Belief Systems in India: The Perpetually Post-modern Macrocosm

Belief Systems in India: The Perpetually Post-modern Macrocosm

The endless definitions, descriptions and epithets for the Indian cultural as well as religious experience have all found their negation given the baffling diversity that has emerged out of our unique experience of dynamics. If the anti-colonial as well as immediate post-colonial mainstream refrain was of ‘unity in diversity’, it then moved to the descriptions of ‘mosaic’ (like under the ‘People of India’ project of Anthropological Survey of India in the 1980s). One term that was much (ab)used to show the co-existence was ‘tolerance’ on the part of an arbitrarily defined mainstream. But then, the endless ethnic clashes including caste based massacres and expressions of communal hatred brought forth the fact that not all here is about any one group’s magnanimity. It is perhaps an endless series of expressions and counter-expressions in the realm of culture, where the dominant and the marginal co-exist. The hegemony of one does not always mean the others moving into oblivion. The continuity and perpetuations always get reinvigorated or at times complemented by new trends, which can range from the destructive to disruptive to the innovative or at times, integrative.

But then, this very pluralism is the raison d’etre for the continuity of the multi-faceted tradition. Be it the concept of ‘ neti’ (this is not the ultimate truth) in classical Sanskritic tradition, the belief in ‘ekam sad, vipram bahudha vadanthi’ (the scholars interpret the same ultimate truth in different ways) under the Vedantic knowledge, the heterodox sections of institutional religions like Islam and Christianity or the simple experience of inter-faith folk and local shrines, even the best of the demagogues and ideologues have to realise-we can just agree to disagree. Indeed, what the Western World has seen as the post-modern in terms of critique of the monolithic definition of ‘rational’ and the respect for difference, could be traced in India to the most ancient times. It is perhaps a salutation to the collective unconscious of each group as well as individual that we could accept this multiplicity which may well have been discounted as chaos in many other regions.

The blending or the elite and the popular in most expressions of belief is not something unique to India. Indeed it was way back in the 1950s that the anthropologist Robert Redfield had expressed the working of the complementary forces of universalisation and parochialization during his studies in the American continent. If the first paved the way for a classical elite tradition to be disseminated to all the smaller traditions, the other was the counter force that made the universal classical tradition to adapt and adjust to the immediate cultural and belief context of the local tradition. Such syncretic forces however did not have to wait for the large spread of religions from the Fertile Crescent in India. Syncretism has been the hallmark in most of the belief, scientific or aesthetic expressions of India. If the Agamic tradition shows balance of folk, perceived heretic tradition and the classical, even scientific treatises like Varahmihir’s Brihatsamhita discuss the omens and temple architecture and sculpture traditions along side the discussions on astronomy. Bhakti traditions have found their own unique expressions which have a syncretic as well as differentiating manifestation. The dynamics of the beliefs is perhaps best seen in practices under various popular traditions than in the philosophy. Ritual perhaps is the best reflection of the spiritual. That is why even the best of universalistic impositions and the most boisterous of the glitz of designer religions and their couture lines have not been able to completely efface the multiplicity of belief systems.

The outstanding example of the dynamics of belief system interactions is perhaps the existence of communities like Ramdev Pirs who follow both Hindu and Islamic traditions. But such examples are not the only expressions. The clash and collaboration between faiths can be found in most endogenous traditions. One much discussed among the same would perhaps be the clash of the Smarthas and the Vaisnavas. Be it the clash of the ideologies (one of the first being the countering of Sankara’s Advaita by Ramanuja’s Visistadvaita) or the clash of cults and sects (like the antagonism between the Sankara and the Sri Vaisnava order or the clashes between the Bairagis of Ramanandi tradition and the Naga sects who are associated with Sankara’s tradition), they have all shaped much of our need to retain and express our unique identity. Hence being a Vaisnava Iyengar is not merely about following an ideology or mode of worship but is also about having a unique cuisine and a host of unique cultural expressions that would differentiate them from the Smartha Iyer.

The need to assert the uniqueness could take different forms, like the Vaisnavas in Coastal Andhra worshipping Vishnu’s chief lieutenant, Visvaksena during the Ganesa festival or the Ligayats in AP, Karnataka and Maharashtra going in for burial of the dead rather than cremation. The same dynamics is perhaps reflected in Islam of India, where the one time heterodox Sufism has been the force for its rapid spread. A belief that was rejected in the land of its origin due to its incompatibility with the predominant expressions of the faith became the most potent expression of Islamic traditions in South Asia. India also has a good presence of the minority Ahmediya sect that has seen its persecution almost all round the Islamic world. Perhaps the best example of the indigenous expression of Islam is the adaptations to practices like matrilineal systems among the Mappilas and the acceptance of caste order among most Muslim communities. That however does not mean that the more puritan as well as liberal traditions are lacking. Ahmedias co-exist with the Wahabis and the traditional schools of practice vie with the other interpretations. The devotional fervour towards symbols like Alam among Shiites flies in the face of all the claims of Islam being averse to diversity. The co-existence of Namdharis and Nirankaris along with the Akalis Sikhs is a similar reminder of our endless capacity to maintain our unique identity.

The differences have also been countered by the universalistic forces, and much of the unification under one umbrella has been the work of the predominantly mainstream elitist forces. The unification of most of the Vaisnava traditions in the four Schools-Sri (including the Ramanuja tradition which itself draws its line from the 12 Azhwars), Brahma (including Madhva and Gaudiya schools), Rudra (the Pushtimarga of Vallabh) and Sanak-Sanandan (Nimbarka’s order, which includes the poet Jaideva) is one such effort. Similarly, the Tantric orders of all six Deva traditions present a unique blend of folk magico-religious practices, rituals of non-mainstream ritualists and the Sanskritic Agamic traditions, which purportedly emerge directly from the Nigam or Vedic religious practice. However, even such efforts have not been able to undermine the unique expressions. Much of the cults and orders that emerged beyond the four-fold Vaisnavism (including the Ekkhoron Nama Dharma of Srimant Sankardev in Assam and the Ramanandi Srivaisnavism in Central North India) have found their unique place and have led to unique expressions like the famous Satriya tradition in Assam, the beautiful lyrics of Hitaharivansha tradition in the Braj region or the Sakhi tradition of Krishna worship. Under Saivism, the linkages that have been established by Classical scholars between the Saivasiddhantha and Kashmiri Saivism do not come to obstruct the unique cultural expressions of the traditions in the two regions. Even those shrines and deities that have been metamorphosed to universal icons from local traditions (like Sitala, the Goddess of smallpox in most of Northern and Eastern India) have retained their own local symbols and ritual practices.

The encounter of belief in India is an experience and with our limited perceptual abilities each of us draws their unique interpretations. To some of us the difference also means a lot of contradiction and conflicts, making us aspire for a clear line of community belief. It is perhaps such line of thought that has led some of us to side with the hegemonic expressions for universalisation. But time and again, each of these efforts has seen its limitations. This of course does not mean that new ideas or beliefs or any past reinterpretations should be seen only with cynicism. It is the readiness for acceptance of any new expression of faith or belief that makes us so adjusted to differences and ambiguity. And it is this spirit that has made us look beyond even the worst of communal clashes. Faith will always have its own new interpretations and expressions, for there is no end to the search for ultimate truth. As Goswami Tulasidas has said:

So janahu jehi dehu janai, Janahi tumahi, tumahi ho jai.

(‘You (God) can be understood only by the person to whom You reveal Yourself-and once anyone knows you, that person becomes You’).

So this search for truth will go on until every Nara (human) finds Narayana (God).

The Downpour of Festivities

The Downpour of Festivities

Living as a metaphor of cyclical time gives special meaning to seasons in Indian aesthetics. The seasonal cycle asserts the principle of continuity and sequntiality-so significant for survival in the midst of change. The hope of rejuvenation and perpetuation of life inspire a sense of acceptance rather than annoyance for the changing seasons. The hope and acceptance is perhaps best reflected in the myriad views we have about the rainy reason. Described as the de facto spring of the predominantly agrarian society by Prof. A.L. Basham, the rainy season spanning the four months of monsoon activity heralds a cornucopia of emotions and expressions. In a tradition that finds divinity in everything, the disparate sentiments of awe, admiration, fear and gratitude merge in celebrations all around India.

The reveling in this enchanting song from the lyre of the world (as Tagore may have called it) takes different hues based not just on the diversity of region but also of purpose. On the basis of purpose, the first prominent group of festivals expresses the hopes of fertility. Second group of festivals focus on rising above the feelings of uncertainty coming in the wake of the season and the last relates to adjusting with the adjustment with the period of inaction due to rains. While the first group of festivals is best reflected in the folk spirit, the last is generally confined of classical elitism. The chasm of purpose however does not dampen the spirit of celebrations. The folk-classical continuum blends the celebrations of the masses.

The celebration of fertility is perhaps the hallmark of the rainy season festivals. Most festivals in the season herald the incipient rejuvenation, which culminates in full fledged celebrations of fertility with the arrival of mild winters (Sharada in the classical tradition). The celebrations begin as a precursor to the rabi season, by honouring the Earth Goddess. Be it the Ambubachi or Ambuvachi of Bengal and Assam or the Raja Parba of Orissa, the focus is on venerating the earth before her fertility is exploited by agriculturists. As a mark of respect for Mother Earth, the folks do not ‘touch’ or ‘hurt’ Her by walking barefoot or lighting the hearth. The veneration of divine fertility reaches the zenith at the Kamakhya Temple on Assam where both folk and Sanskritic streams find a confluence under the aegis of Agamic traditions. The festival at the temple draws devotees from all over who wait for the reopening of the temple after three days of closing to herald the phase of fecundity. A similar fertility refrain is there in the festival of Lai Haraoba in Manipur which dates back to the Pre-Vaisnava days of the state. Beginning at the onset of summers, the festival continues for four months with enactment of myths and rituals of divine creation by special ritual experts, culminating during the rainy season. Even the overwhelming spirit of Gaudiya Vaisnavism in the Manipur valley has not been able to diminish the significance of Lai Haraoba for the mainstream Meitei community of the Manipur valley.

The restrictions and uncertainties that come with the onset of monsoon lead to unique coping mechanisms. For the classical tradition, the coping starts with dealing with the inaction and isolation especially for those in the ascetic order. The solution has been found in the observance of four months of stay at one place and contemplation (better known as chaturmasa). On the more worldly side, Harishayani Ekadashi which marks the beginning of the four month rainy season, is observed as the beginning of the four month resting period for gods, especially in the Vaisnava tradition. The priests then concentrate on the propitiation of Shiva during the following month of Shravan. Another important festival in the Sanskritic stream is the Guru Purnima, where the disciples traditionally used to offer gifts to their Guru. The festival may have lost its fervour with the ubiquitous modern educational system but the vestiges survive in areas of classical music and dance where the Guru-Shishya tradition is still alive.

In the folk aspect the coping assumed new dimensions-they relate to the adjustments with being away from loved ones and adjusting to the challenges of the rains. From the plains of the North to Tamil Nadu, the months of the rain are marked by the return of married daughters to their father’s home in many regions. This period of separation from the spouse on the one hand and reunion with the family of orientation for the married women on the other finds many customs and rituals associated with it. It includes the special celebrations for the women, including customary recital of folk songs and laying of swings. The men on the other hand often shun any shaving or bodily decorations or comfort for the month of Shravan. The coping also extends to deal with contingencies of the rainy season including managing the resources need for agriculture and home. It also means being prepared for the impact of drought or floods. The answer to coping with contingencies is found in fairs prior to onset of heavy rains-which help people stock for the rainy season. A plethora of magico-religious performances ranging from the mimetic magic practices of the tribal groups to the Sanskritic sacrifices for rains deal with the anxieties.

One major group festivals that reflects the unique blend between aspirations of fertility and the anxieties of the rain relates to snake worship. As a creature that can move without limbs and slide into subterranean zones full of mythical wealth, the snake is eulogized as the custodian of wealth. The enigmatic nature of its existence and its association with hidden regions even above the ground makes it a unique symbol capable of giving the boons of fertility. To complement the sentiment, the power of its venom makes it an object of awe especially with the rise of incidents of snake bite due to the tilling of the soil and the better proposition for thee snake to hide above the ground due to the resurgence in greenery. Festivals like Mansa Puja in Bengal and Naga Panchami in Northern, Central, Western parts of India, apart from some regions in the South (particularly Kerala). With the popularity of the snake shrines in traditional Nair tharawads (households), snake worship has a cult status, with the presence of snake icons especially of the divine serpent Anantha (also known as Sesha) in many households. At even more classical level, the Naga Vasuki temple at Prayag becomes a major draw of pilgrims on the occasion of Naga Panchami, where this predominantly folk festival gets its swig of the Sanskritic tradition.

The coping with contingencies is often a feminised phenomenon in most patriarchal societies, with India being no exception. In most of the above festivals, women have a major role to play. Mansa Puja in Bengal is basically a female affair. Indeed, even the ritual experts for snake worship in Kerala are sometimes women. The special festivals of married women to pray for the long life of their husbands and the welfare of their household are found both in the North and the South. Among this genre of festivals is the major tourist draw of Rajasthan-Teej, marked by over 24 hours of fasting apart from lot of purchase of jewellery and clothes and with special processions to mark the divine love of Shiva and Parvati. In the South the Varalakshmi Vratham is a similar occasion of fasting and praying for the welfare of the family. The unmarried girls have their own share of folk festivals which apart form Naga Panchami includes the commencement for the preparation for the worship of Goddess Sanjhi in Central North India, which finally commences during the fortnight of ancestors.

The festivals of rainy season are not just confined to folk stream and there are mainstream religious celebrations especially in form of various major congregations. The first important congregation is the Ratha Yatra of Jaganath Puri. In much of Eastern, Central and Southern India there are similar Jatras and celebrations associated with major temples. One significant one among them is the famous Palkhi procession of the Varkari tradition that culminates with a huge congregation at Pandharpur in Maharashtra. Equally significant is the pilgrimage during Shravan to the Baidyanath Dham in Deoghar (now in Jharkhand). As one of the putative sites of Baidyanath jyotirlinga (the twelve sites with a special ‘essence’ of Shiva), it becomes a major congregation where the pilgrims are conspicuous with their orange/ochre attire. The biggest festival in the religious realm is perhaps the celebration of the birth of Krishna on Janmashtami or Gokulashtami. The festival of Ganesha that follows about 10 days after Janmashtami is celebrated with religious fervour not just in the South and in Maharashtra but has its own unique form in the North-where it si known for the throwing of stones on other persons’ roof as a means to get away form the curse of viewing the moon on the day of the festival. In much of Central North India Ganesha Chaturthi is known as Dhela Chauth.

The rainy season heralds the biggest festival of Kerala-Onam, to mark the return of the mythical king of the land, Bali to know the welfare of his people. The 10 day festival is marked by not just celebrations inside of the house with special rituals and feasts but its public expressions in form of boat race and dances has now made Kerala and essential part of the tourist itinerary during the otherwise lean tourist months of monsoon.

The list of celebrations is endless and it is hard to capture a glimpse of all in a mere article. But it is this endlessness of celebrations that makes India a land of constant intrigue, enjoyment and celebration. As proverbs in many languages say, India is a land where there are eight festivals in seven days of a week.