God within - Theyyam. Kannur. India

Theyyam (or Thira) is a popular ritual form of worship of North Malabar in Kerala, India, predominant in the Kolathunadu area as a living cult with several thousand-year-old traditions, rituals and customs. The performers of Theyyam belong to the lower class community, and have an important position in Theyyam. People of these districts consider Theyyam itself as a God and they seek blessings from this Theyyam. The invocation is generally performed in front of the village Shrine. It is also performed in the houses as ancestor-worship with elaborate rites and rituals.

Tears profusely gushed down my face as I battled to watch Goddess Annapoorneshwari‘s captivating invocation at a tucked away shrine in Azhikode. I had heard about Theyyam just a month back only to find myself amidst meticulously clad avatars of God.

Before this I had not even visited the green and thickly cultured side of Kerala and hence, Kannur was my first experience in many ways. I took my own time to absorb the atmosphere; I couldn’t get what all the huff-puff was about? What was it about the Theyyam stories and invoking God within oneself? Why was only a particular sect of the community allowed to don the role of a God? By the time I reached the Ram temple of Andaloor, where a gathering of possibly 3-4 village folks increased my curiosity and the list of questions? It slowly unfurled as the noon turned into evening and the temple turned into spectacle – in the eyes of worshippers, in their body language, in their hope and prayers, in their togetherness, in the eyes of the man who was going to turn in to God soon, in his body language, in his hope and prayers. It seemed like what was holding them together was what they had been through. Getting groped by a crowd full of hairy men, clad in their vests and mundus, wasn’t the kind of first-time experience I expected to add to my list. What I did add though was the sight and change in air with the entry of the man who donned the avatar of God Ram. 

I had never understood devotion; I thought like love, it is blind, blind faith, blind expectations and blind logics. My list got added as one after another, our Auto-man, Aari, informed us about possible Theyyams happening around the town. And then I finally reached the shrine at Azhikode. I think I still haven’t understood devotion but besides witness it in abundance something did stir in me, some voice did speak to me, some touch did awaken me and I looked around. All around I could only see God Annapoorneshwari’s invocation and her presence, in a man who transformed himself to the Goddess, the Goddess who transformed people’s lives even if it meant for a bit. And when she touched my forehead to tell me “I had got nothing to worry, it will all happen in good time” she transformed my list of first time experiences into list of blind faith, expectation, logic and devotion. 

In Theyyam I saw how a man took on the role of Goddesses to bear the pain a woman does and to share back the strength she provides to us and yet, for those moments when her man is has God within, she shrinks and awaits for him to return, just as I do to build my list. Again.

Just. Rust & Dust - Saurashtra. Gujarat.

Saurashtra or Kathiawar, the southwestern part of Gujarat includes the districts of Rajkot, Junagadh, Bhavnagar, Porbandar, Jamnagar, Amreli, Surendranagar, and some portions of Ahmedabad. This peninsula is shared with the Kachchh region. The territory of Saurashtra, including that of the former kingdom of Sorath or Junagadh, is now part of the state of Gujarat.

 “Where is vhau (daughter-in-law)?” ask 74 year old Prem Ba, mother of our neighbor-and-relative, Harishbhai. I smile and respond, “all is well Ba, how are you?” 

Every time I go to my village, Daltungi, I feel and realise the essence of small, minute things and rituals, which in modern world are referred as formalities. Time seems to flow smoothly as early morning slips into late, then into a peaceful afternoon, where it feels the entire village becomes a single home and everyone takes rest. The noon awakens with smell of boiling tea with condiments that add flavor to a typical Gujarati or dare I say, a Kachchi tea. 

The evening with its soft tone color shades transforms into a night where stars are visible, shining. My mother and I made it a ritual to walk 5 kms towards the closest railway station, Modhpur, passing fields of cotton on both sides and invariably bumping into habitants who offered us glass of fresh milk by milking the buffalo right there. Small things continue to impact me, this time through the measure of a glass – a saucer, which is a distinct unit of measure for teas and milks across the tea-milk stalls. We drove across the dry land into the land of Krishna - Dwarka, Beth Dwarka, then to the historic Somnath temple, the Gir Forest and eventually the Junagadh pilgrimage where climbing 9, 999 steps barefoot was more an adventure than to worship the Jain temples, Devis and God Dattatrey. Poor Narubhai and Haribhai were dragged in too, but they couldn’t thank me enough for the experience and especially for their memorabilia – picture with a foreign lady. The lions at Gir forest didn’t disappoint me considering that we had only half and hour with us to visit them. A marriage night aint a small thing for any family and witnessing celebrations on the night before marriage was even satisfying to watch how simple it is to celebrate. 

I visited my village only the previous year after a gap of 20 years and yet, my connect with its soil, memories and culture came rushing to me and hugged me tight and close. A hug, after all, is a small thing, a small start to any relationship.

Immersed in Faith - Mahakumbh. Illahabad.

Kumbh Mela is a mass Hindu pilgrimage of faith in which Hindus gather to bathe in a sacred river. The account goes that the Devas had lost their strength by the curse of Durväsä Muni. After praying to Lord Vishnu, he instructed them to churn the ocean of milk Ksheera Sagara (primordial ocean of milk) to receive amrita (the nectar of immortality). They made a temporary agreement with their archenemies, the Asuras, to work together with a promise of sharing the wealth equally. But, when the Kumbha (urn) containing the amrita appeared, a fight ensued. in the sky for the pot of amrita. It is believed that during the battle, Lord Vishnu (incarnated as Mohini-Mürti) flew away with the Kumbha of elixir spilling drops of amrita at four places: Allahabad (Prayag), Haridwar, Ujjain and Nashik.

​​Kumbh Mela is a mass Hindu pilgrimage of faith in which Hindus gather to bathe in a sacred river. That's all I knew courtesy Wikipedia until I reached after a 46-hour journey to the soil of heritage, in Prayag.

Still holding all my luggage to myself, I almost collapsed as I touched the soil of Kumbh. I still have no answer why I felt so overwhelmed then. The vastness through which the mela was spread across 31 kms and 14 sectors put wheels on my legs and I walked every inch in the span of 3 days, watching late night leelas, chatting up with Ajit Kumar from the RSF, wandering through day & night in a quest to experience something I never had. I even spotted the neatly organized Post Box office from where I put our IPS to test, my dear friend received my letter after 4 weeks and was overjoyed, even more than me. When people inevitably asked the question - how was it? I could only answer "very revealing" all the time. I witnessed spirituality in its true sense, which had nothing to do with God. There was an unmistakable air though, during my short tenure of 3 days – the air of belief – in the power that connected everyone, in fellow human beings who chose a different path than you, in the mythology that we have only heard time & again, different versions each time.

It was beyond me how from thousands to millions of people carried this same belief, not only in Kumbh but in the city of Illahabad. And to find that belief intact in one piece, was an experience that still gives me the shudders. It was also a good chance to see and experience what I had only heard so far of naga babas, and sadhus and aghoris, happily blowing away their chillams and making a buck or two offering it to you if they liked you. I didn’t need to drag myself out of the Mela to catch my late noon train to Bombay. The official caught hold of my collar since I was a nuisance clicking people’s emotional rituals on the banks of Ganges. 

As I was politely asked to leave, I couldn’t ask for a better exit to watch a procession head to the banks. I don’t know why even though a lot of it looked staged, some part of me had already joined the belief.