all the city-states should meet on these plains every four years to participate in many ‘sporting’ feats as a way to honour Zeus. Our guide further informed us that legend says that Herakles inaugurated the games at Olympia and was present himself to act as an ‘umpire’. It was Herakles who instituted the ritual of honouring the victors with an olive wreath, a tradition which was continued till the 4th century AD!

So Olympia and the Games are, in a way, a classic case study for the myth-ritual branch of academic discourse. What is a historical fact is that scholars can trace back the games in Olympia to as early as 776 BC! Whether the myth of Herakles honouring his father, Zeus was a myth created to sanctify the ritual of this sporting event or whether the enactment of this wonderful celebration of the human body’s striving to transcend ordinary physical constraints was a rite designed to bring alive the achievements of Herakles and other heroes, it is for scholars to decide.

The ‘marble’ proof of the mythic association of Herakles with the ancient Olympia games is preserved today in the museum at Olympia. These are the fragments of the sculpted metopes that depicted the Labours of Hercules and decorated the Temple of Zeus that stood outside the sports stadium at Olympia! In fact, some scholars say that the Olympian metopes were probably the first instance when the twelve ‘Labours of Hercules’ were grouped together and recorded for posterity!

Though finding comparable myths and spotting their parallels in rituals etc. is among the greatest joys of the amateur ‘student’ of mythology, the Olympic Games are in fact quite unique and have very few parallels outside Ancient Greece. Some of the points that distinguish and tie in the tradition of the Olympic Games from other such ancient practices are:

• This is a ritual designed to honour the Father of the Gods but is in its essence quite secular. While a temple was built in Olympia dedicated to Zeus(in fact, it housed one of the ancient wonders, the magnificent towering statue of Zeus by Phidias) which attracted votive offerings from far and wide, the main significance of the Olympian plains was demonstrating ,celebrating and honouring exceptional physical feats by men.
• Closer to home, we have the example of the ‘swayamvar’ a mass display of exceptional male physical prowess. But in this case the reward was material, the princess and through her power and the throne. The Olympic Games on the other hand were all about honour and glory. The only ‘material’ reward was the olive wreath for the winner while the fame and prestige that the athletes won throughout the land was the real inspiration.
• To my mind, the most singular aspect of the games at Olympia was the democratic and inclusive principles on which they were founded. The Herakles myth does not detail any conditions that the great hero laid down for participation. And the recorded history from the 8th century BC is clear on one point- to start with, any able bodied Greek man could take part, whether king or noble man or peasant. While restricted to only Greeks, after some centuries, participation was extended to men from the colonies and later in first century AD even to Romans. Surely, this level of democratisation was quite unique in those ages of antiquity. Think of the discrimination faced by one of the greatest heroes of Indian epics, Karna. When Karna came face to face with the Pandavas first time in the arena where the royal princes were showing off the skills they had learnt from Drona, his superb talent in matching Arjuna’s skill, was not applauded by all. Instead, Kripa stepped forward and mocked Karna as he was not a known Kshatriya and of uncertain parentage. Even after Duryodhanna crowned Karna the king of Anga, some versions of the Mahabharata recount how at Draupadi’s swayamvara, the princess herself demurred to let Karna try his hand at the contest as he was not of royal birth. Contrast this with the Olympic games: even though the mythic founder, Herakles, was of semi-divine parentage, the games were open to all Greek men above a certain age!
• However, the democratic foundations of the mythic and ancient games were not absolute. Neither Herakles nor the Ancient Greeks were imaginative enough to allow women to participate. Nor were slaves permitted. Though the Olympia site is unique in that, next to the magnificent Temple of Zeus, there stood a temple of Hera, it seems that women were permitted only to take part in introductory rituals such as the lighting of the torches. A tradition that is kept alive to this date- when every four years the modern Olympic Torch is lit at Olympia by women and is then carried by sports stars, other icons and others to the actual venue. Women were not even allowed to be spectators!

Someone wise once said that the Greeks modeled all their Gods on themselves and not the other way round (unlike later Christian doctrine where God created Man in his image). The Olympic ritual exemplifies this ideological foundation beautifully! The Gods of Olympia could race faster than the wind, fly and seemed not to be bound by any of the physical limitations of the human body! The heroes like Herakles who were usually semi-divine actually took on the gods and occasionally triumphed. And finally, you had the citizens of the Greek states run, jump, wrestle, use javelins and iron balls almost too heavy to be lifted, on the Olympian plains every four years to show the Universe and Nature, that the human body can be trained, can be pushed to achieve feats almost miraculous and thus reach heights that can only be imagined for the Gods.

I am glad to have had the privilege to stand on the grassy tracks that witnessed the feats of countless athletes who participated for the glory of nothing but an olive wreath because this event symbolizes one of the earliest expressions of what it is to be human! I can think of very few other rituals/events/myths wherein people strove, pushed themselves, competed not for the spoils of war or conquest or riches – but just because as humans ‘we can!’

RUKMINI GUPTE

October 1, 2015by admin
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Beliefs and Traditions

When God turned his back

Why would a god turn his back to his devotees and show his hind side? I asked the man who was talking to me from other side of telephone.

“It is really hard to answer this question on the telephone”. Mumbled the man, who had introduced me as the Pujari of the shrine. “Why don’t you come here and attend the annual jatra and all your questions would be answered.”

Armed with an invitation I decided to travel 400 kms from Mumbai in deep interiors of Maharashtra. The god in question is called Darling ( pronounced as the-r-ling), an avatar of lord Shiva.* What intrigued me was I had never heard of god being worshipped by his hind side — “dhunganacha dev“** ( the arse god) as one villager lovingly described him.  Located 60 km from Pandharpur, this sleepy hamlet of Chal, in Maharashtra comes alive on full moon of Chaitra ( Chaitra Pournima) to celebrate the wedding of lord Darling with his wife Mitabai . The Jatra festivities lasts for three days.

As we proceeded towards the shrine in pitch darkness on a mud road– few glittering lights in distance and blaring  noises of loudspeaker was the only visible signs of a temple activity. When we approached the temple we could see people had started arriving in groups.

The belief is- once the three-day celebrations are over, shrine is cleaned and locked. No humans beings, that includes the Pujari of the temple should stay or stray around the shrine. Else, bhutas , who come visiting the lord devour living beings that come in their way. A large water pitcher and a basket full of puran polis( a local preparation of sweet roti) are left for the bhutas( spirits) who then take over the premise after devotees leave.

After the wedding celebrations were over I gathered few village elders to solve the mystery of god Darling’s posture. The answers were as intriguing and confusing as the question itself.

According to Datta Dnyandev Lokre a village elder – “ A rich man from the village had two wives.  Both women bore children at the same time. But younger wife got jealous and came to lord Darling and asked the god to ‘ take away’ the child of other wife. Darling was very pained by the request but he had to oblige her request since he never declines vows made to him. He took away the child but to show his displeasure he turned his back to his devotees.”

In another version of the legend, narrated by Shivaji Waghmode, a village head– “Once upon a time a local king Jethoba, ruled over Chal . There lived a daitya*** in his kingdom. Daitya would harass his subjects and would devour them time-to-time. Jethoba could not get rid of daitya as he was very powerful.  Jethoba, a devotee of Shiva did penance for 12 yrs. Finally, Shiva was pleased by his devotion and he asked Jethoba to ask for a boon. Jethoba narrated the woes of his subjects and terror the daitya has caused in his kingdom. He pleaded Shiva to get rid of daitya and bring peace in his kingdom. Shiva came to Chal riding on his horse. A fierce battle broke between Shiva and the daitya. At one point Shiva entered a dari (meaning abyss in Marathi) and disappeared . As Daitya followed him , Shiva attacked the daitya and killed him. To celebrated the invisible form of Shiva hiding in the abyss, locals venerate him only by his hind part that remained visible but rest of his body disappeared in the mountains. He is called by the name Dariling from then on”.

One of the office bearer’s of the shrine committee had the following version. When Mughals conquered this region locals enclosed the shrine by brick and mortar so that Muslims would not desecrate it. After many years when Muslim rulers were defeated and left the region villagers decided to open the shrine. But they had forgotten which was the front gate and the hind gate of the shrine. They opened the shrine from opposite end. And first thing they found or saw of the deity was the hind side. They have worshipped the god in that form since then.

But the most probable explanation seems to come from a woman devotee who told me this version. “There was a jatra of this deity. After jatra got over everyone left the premise as mentioned in the tradition of the shrine. Unfortunately one poor farmer women forgot her child in the temple premise, as she left the shrine is great hurry. Everyone left the premise and the priest left the shrine locking its door behind. God Darling was waiting for Bhutas to enter in when he heard the baby cry. He knew if Bhutas were to see this baby they would not hesitate to devour it. God quickly grabbed the baby and turned his back, hiding him from the gaze of bhutaganas. Next day the child was found in market place. When temple pujari doors were opened the temple shrine after bhutas had left, he found that their god has turned his back to them.

This tale coincides with the belief that lord Darling is the protector of children. It is believed that Darling responds to the call of people when they prey for progeny. And if their vow is fulfilled they bring their young ones in this temple. A ritual is conducted next day of the Jatra- where the main pujari of the shrine throws these young wards from the temple rooftop – into the hands of anxious parents waiting to grab them. Devotees believe that this ritual strengthens their faith in the god who ‘safely’ delivers their children to them.

* I was told that god Darling- an avatara of Shiva originates from Ujjain, that is one of the 12 Jyotirlingas. Originally the sect belongs to three brothers all known as Darling dev. The elder brother settled at Chal , middle brother stayed at Ambegaon and the younger brother lived in Tarapur village .

** When I discussed the term ‘dhunganacha dev’ with the pujari , he refused to acknowledge such a term and said it would be derogatory to use such description for the god. I also noticed there was an attempt to rewrite the original history of the shrine, which was originally worshipped by hatkar and dhanagar class (shepherd caste).

***In Hinduism, the Daityas are a clan or race of Asura as are the Danavas. Daityas were the children of Diti and the sage Kashyapa. They were a race of giants who fought against the Devas because they were jealous of their Deva half-brothers. The female Daityas are described as wearing jewelry the size of boulders.

Story Collected By Vidya Kamat

Stories told by :Sudhaker Dnyandev Lokre, Shivaji Waghmode, Ratnaker Gaikewad, Ushabai Farad

Location : Chal, Maharashtra.

Image details: Image of lord Darling at Chal.

Image copyright: Vidya Kamat

September 15, 2015by admin
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Myth

The virgin goddess

At the tip of Indian subcontinent, where three mighty oceans – The Indian Ocean, Arabian sea and Bay of Bengal meet, lies the shrine of the virgin goddess or Kanyakumari . There are many legends that explain why the goddess has remained a virgin and here is one.

Banasura the asura, meditated upon Brahma for years. Pleased with his devotion, Brahma granted him a boon. Banasura asked that he be killed by no man in this universe, only a woman could bring about his end. The boon having been bestowed pleased Banasura no end and he promptly reported it to his preceptor Shukra. To his surprise Shukra reprimanded Banasura saying, “You fool! You should have asked for death only at the hands of a virgin. Virgins are rare on earth. Go back to Brahma and perform rigorous tapas and ask him to modify the boon. Be specific that only a virgin can kill you”.

Confused Banasura asked Shukra, “But why do you say virgins are rare?” Shukra replied, “This world constitutes of Shiva and Shakti. Neither can exist without each other and therefore, virgins are rare.” Convinced by the logic of the argument, Bana sought Brahma’s blessings one more time and was duly rewarded. With his newly acquired power, Banasura conquered the three worlds and started harassing sages and devas. Frustrated, the devas approached Vishnu, who suggested that they go to Parashakti, the mother goddess. It was in her power to solve their problems he said and so the sages began performing the required sacrifices to Parashakti.

Pleased, the goddess appeared before them in the form of a young girl. After listening to their problems she promised them deliverance from the demon. At the right time she would eliminate Banasura and restore peace on earth, she said. True to her word, she donned the form of a beautiful maiden and went to the southern-most edge of the world where she lay in wait for Banasura. In this form she came to be known as Kanyakumari, the virgin girl.

One day Shiva (in the form Suchindaram) happened to pass by and noticed her and the austere life that she was living. He instantaneously fell in love with her and expressed his wish to marry her. The goddess agreed and the marriage was fixed for an auspicious hour by midnight. Now Sage Narad heard the news and was alarmed because he realized that if the marriage took place then Kanyakumari would no longer remain a virgin and she would not be able to kill Banasura. He decided to take matters in his hands and went to Kanyakumari and told her that perhaps it was not Shiva who wanted to marry her, but Banasura in disguise. To verify his true identity, he told her that she should ask Shiva to bring three items that could not be obtained anywhere in the world: a coconut without eyes, a mango without a seed, and a betel leaf without veins. Kanyakumari did as asked but Shiva easily fulfilled her demands and the marriage was back on schedule.

A worried Narad decided to trick Shiva (Suchindaram) instead. As Shiva embarked on the journey to the bride’s home with his wedding party, Narada assumed the form of a cock and prematurely announced the arrival of dawn. Shiva-Suchindaram was distraught as he assumed that he had missed the auspicious hour. He turned back leaving an anxious Kanyakumari waiting for her groom in bridal clothes. When the sun came up and her groom had not arrived, the goddess threw a tantrum, kicking all the utensils and food items that were part of the marriage ceremony. In anger she cursed them to turn into pebbles and shells of the sea. And even today, you can find sand grains that resemble rice grains on the beaches of Kanyakumari. Heartbroken, the goddess vowed that she would remain a virgin till the day Shiva came to her as her groom.

News of the beauty of the goddess and her severe austerities soon reached Banasura. He sought her hand in marriage but she refused him. The demon decided to take her by force leading to a fierce battle between the two. In the end Banasura was killed by her discus. A dying Banasura asked for forgiveness and repented his adharmic actions and the goddess, in an act of compassion, proclaimed that the waters of the ocean would wash away all his sins.

Story collected by: Vidya kamat
Text Source: Tamil Temple Myths by David Dean Shulman
Location: Tamil Nadu

September 1, 2015by admin
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Taboo

A girl who ate a fruit.

She was my best friend in seventh grade. We sat on the same bench. Shared food, shared our secrets, gossiped and secretly giggled at our teachers.

As teenagers, these were exciting years of our lives as everything around us seemed bubbling with life. . But it was mostly the curiosity of our changing bodies that played on our minds. One day my friend came up to me and whispered in my ear “ I have to tell you something very important ” What I asked, baffled by her urgency. “Don’t ever- ever eat leftover food or zoota. Especially, if it is a fruit eaten by a boy”. Not getting the clue I asked “why?”

She told me this story

Once there was a Brahmin couple. They did not have children for years. After doing sever penance to lord Shiva, they were blessed with a girl child. The couple was so happy that they would spend all their time pampering the new born baby. Once a sage came to their house begging for alms. But the couple was so engrossed with the new born baby that they did not hear the sage’s request. The sage got furious for being ignored and cursed the baby that she would be the cause of pain and shame for her parents by becoming an unwed mother.

The couple was saddened by the sage’s decree. But they could do nothing to revert sage’s mood. When the girl grew in to a beautiful woman, old parents told her about the sage’s curse. Girl heard the father’s plea and promised him that she would never hurt her parents by bringing shame to the family. In order to avoid the fate she declared she would renounce from worldly pleasures and live life of a celibate nun. With heavy heart, her old parents agreed to her resolve. Thus the girl started living alone in a small hut outside the town. As a nun she would live a simple life having no belongings. She did not eat any cooked food; slept on a hard floor and kept away from all male company.

One day when she had gone to the lake to fetch the water. A thief running away from the cops entered her hut. Hungry and tired he searched for food and found a fruit in the corner. As he took a bite; he heard footsteps approaching the hut. He dropped the fruit and ran away in the jungle. When the girl sat down to eat she found the only fruit which was her food for the day was half eaten. Who could have come in this jungle besides animals? She thought to herself. May be a hungry rabbit might have taken a bite. Since she had nothing else to eat she ate the remaining fruit and drank water to keep her hunger away.

Alas! The fate had caught up with her. The girl got pregnant after she ate the fruit. The sage’s curse had come true.

Story Collected by : Vidya Kamat

Location: Karvar, Karnataka

Story Told by: : Pratima Kamat

Image source: Wikipedia

August 21, 2015by admin
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Myth

The Nath Jogi’s head

Earlier this year I visited Nashik for work, and in the little time that I had, I decided to visit the Kala Ram Mandir, known for its black stone sculptures of Ram, Krishna and Sita. This area is famously known as Panchavati, the spot where Sita was abducted from, as described in the Ramayana. Nearby one can find the Sita-gumha—the caves where Sita lived during her stay here. In fact the root of the name Nashik lies in the ‘nose’ (nasika, in Sanskrit) of Surpanakha, which was cut off by Lakshmana.

But what I found most remarkable was what a local person pointed out to me: the river Godavari, which originates about 20 km away at Trimbakeshwar and flows west to east, twists slightly to the south at this point, making it a favourite place for casting away the bones of the dead and even conducting funeral ceremonies (shraddha). Ram is said to have performed his father’s funeral rites here. This twisting of a river is what makes a portion of a river sacred and transforms it into a pilgrim spot. Varanasi or Kashi, for example, is located at the spot where the Ganga that normally flows south, for a short distance, flows north.

It was in the late 18th century that Sardar Odhekar had a dream that led him to find the statues of Ram, Lakshman and Sita on the riverbed of the Godavati at the spot that we now call Ram Kund. He had this magnificent temple built. The temple is made of black stone, and is rather stark, when compared to the Trimbakehswara Shiva temple. There are a few carvings here: a makara to mark the drains, elephants to mark the four directions, with one of the elephants bearing a human, said to represent the artisans who died while building the temple, an enterprise that took nearly 12 years. The corridor along the outer periphery wall is lined with Islamic arches, reminding us of the close ties between Marathas and Mughals and Deccani Sultans in that period. But what is most remarkable is the story of human sacrifice (nara-bali) linked to the temple that I heard at dinner that evening.

The temple for Kala Ram was being built; the construction underway for many years seemed to never get over. There were numerous accidents and delays to the job. Finally, the astrologers and oracles were consulted. They advised, smaller temples of Hanuman and Ganesha and Dattatreya had to be built within the temple complex. And a human sacrifice was demanded! The idea terrified the locals. It was an obsolete practice. And blood sacrifice in a Vaishnavite shrine? Who would agree to it? To their surprise a member of the Nath-panth agreed. The name of this Nath-jogi is in all probability Ganesha-nath.

Who are the Naths? They are a band of wandering celibate mendicants who follow the guru tradition, and have their own unique mythology. The group traces its origins to Dattatreya, the first guru, the son of Atri and Anasuya, who is said to be the embodiment of Shiva, Vishnu and Brahma. Their most famous leader, traced to 10th century AD, though believed to be even older, is Matsyendrath and his student Gorakhnath, who overshadowed his master. Typically, the Naths speak of nine leaders. Kanif-nath, Gahini-nath, Jalendra-nath, Chaurangi-nath and Bhartri-nath are among them and so are the famous 13th century poet-saint Gyaneshwara, or Gyana-nath, and his elder brother, Nivritti-nath. The Naths are nomadic and are identified as ‘split-ear’ (kan-patha) jogis, who wear a special type of earring made of rhinoceros skin. They carry pincers (chimta), fire (dhuni), dress in saffron or ochre, smear themselves with ash, and bedeck themselves with strings of the rudraksha seed. They chant, ‘Alakh Niranjan!’ referring to the nirguna form of the divine, and whenever they meet other members of the Nath-panth, they say, ‘Adesh!’ which declares their belief that the jiva, atma and param-atma are the same. Some identify themselves as Shaivites, tracing the roots to Lakulesh-nath of the Pashupata sect. Others identify themselves as Vaishnavites, with the nine naths being identified as avatars of nava-Narayana.

Ganesh-Nath’s head was cut and buried in the chowk before the temple which is now called Naga chowk, though it really means Nath chowk. His body was buried within the temple walls and a small shrine to the Nath jogi was erected there. We can still see it near the entrance. Every 12 years, when kumbha-mela is held in Nashik, over a thousand members of the Nath order take residence in the Kala Ram Mandir. It is handed over to them for a month, out of gratitude for the sacrifice of one of their own which made the temple possible. In this month a hearth, akhanda dhuni, is maintained and all jogis from around India, from various akharas and mathas, present themselves and declare their identity, in keeping with the old tradition of keeping muster and to inform others that their master’s lineage is still thriving. Not much is known about the Nath-panth. There are very few books about their history, traditions, stories, symbols and rituals. There is an air of mystery around them and orally transmitted stories such as these make them seem exotic and enigmatic.

Is the story true? A good mythologist will never bother to answer this question. For what matters truly is what locals believe to be true: subjective truth, which is myth, always true for the insider, and false for the outsider, proof notwithstanding.

Story collected by: Devdutt Pattanaik
Location: Maharashtra

August 1, 2015by admin
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Myth

How a village got its deity

In a small village near Ujjire, Mangalore, there lived not more than a hundred families; all god-fearing, hardworking and simple people. Set between small hills and a few rivulets, the village was picturesque and a haven for the people who lived there. The village had a small temple that was looked after by a priest who was held in high esteem by the villagers. He was a pious man and would never eat until he had performed all the rituals twice daily, early morning before sunrise and after sunset.

One such day, just before the sunrise, a sadhu with a kamandalu (a small brass pot) filled with water from the Ganges, walked into this temple. The priest was pleased to see him and invited him to his house so that he could share a meal with his family. The sadhu accepted his invitation, but on one condition. He would not eat until he had prayed and performed all the attendant rituals in front of “lingam” with the sacred water that he had been carrying. Now the temple did not have a Shiva Lingam, but only a small figurine of a deity known to the villagers as the “the Protector of the Village”.

The priest was at a loss. He wept in front of the temple god and vowed to go without food until the sadhu’s wishes were fulfilled. Three days went by but the priest refused to get up for even a sip of water. The third day, just before sunrise, the priest opened his eyes to see a bright light emanating from the temple within which was a lingam. The sadhu was finally appeased and also highly impressed with the priest’s devotion. He blessed the priest and said that he would visit him every year to partake of the feast offered to the lingam.

Since then the village has been named “Dharmasthal” and every day at noon, the priest sets aside a portion of food prepared for the deity and the lingam after all his morning rituals. The practice continues till date and the food, it is said, disappears without fail, every day. None can explain this but some have said that a huge bird, resembling an eagle, visits this hill every noon to eat the offered food.

The devotees however strongly feel that the sadhu who visited the priest was Lord Shiva and that he is the one who comes every day, to keep his promise. And it is this faith that draws thousands of devotees here regularly. And, as per the high priest’s wishes (known as Hegde), free meals are offered to everybody who visits this place.

STORY COLLECTED BY: Anjali S. Pai Panandiker
STORY TOLD BY: Meera Balse
LOCATION: Karnataka
Artist . E. A. Rodrigues. From The complete pantheon comprising principal deities worshiped by the Natives of British India throughout Hindoostan
Image Source: wikipedia

August 1, 2015by admin
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Blog

The world in a bangle

The stories that we tell shape our lives and define our roles within our communities. They are incredibly powerful. And if we want to create change – effective sustainable change – it is these stories that we need to change.

Have you ever wondered what happened to the narrative of women? How is it that the woman started off as the supreme goddess worthy of worship and ended up at the bottom of the food chain? What changed?

The story begins with woman as the goddess and she was the goddess because she had the ultimate power – she could create life. That was the ultimate miracle and that is what made her worthy of worship.

Ironically as time moved on it was not her story that changed – after all she still creates life – is the way the story was told that changed. Woman no longer created life because she could or because she wanted to but because she was told that she had to, she was told when and she was told with whom!

Her ability to create life was no longer seen as her power but her duty as a subservient being. This was now the weapon with she was to be dominated.

The same things that made woman the goddess are now what make her the slave. It is not the story that changes but how you tell it. It is the tiniest little shift in the story.

Interestingly, every 1000 years or so, a revolution seems to take place in the narrative of women. We can trace a pattern of renaissance, a kind of resurgence; like the crest of a wave which attempts to overturn the existing stories of disenfranchisement and retell them as they were to begin with—an empowering narrative. At the turn of this millennium we are once again in the midst of a narrative revolution and whether by accidental birth or by the design of karmic rebirth we are the women into whose laps this renaissance has fallen. In the cycle of events it is an extraordinary time to be around because now it is we who must decide how to change this narrative.

It is time to look at our stories – and I would like to begin with this tiny story….

In the Hindu traditions of North India on the morning of the wedding the bride is given a set of red and ivory bangles to wear. They are arranged in a set except for one extra white bangle that sits on the outside of the set which is known as Gaurja ki Choorri (the goddess Parvati’s bangle). When I was getting married I remember asking the priest what that extra bangle meant and he told me that the bangle was a bride’s prayer to the goddess Parvati to grant her a husband just like goddess’s own husband.

Now I had to wonder about this. The goddess’s husband Shiva, though a great God (and I am sure many wonderful things in his own way) is not an ideal husband by any stretch of imagination. He drinks, he indulges in narcotic habits, he keeps the worst kind of company, he disappears for months on end because he wants alone time. He is a hermit so doesn’t believe in jewellery and nice things generally. I mean why would I want to pray for a husband like him?

So it took a bit if research but I finally found out – yes, that extra bangle is a prayer to the goddess but the prayer says ‘please give me the strength to love my husband even if he is like yours’. (Alf Hiltebeitel)
Now that’s a story that makes sense

Incidentally there is a school of thought that women want a Shiva-esque man – the thrill of the ‘bad boy’ syndrome. This story teller would like to hear your views.

SEEMA ANAND

July 1, 2015by admin
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Folk-Myth

The curse of Rama

Boom Boom Maattukkaarar* -is a nomadic tribe from the northern district of Tamil Nadu. Dressed in colourful clothes and singing praises of Lord Rama on their urumi maelam, a musical instrument , they beg for food in the name of the sacred bull they bring along wherever they go. They believe that once upon a time they were wealthy landowners who led a comfortable lives by farming their land. But Lord Rama put a curse on them, and from then on they have become wanderers, and beggars for life.

The sad tale of how it all came to be goes like this.

It seems, once upon a time the forefathers of Poovidaiyaans – (Boom Boom Maattukkaarar ) lived a peaceful settled life, by farming their land. But things turned sour when Lord Rama came to them as yaasakan ( beggar) and asked for food, and the Poovidaiyaans not knowing his real identity refused to offer any food to the hungry man.

The beggar did not budge and insisted on receiving some food as alms as he was very hungry. The Poovidaiyaans became adamant and refused to offer him food. The stand off in the form of arguments and counter arguments went on for a while. Finally, the beggar requested them to give him a portion of the grain from the coming harvest to save him from hunger and starvation.

The Poovidaiyaans promised him that they would give him half their yield, every harvest season. The beggar accepted the deal. As he was about to leave, Poovidaiyaans asked him whether he would prefer the mael mahasul ( upper part of the yield) or the keel mahasul ( lower part of the yield). The beggar said he preferred mael mahasul, the top part. The deal was sealed. And the beggar left promising to come next season to collect his share of grain when the harvest is ready for reaping.

That season, Poovidaiyaans cultivated their land and grew ground nuts. As promised, the beggar came to them during reaping season, to collect the assured portion of grain. Poovidaiyaans gave him the bundle of groundnut stems and leaves, telling him that it is the mael mahasul he had opted for. The beggar accepted the leaves with disappointment and looked on while Poovidaiyaans gleefully gathered the nuts. Poovidaiyaans rejoiced and congratulated themselves on their cleverness. When the beggar was about to leave, Poovidaiyaans again asked the same question- “ Which part of the crop you would like to have the coming season?”. The beggar thought for a while and said keel mahasul, the bottom part.

The next season Poovidaiyaans planted paddy. When the beggar arrived to collect his share, they kept the grain and gave him bottom part, the paddy straws and was cheated again by land holding Poovidaiyaans. The beggar became furious on the repeated humiliation and revealed his true identity. Only then did the Poovidaiyaans realize that the beggar was none other then Lord Rama.

Rama then cursed them to be nomads and suffer from hunger and starvation like he did. He gave them the suraikkudukkai ( bottle gourd) as their begging bowl. He also gave them a bull named after him and warned them that they should not cultivate the land ever again. That is how these rich land owners became penniless nomads.

Ever since, generations of Poovidaiyaans have been begging for food from door to door, singing the praises of lord Rama, accompanied by the sacred bull.

*Boom Boom Mattukaran or Adiyan or Poo Idayar are a group of nomadic tribal people found primarily in Tamil Nadu and Kerala in the southern part of India. Historically they have made a living by traveling from place to place with a decorated bull, entertaining and fortune telling using what is generally termed a Boom Boom Ox. They are believed to have originated from Andhra Pradesh state and speak in Tamil intermixed with Telugu. Their traditional livelihood is no longer sustainable and they survive on begging and physical labour. ( Source Wikipedia)

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Story collected by : Vidya Kamat

Text Source: “ The Curse and Absolution: A study on the Role of Origin Myths among Nomads, with special reference to Boom Boom Maattukkaarar community”, by A. Dhananjayan

Indian Folklore research Journal – Vol 4, No 7, December 2007, pp 51-63

Location: Tamil Nadu

Image credit and copyright https://www.flickr.com/photos/lkamala/164082524

June 21, 2015by admin
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Myth

Indra and Vritra

The dark monstrous creature had swallowed all the moisture from the atmosphere. Every drop of water he sucked from the air, his formless body,  that swell like a dragon- serpent, twirling and twisting against the bright sky. Asura- Vritra – had captured the heavens.

People on the earth began to die, as draught like conditions prevailed over earth. As people suffered for want of water, Asura- Vritra’s pleasure grew no bounds. He hissed in joy and rolled in the sky with malicious laughter resounding thunder. He would spew mist and shower hails to frighten the people, who ran helter-skelter with fear . Further, he would create chaos by suddenly darkening the sky by hiding the Sun behind his monstrous dark body. Asura Vritra was out to destroy the world.

Frightened and scared of Asura Vritra, people began to pray to Gods but none could help. Asura- Vritra was far more powerful than the Gods. Finally, Gods approached Indra- the bravest of all the King, to save the people from ultimate death and destruction.

Indra, son of Dyava and Prithvi, was bravest and a fearless warrior of his time. He ruled over the mid region or Atmospheric region. He rode on a chariot of four horses specially designed by Rhubhus, that moved faster than lightning. Indra was a tall man, with a muscular body, with four arms and golden coloured hair. But many believed he was also a shape shifter. His long flowing beard would often ruffle in breeze as he zoomed past in his chariot. He was addicted to drinking Soma- the elixir that gave him the strength to fight wars. But his greatest strength was his magical weapon – a thunderbolt made of hardest material called Vajra .

Accepting the God’s plea to save the earth, Indra challenged the Asura Vritra in battle. As they engaged in a battle – the whole universe trembled. Asura Vritra attacked Indra by crackling thunders and snorting mist. In return Indra threw his thunderbolt at Asura, lightening the whole sky. The battle went on for days. People on earth watched the battle with awe and fear. Finally Indra smote Asura Vritra in a fatal strike with his bolt that pierced him in his back.

Asrura Vritra cried out in a final thunder, as waters came gushing out his body and fell on the earth. Water from sky soon started flowing in streams and rivers. People on earth rejoiced with glee. They bowed before Indra . Indra had saved the mankind from extinction by rescuing the waters from Asura-Vritra. Men praised him and Gods crowned him as the King of the Gods. He was called “Vritrahan”- the killer of Vrita”

This is how ancient seers from Vedic period described the phenomena of ‘ rain ‘ in Rigveda. It is one of the most recounted tales and an important myth from Veda. Lot of rituals are constructed around this tale. A belief- still believed around India that God send us rains.

Story collected by : Vidya Kamat

Source: RV. I.32.5

Location : Pan India

June 8, 2015by admin
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Folktale

Vayu’s predicament

There is a myth, at least there was in the times gone by, when my mother was a girl. It is that women do not suffer from the curse of flatulence. She told me this story. In a Goan village, many years ago, folks lived in harmony. There lived amongst them two families who had two sons of marriageable ages. Both of them, it was said, were born on the same day, same time right down to the exact moment of birth. Duly, and dutifully too, their parents arranged their marriages. Their respective wives also had striking resemblance to one another. So striking was their likeness that newcomers to that village believed that they were sisters.

However, the outer similarities did not bespeak of their inner make up and their characters. While one was sweet, the other was bitter; one the very embodiment of womanhood, the other had flaws in her nature not quite in keeping with the norms of feminine temperament. But there was no discord between either because of or in spite of their contrasting natures. In fact, both the girls soon won the trust and affection of all elders in the village.

One day there was a function in one house hold. The newlywed bride (the sweet one) was so adept at all the household work that not only did she help arrangements but cooked, it was said, a meal most delicious. Just as the men folk were busy satiating their appetites, the girl had an irrepressible urge to release pent up intestinal gasses. The girl panicked, for to let go in a hall full of people, all men at that, was the most horrifying predicament. She excused herself and rushed into the confines of a suitable antechamber, but alas! It was a tad late. All heard the most embarrassing sound enhanced by the concentrated quiet of the lunch hour and knew at once its producer. The poor girl ran right out of the dining hall through the passage out into the back yard where the well was. Not looking behind, she rushed on and jumped straight into the well overcome with shame.

In no time she drowned and her soul went directly to heaven. There, in heaven, Indra, the god of thunder was presiding. The celestial court was in session! The guards tried to hold the newly dead girl when she rushed to fall at the Gods lotus feet. The ensuing commotion interrupted the court proceedings. Looking at the lovely girl, puzzled by her young age, Indra asked Chitragupta, the Divine bookkeeper, the cause of her death. Chitragupta told Indra what had happened. He felt sorry that a young girl, in prime of her youth, was overcome with shame because of flatulence. He sent summons to the King of gas, Vayu who presented himself before Indra with folded hands. Indra, revealed the reason for his summons and ordered him never to inflict women. “From now on no woman will entertain you!” said Indra. Vayu accepted the command, and retreated with his Godly dignity.

Indra turned to the girl and smiled. “There!”, he said, :” From now on all women will live a long life bereft of the ignominy and shame of flatulence.” Then he called his treasurer, Kubera, and asked him to bedeck the girl with his priceless ‘abhushanas’ and asked Yama, Death, to bring her back to life and her homestead. Then he blessed the girl and bid her leave.

Down below, on earth, there was commotion near the well. The husband of the girl had jumped into the well. He had dived to look for her body many times but had failed. He dived again. This time, he touched something. So he quickly grabbed it. It was her arm and he pulled her out. The girl was resuscitated and brought home to rest after this tense incident.

Next morning, as though nothing at all had happened, the girl set about her chores. She went to the well to fetch water. There, all the women had gathered. They were restive, dying to know how the girl had managed to not only survive, but how she had come up with such exquisite ornaments of diamonds and gold. They had noticed the dangling diamonds dazzling her face. They all rushed to her with the other girl leading (the bitter one). She was the most curious of them all!

“What happened? Where did you get this? Is there gold at the bottom of the well? – There was a barrage of questions from the curious ladies.The girl calmly told her unbelievable story. No one believed her. They thought that the girl was fibbing in order to avoid telling them the truth. No one believed her, except her neighbour. They both knew each other well enough to know when the other was telling a lie.
After filling their pots the women dispersed. The other girl was thoughtful. She also wanted the diamonds and decided upon a plan. Soon enough an opportunity presented itself. The girl cooked many dishes, all with gas inducing ingredients. Before lunch the girl, with the pretext of tasting the dishes consumed much food. Her belly was tight! She tried hard to release the gas, but in vain! She ate more, and more; tried harder. She kept on trying to fart but it was not to be.

Vayu was a faithful ally of Indra, the king of gods. The girl was getting sadder by the minute, but something happened. Just as she bent to serve her father-in-law, a faintest of farts escaped her. She was elated! She rushed to the well and jumped. She died instantly. Yama’s aides were waiting for her. They escorted her to Indra’s court. Before Indra could ask, the girl putting on a great show of shame and grief told Indra why she had committed suicide at such a young age. He sent for Vayu. His guards returned with the news that Vayu was hospitalized with high fever and inexplicable but severe injuries to his whole body. Indra arranged to visit him with his retinue accompanying him and the girl. Vayu looked very badly hurt. Indra, moved to pity restored Vayu to some semblance of health and asked him what the reason was for breaching his trust.

Vayu sat up with difficulty and told Indra how the girl had coerced him. He told how he had resisted, pointing to his wounds and sobbed uncontrollably. Indra put his hand on Vayu and restored him to full health. They returned to court. He called in Kuber and fired an angry order, “Go at once and fashion ornaments in lead and iron. Don’t waste time designing things of beauty. A token embellishment would do fine!”

When heavy ornaments in lead and iron were brought to court and the girl bedecked with them, Indra said, “Go now back to mortality and toil there till such a time as death does not relieve you!” Quietly Indra’s guard accompanied the girl, deep into the cold waters of the well in the village.

Indra revoked the orders given to Vayu and said, Vayu, my dear friend and ally; I am pleased with your devotion. From today you are free to inflict any stomach that you deem worthy of your grace!” Vayu smiled at his Divine master. He saluted Indra and took his leave.

STORY COLLECTED BY: Charudatta Prabhudesai
STORY TOLD BY- Heard from the locals
LOCATION: Goa
IMAGE DETAILS: Wikipedia

June 1, 2015by admin
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