Sapno Ki Sarhad, Koi Nahi!
Aankhon Ko Visa Nahi Lagtaa
Sapno Ki Sarhad Hoti Nahi
Band Aankhon Se Roz Main Sarhad Paar Chalaa Jaata Hun Milne
‘Mehadi Hasan’ Se!
Sunta Hoon Unki Aawaaz Ko Chot Lagi Hai
Aur Ghazal Khamosh Hai Saamne Baiti Huyi
Kaamp Rahey Hai Hont Ghazal Ke!
Fir Bhi Unn Aankon Ka Lahjaa Badlaa Nahi
Jab Woh Kehatey Hai…
Sookh Gaye Hai Phool Khitaabon Mein
Yaar ‘Faraaz’ Bhi Bichad Gaye Hai, Shayad Miley Woh Khwaabon Mein!
Band Aankhon Se Aksar Sarhad Paar Chalaa Jaata Hoon Main!
Aankhon Ko Visa Nahi Lagta
Sapno Ki Sarhad, Koi Nahi!
- Sampoorn Singh ‘Gulzaar’
Doctor And Patient
As always, i walked all alone into that department. I sat before that cabin which knows me from the past seven years. I looked at the cabin door and saw something missing over there. Yes, it was the name plate! Could it have fallen? or did she quit the organization?- I asked myself and rushed towards the board which displayed the names of all the doctors in that department. I scanned the list twice and nowhere could i see the name. I asked the nurse and got the answer, “She resigned around two months ago.” I stood still there and looked at the display board again. NO, the name Dr. Hema Tharoor was not in the list. She had quit the organization.
Dr. Tharoor has been my psychiatrist from the last seven years. Who has seen me and my twisted mind over the years. I don’t see myself improving or rather being cured but still constant visits to Dr. Tharoor has been one of the reasons which has kept me going over the years. Even when i kept visiting her i knew i would never get ‘cured’ for i knew that the problem was not with the mind or the brain but with the very existence. It has been an existential problem. But still i kept visiting her, during troubled times, just because my heart had come to believe that she understood my state.
As i walked back from the hospital, i knew and also deeply felt that i had lost someone very precious who i would miss for ages to come. My eyes swelled. A lump in my throat. Emptiness in my heart. As i walked i remembered G. Krishnamurthy Bhat, about whom i had mentioned to Dr. Tharoor in one of my very first meetings (counseling session) with her.
My story with Mr. Bhat dates back to 2002-03, a few months before my tryst with Dr. Tharoor. Those were the days when i spent most of time with my psychology teacher and reading quite a bit of psychology, in order to understand human psychology and more importantly to understand myself as i was a mystery to myself. And once when i told my teacher about the immortal loneliness within me she said, “You need someone who will understand you in your intensity.” This line lived within me and my search for a person, be it in the form of a friend or a lover, began.
I was a member of the Nehru Memorial Library in Manipal those days. I would randomly pick up some book and borrow it. As i keep telling some of my friends, i never chase titles or authors, i chase ideas. I kept taking random books across genre. Within a few months i noticed something. Most of the books that i was borrowing had written on them on the very first page, “Donated by G. Krishnamurthy Bhat.” I thought the person must have donated quite a lot of books hence i keep chancing on books that he has donated. Even the next couple of books which i chose impulsively and randomly were donated by Mr. Bhat and one evening it struck to me that if Mr. Bhat donated these books, he must have read them. If not then he must have at least have had interest in those ideas. That evening i felt here was a man whose thoughts and ideas were matching with mine. Now i wanted to meet this man and speak to him and make myself understood in the same intensity.
I asked the librarian who Mr. Bhat was. “He is a mad man,” came the reply. I was stunned. “Why do you need that man?” the librarian shot back at me. How could i tell him about my immortal loneliness and need to find a person who would understand me in my intensity? “Most of the books that i have been borrowing have been donated by him. So i thought he must be having an excellent collection at home,” i said. “No no. He has nothing left at his place. He donated all his books to us and the very next day he came here and demanded that we return his books. He is mad. He had lost his mental balance,” the librarian said. “Do you have his address?” i asked. “No. But our cleaner would know because had gone to his place to bring the books,” came the answer. “Where is the cleaner?” “He is on leave today. Come tomorrow.” Pause. “But Sir, why do you need that mad man?” I smile and leave the place.
“That was some ten fifteen years ago. Now that place has developed and i cant say where exactly that house stands,” the cleaner said the next day. “Which area?” I wouldn’t leave. “You have to take a right turn from Kalsanka. Before Doddandagudde you will get his house,” the cleaner recollected from his memory and informed.
In a week i took my scooty and traveled that area asking every Tom Dick and Harry if they knew G. Krishnamurthy Bhat. No, nobody knew. They would ask me, what he did or how he looked, to which i did not have any answer. I came back home being disappointed. And as i was lying on the bed i felt i should ask Muralidhar Upadhyay Sir if he knew Mr. Bhat. Muralidhar Sir lives in Doddanagudde and has a good taste of literature and philosophy. So i thought Mr. Bhat must have crossed paths sometime with Muralidhar Sir. I rang up Sir immediately. “Yeah i remember this man. But i haven’t met him in the last few years. He was a close friend of Jayavanth. Go meet Jayavanth at his shop in Udupi car street,” Sir said.
Introducing myself to Jayavanth i asked if he knew where i could meet Mr. Bhat. “Why do you need to meet him?” asked Jayavanth. For some reason i felt quite comfortable in the company of Jayavanth Sir and decided to tell him why i wanted to meet Mr. Bhat. Listening to me patiently he said, “He is not in a position to meet anyone these days. His family has locked him up in a room and does not let anyone meet him.” I was disappointed but did not leave the place. I stood there. After a while Jayavanth said, “Come after a week. I too haven’t met him in a long time. I will ask his family members if we can meet him.” Overjoyed by the progress i came home.
When i went to Jayavanth after a week i had no positive answer. Mr. Bhat’s family was not willing to unlock him from the room and let anyone meet him. “They say he has become very violent these days,” Jayavanth said. I, silently, walked out of Jayavanth’s shop carrying the immortal loneliness that my heart has sheltered from the time i have known myself.
Yesterday, as i walked back from the hospital, not finding Dr. Tharoor there, i remembered the evening when i had walked back from Jayavanth’s shop, getting to know that i will not be able to meet Mr. Bhat. I knew that in terms of ‘cure’ i had not benefited anything from Dr. Tharoor. But i had a feeling that she understood my immortal loneliness and my melancholy in its intensity. I knew Mr. Bhat was a patient himself. But i hoped to meet, in him, a friend who would understand me in my intensity.
One Basavaraju, nearly a year ago, writing about P. Lankesh in a magazine recollected an interesting incident. It seems Lankesh Sir was diabetic but still wouldn’t stop consuming sweets. He would eat various kinds of sweets and then check his ’sugar level’ calculating which sweet causes rise of sugar level at which level. Bsaravaraju once asked Lankesh Sir not to experiment with himself warning him of negative consequences. “Are you a doctor?” roared Lankesh Sir. Bsavaraju stood silent. The question came again. “No,” said Basavaraju. “Are you a patient?” asked Lankesh Sir. “No,” said Basavaraju again. It appears like Lankesh Sir was of the belief that only a doctor and a patient can understand the problems of a patient. The rest, however concerned they are, cannot understand the problem in its intensity.
Siddhi Community
Foreword
Intending to do ‘field work’ for a documentary film on the Siddhi community, on 28, 29 and 30 of December 2009, friends Manjunath Bhat, Shishira K.V., Shrisha Bhat, Vijay Kumar and I travelled quite a bit in and around Manchikere and Yellapura meeting Siddhi people and people who have been working and interacting with the Siddhi community in those areas.
Those three days were memorable not because we managed to do the required ‘field work’ nor for the unexpected rain which added a different charm to our travel in the forest areas and on the mud roads or for the no-internet and no-mobile network area which made life more peaceful. Those three days were memorable because it opened a new world before us- A world which unfolded before us in fragments, though not completely, to reveal the complexities of life and also the struggles of life.
What that world taught me is something which I am yet to understand completely because that world is still unfolding within me. Hence I am writing down only about the things that I saw, the words, silence and music that I heard and not what I saw through it, though my teacher and senior friend Rahmat Tarikere insisted that I write about it, following my discussion about the same with him. May be I can write of it sometime later, after couple of more visits and more intense interaction with the Siddhi people.
So here I have sincerely attempted to write just a report, quite a lengthy one though, on what I along with my friends saw and heard in the three days with the Siddhi people.
B.A. Samvartha
05 January 10
Manipal
Remembrance and Forgetfulness
“I don’t remember the complete song. Possibly Kusuma (Siddhi) would remember,” said G.T. Bhat, former Head Master of Rajarajeshwari High School, Manchikere (Uttar Kannada district, Karnataka). The two lines that G.T. Bhat recollected from his memory were:
Devancha naaun kaadun-nakago
Avvancha naaun kaadun-nakago
The lines were like a double edged sword. It meant, “Do not spoil/erase the name of the God, Do not spoil/erase the name of the mother,” and it also meant “Do not take the name of the God. Do not take the name of the mother.” The two possible meanings appeared to have two opposing meanings. The earlier wants to remember the creator (God and mother) while the latter silently, by asking not to bring up the matter, suggests the loss of memory regarding the creator (God and mother) and hence tries to avoid the issue of the creator (God and mother)
As the flickering flame of the kerosene lamp threw light and shadow on us, Kusuma, at he place near G.T. Bhat’s house, sang the Pugudi song (A Siddhi folk song). As silence was settling down after the song G.T. Bhat broke the silence with his voice saying, “There were these lines saying Devancha naaun and Avvancha naaun too isn’t it?” To this, politely and honestly, Kusuma said, “Yes. But you see even we don’t remember these songs completely nowadays.” She added to it, “There are so many things that we have forgotten and so many things that have got erased.”
The two lines that G.T. Bhat and which Kusuma couldn’t recollect, at once and at the same time, reflected the struggle between remembrance and forgetfulness. This remembrance and forgetfulness were in reference to the God and mother- who are the roots of existence. The demand, in the womb of the song, to remember the creator and the demand, again in the womb of the song, not to bring up the issue of the creator (dreading the exposure of forgetfulness?) both reflect the partial memory and partial forgetfulness. The song being partially remembered and partially forgotten by G.T. Bhat and Kusuma Siddhi reflects the partial memory and partial forgetfulness of the Siddhi roots both in the Siddhi collective memory and that of the world outside or the non-Siddhi world.
“Uprooted from its own soil and replanted in an alien soil.”
Few kilometers away from Manchikere is Kodse, a village where quite a few Siddhi families reside. One of them is Kalaar Siddhi. When asked to narrate some folk tales of the Siddhi community, Kalaar Siddhi asked if we knew Marathi. When we said we don’t, she said, “Most of our tales and songs are in Marathi. Our language is a mixture of Konkani and Marathi. We don’t speak Kannada though we live in a Kannada speaking area.” This statement of Kalaar Siddhi tempted us to ask her about the ‘roots’ of their community.
When asked, Kalaar Siddhi said that their forefathers, centuries ago, lived on the “other side of Dubai” in a country named “African.” The forefathers came to India “in search of work” for livelihood with “Two Hindus” in a “Lorry.” The Hindus went back leaving behind her forefathers; she said and added to it, “Our forefathers couldn’t go back as they did not have the passport to gave back, so they stayed back in India.”
A similar myth, of Siddhi people coming to India from Africa in a “lorry”, was presented before Chidambara Rao Jambe, who 25 years ago (1984) staged a play based on Chinua Achebe’s novel Things Fall Apart, with Siddhi actors at Manchikere.
Though the same myth continues to exist among some Siddhi people, after the world noticed the Siddhi community, following the staging of the play Kappu Janaa Kempu Neralu by C.R. Jambe, based on the novel Things Fall Apart, the intervention of many researchers and Government officials into the Siddhi world seem to have given a different angel to their perception of their history.
A neighbor of Kalaar Siddhi said that a team of researchers that came from Africa, couple of yeas ago, told them about a village named Abasi in Africa and a temple there named Siddhi Nyaas, which could have been the original place of the Siddhi people. Her belief in this is further strengthened by the folk song she has been hearing since her childhood which sings: “Abasiyella Bagabaindu Kaisa Chembela…” to mean “Men from Abasi have come down, do you know how they look?”
Winner of the Konkani Academy Award of the year 2001, Mingel Siddhi, tracing the Marathi elements in the language the Siddhi people speak, said that he if of the belief that the Siddhi people were “parceled” to Maharashtra from Africa. He in a tone of concern said, “People here did not have people who could do manual work, so they got us here,” and says that these “parceled” people later migrated to the Uttar Kannada district of Karnataka.
Lawrence Siddhi and John Siddhi of Yellapura say that the Siddhi people were brought to India from Africa by the Portuguese to Goa, for the purpose of “massage” some “400 years ago”. “Later when the battle between the British and the Portuguese broke, the Siddhi people migrated within India and reached the Uttar Kannada district in Karnataka.
Rahmat Tarikere mentions of the Siddhi army in the Bijapur and Bidar area by the Adil Shahi kings. These soldiers later, ran into the forests of the Western Ghats to liberate themselves from the Kings, opines Rahmat Taikere. So, it appears that not all the Siddhi people in the Uttar Kannada district of Karnataka have migrated from Goa and Maharashtra seeking liberation from the Portuguese and the Bristish. Rahmat also opines that the Muslim Siddhis found in the Uttar Kannada region could be the descendants the soldiers who “ran away” from the Adil Shahis.
Ramakishna Bhat alias Dundi Bhat, remembering the belief of K.V. Subbanna that the Siddhi people originally belonged to Moroco in Africa said “One thing of which we can be sure is that they are like a plant which has been uprooted from its own soil and then replanted in an alien soil.”
Culture and Religion
The Muslim Siddhi, who Rahmat Tarikere believes to have migrated from the Adil Shahis, is believed, by Hindu and Chistian Siddhi and also by the non-Siddhi people in the district, to have not “opened up” with the outside world much. But still the Muslim Siddhi does share the common identity of being Siddhi.
One can find, in the district of Uttar Kannada, Hindu Siddhi, Muslim Siddhi and Christian Siddhi. The religious identity can be seen as a prefix to the Siddhi identity or the Siddhi identity can be seen as an affix to the religious identity, but it appears like two identities are operating parallely here.
John Siddhi of Yellapura states that when the Siddhi people migrated to the U.K. district, they needed “shelter” and when they found a shelter they adopted the religion of the master. But, Siddhi people, despite of the religion they have “chosen” have continued the rituals such as ‘nema’ and ‘rock worship’ which is a Siddhi culture basically. When asked if the rituals do not clash against each other with the religious rituals he answers politely, “Culture is different and religion is different.”
Lawrence Siddhi mentions about the marriages that take place between the Hindu Siddhi and Muslim Siddhi, Muslim Siddhi and Chrstian Siddhi, Christian Siddhi and Hindu Siddhi. There exists a “healthy give and take relationship” amongst the Siddhi people, said Lawrence Siddhi.
But do the non-Siddhi Hindu Muslims and Christians share the same kind of relationship with the Siddhi people? “No,” says Lawrence Siddhi and John Siddhi. But he mentions of some exceptions and states that the “religious set up” doesn’t approve of such marriages indicating the non-equal status of the Siddhi people within any religion.
“No Religion, No Freedom”
Parashuram Siddhi, who played the role of Okonkwo in the play directed by C.R. Jambe 25 years ago makes the statement, “Originally Siddhi people had no religion nor they have had any freedom.”
“We (Siddhi) are treated like equals only in the Churches and the Mosques but not outside,” said John Siddhi. “The Hindu Siddhi people are not allowed to enter the temple,” said Gopal Siddhi.
But the Havyaka Brahmins who are the land lords in the U.K. districts claim to have “well treated” the Siddhi people. “We have never treated the Siddhi people as untouchables,” declares Dundi Bhat and so does G.T. Bhat who further adds, “We would not let other lower caste people inside our house but the Siddhi people were free to enter our living place and were treated as equals. I don’t know how and why, but yes, they were not treated as untouchables.”
Parashuram Siddhi gives his explanation as to why the upper caste Brahmins treated the Siddhi people different from other lower caste people and not as untouchables. “We Siddhi people would do all of their work so they had to treat us well,” he says and adds to it, “See this is forest area. Wild animals keep entering the human space. To safeguard themselves from these wild animals the upper caste Brahmins would keep us near them and for no other reason. Just because that they let us near them it does not mean that they treated us as equals.” Explaining how the Siddhi people were dependent on the upper caste landlords for money for survival Parashuram Siddhi says, “If we asked them for some money, in the form of loan, for the education of our children, they (upper caste Brahmins) would discourage us and not give us money.”
Parashuram Siddhi himself had to discontinue his studies after class six. He could not appear for his class seven exam as he could not pay the examination fees that year. He also recollects the days of his childhood when the parents of the upper caste students would “pressurize” the teachers not to let a Siddhi student to give speech on “Holy people” like Gandhi and Vivkenananda. The same parents would ask their children to stay away from the Siddhi children, he remembers.
Girish Siddhi son of Parashuram Siddhi says the conversion level among the Siddhi people as Christian Siddhi is increasing because of the raising level of the awareness among the Siddhi people about the importance of education. “The missionary people provide them education which the Hindu temples and Hindu organizations do not. And our people need education, so they convert.”
But these conversions are “coercive” to Shantaram Siddhi, known as the first Siddhi to have completed his graduation. An active member of Vanavaasi Kalyaana Sangha, which happens to be a part of the Sangh Parivar, Shantaram Siddhi, who greets people saying “Hari Om,” is of the belief that the Christian missionaries speak about Hindu Gods in a disrespectful manner and “attract” the Hindu Siddhi people into Chrstiantity.
Looking through the eyes of Shantaram Siddhi it appears like converting to Christianity is an easy affair. But Farnwina Siddhi, wife of Mingel Siddhi, whose son is in the process of becoming a “priest” in a pride filled voice, says that it isn’t easy to convert to Christianity. “Our culture,” she says, “needs to be learnt and it is not easy.”
Parashuram Siddhi remembers his parents and grandparents being Christians. “Christianity and Islam, I found to be quite rigid and to liberate myself from all those rigidities I converted as a Hindu,” he explains.
With the Hindu people the Siddhi people shared a “close” relationship, for existential purposes. According to G.T. Bhat the Siddhi people were allowed to enter the living space of the upper caste Hindu people “But when the upper caste people went to the house of Siddhi people the host would feel uncomfortable,” and hence the upper caste Hindu people “rarely” paid visits to the Siddhi houses.
“I Think I Can Make The Other Dance, Therefore I Am.”
Depiction of such visits by the upper caste Brahmins to the houses of the Siddhi in the play ‘Sattavara Kateyalla’ written and directed by Raghunanadan triggered a “controversy” remembers Dundi Bhat. The play which Raghunandan wrote based on his personal interaction with the Siddhi people during his stay with the Siddhi people for months showed upper caste Brahmins visiting the house of the Siddhi people to have a taste of the alcohol and meat, remembers Dundi Bhat, which invited opposition from the upper caste people to the play. G.T. Bhat recollecting the controversy around the play commented, “Raghunandan in his play projected us (Havyak Brahmins) as their (Siddhi) enemy and that spoiled the impression the Siddhi people had about us and also the outer world had about us.”
Raghunandan’s play, alleges G.T. Bhat, had a negative impact on the social image of the Havyak Brahmins while it intended to speak of the Siddhi world. But the play which made a great impact on the Siddhi people happens to be the play Kappu Janara Kempu Neralu based on the Chinua Achebe novel Things Fall Apart by Chidambara Rao Jambe.
Rustom Barucha writes in his essay ‘Neensam: A Cultural Alternative’ writes that the world outside and the Karnataka Government recognized the Siddhi community and following this they were given the status of “Scheduled Caste.” But the play did more than just Government benefits for the Siddhi people.
Parashuram Siddhi says, “It was only after we staged the play directed by Jambe Sir that the outside world saw us as human beings. The play constructed a bridge between us and the outer world. Outside people accepted us after the play. Earlier we too had inferiority complex inside us but with the staging of the play and the love that we got after the play, erased the inferiority complex and made way for a more free interaction with the outside world.”
Recollecting the days of Kappu Janara Kempu Neralu, Kusuma Siddhi says, “People said Jambe Sir that we Siddhi people will take more than a year to learn the play. But we learnt the play in just 19 days and staged the play on the 22 day before the then D.C. of the district Sanjay Dasgupta at Masti-Jedthi.” She underlines the point that the D.C. also did not know that a community of this sort lived in the district.
While Parashuram Siddhi holds the opinion that the play taught him “how to live,” Kusuma Siddhi opines, “Art was inside the Siddhi people always. But it was Jambe who brought it out from us and made us realize the existence of art within us,” and adds to it, “Earlier we used to sing and dance only inside our house and only among the Siddhi people, once we did the play we started performing our dance and songs even outside our house and also to non-Siddhi audiences.
Kusuma Siddhi happens to be the first Siddhi who is supposed to have spoken in public addressing a gathering. She was asked to voice her experience of being a part of the play, after staging the play and she did. That is believed to be the first time a Siddhi addressed a gathering in public.
The success of Kappu Janara Kepmu Neralu not just brought recognition for the Siddhi tribe, it also raised their self esteem and come forward and present their folk songs and folk tales before the world.
Girish Siddhi and his sister Girija Siddhi say that their father Parashuram Siddhi, after the success of Kappu Janara Kempu Neralu thought of taking on stage the Pugudi and Damaami dance which is an integral part of the Siddhi community. “Pugudi dance did not have a form and a structure as such earlier. People danced as their heart made them dance. But dad gave it a form and a structure and asked people to dance in co-ordination and thus prepared our dance for the stage,” Girish Siddhi and Girija Siddhi say.
Speaking proudly of the Damaami dance Lawrence Siddhi says, “Our music has such power that if anyone is to listen to it then he would not be able to resist himself from dancing,” almost reminding one of the popular statement of Leopold Senghor, “I think I can make the other dance, therefore I am.”
Things Fall Apart; The Centre Cannot Hold
It appears like Mingel Siddhi started a group of his own in the early nineties and Kusuma Siddhi started her own group of Pugudi and Damaami dance soon after the success of Kappu Janara Kempu Neralu.
Mingel Siddhi says he got the idea of forming a cultural group of Siddhi people when he was a part of the Akhila Karnataka Vikasa Sangha where people from various communities would perform their traditional dance and performances. So to showcase the Siddhi culture he started a cultural group in the year 1991. His active participation as a cultural leader got him the membership of the Konkani Academy for nine years and finally Konkani Academy Award in the year 2002.
Farnwina Siddhi, wife of Mingel Siddi remembers the days when her husband would be invited from various villages to sing all through the night. “Now with the coming of picture (to mean cinema) he has forgotten our folktales and songs.”
From the past seven years, Mingel Siddhi has not been actively participating in the cultural group that he started. And the people who are carrying forward the group, under the leadership of Kalaar Siddhi, say, “Mingel is not in our culture nowadays. He has left our culture,” which makes it clear that these people have taken the word ‘culture’ for their cultural group. It is the same matter which comes to light when they say, “Our culture has gone also to Delhi.”
Kusuma Siddhi speaks of her group getting divided further. “Ours was the first and the main group. Once we became less active Suresh Siddhi started his group. Now there are several groups. Now, even if we want to stage a play it is impossible because there is no proper understanding between our own people. I don’t think we can think of staging a play once again in our village.”
Hunting and Crime
G.T. Bhat though says that all the instruments and music that the Siddhi people play have “The same rhythm” he says that the Siddhi people are “naturally rhythmic.” Praising the voice of the Siddhi people G.T. Bhat says, “They are naturally good in music and pick up instruments very easily.” He says that the Siddhi people learn other labor works also very quickly, but says that “They are very lazy by nature.” Yet another common belief among the upper caste people of the region is that the Siddhi people are liars.
Countering these “ideas” Girish Siddhi says, “We are basically hunters and artists. We worked as agricultural laborers for our livelihood. Our people go work in the landlords field for four to five days but on the fifth of the sixth day they are unable to control their hunting instincts so they take leave, without informing the landlord, and go for hunting. The absence without prior notice made the landlords believe that our people are lazy. And when our people returned to work they could not say that they went for hunting or fishing because most of the landlords were Brahmins. So our people would come with some lie which got us branded as liars.”
Girija Siddhi says that the Siddhi people do not have the required strength to speak the truth leave alone lies and speaks of the several incidents where the Siddhi people have been “booked” in “false criminal cases,” where they did not have the courage to speak the truth that they were not a part of the crime.
She recollects the famous “Nagesh Siddhi Theif” who was a household name ten fifteen years ago. A thief wearing a wig matching the hair of the Siddhi people would steal things from farms and houses and then while running away would scream out loud, “I am Nagesh, a Siddhi theif.” Girija Siddhi asks, “Will any thief announce his name?” and says that it was an attempt to strengthen the wrong impression the people had that the Siddhi people were also criminals.
John Siddhi and Lawrence Siddhi recollect many cases where the Siddhi people were used by the “anti-social elements” for criminal purposes without informing them that the work they are being assigned off if an illegal work. Parashuram Siddhi says that the Siddhi people were being used as “vehicles” for criminal activities and would be caught by the police when the actual criminals would escape and be safe, behind the screen.
“If our people plot a crime then they would know how to escape but when they have not scripted it they don’t know how to come out of the trap. So these people who are being caught by the police are more or less innocent people. We indulge in hunting and we indulge in such a way that the police cannot catch us,” says Girish Siddhi and smiles.
Land and Organizations
There have been incidents of taking thumb impression from the illiterate Siddhi people and thus “swallowing” the little bit land that the Siddhi people possess, says Lawrence Siddhi. He gives a rough statistics that in the taluk of Haliyaala 40 per cent of Siddhi people own small piece of lands while in Mundugod taluk 25 per cent people do own land and 10 per cent people in Yellapura taluk. Some of the Siddhi lands are encroached lands. Mingel Siddhi says that his one and half acres of land are encroached land. But the Government neither chases him nor grants him the land. Girish Siddhi says that the list of the Siddhi names for the legalization of encroached land in 1972 was not sent to the central Government by the district administration.
John Siddhi mentions that there have also been incidents where non-Siddhi people, to take benefit of the Government facilities available to the Siddhi people, have issued “false caste certificates.” To stop such happenings now to get a Siddhi caste certificate one has to take a letter from the Siddhi Abhivruddhi Sangha, says Lawrence Siddhi who is currently the President of the Siddi Abhivruddhi Sangha and Siddhi Janajagruthi Mattu Abhivruddhi Trust, Yellapura. These two organizations, he says, works in the direction of tapping the Government schemes for which the Siddhi people qualify, creating awareness about the importance of education and conducting awareness camps with the help of Self Help Groups.
Girish Siddhi mentions of a Siddhi Trust at Manchikere which conducts a summer vacation art camp every year in the month of April for both Siddhi and non-Siddhi children. “This camp brings together the Siddhi and non-Siddhi world and enables them to know each other better.” The trust has also been taking initiative in staging a play every year with both Siddhi and non-Siddhi actors. Some of the recent plays have been Three Penny Opera and Chor Charan Das.
Recognizing the potential of the Siddhi people in the realm of sports Margret Alva set up the Special Area games where the Siddhi children were being trained for sports in Bangalore in a special hostel, recollects Girish Siddhi, who happens to be a national level athlete. But due to “politics” the Special Area Games was turned into Sports Authority of India where no Siddhi people were directly selected for the games. “Many of us were in our late teens when this development took place. It was too late for us to continue our studies then and too early to get a job. We were all in a fix,” remembers Girish Siddhi.
Dundi Bhat mentions of one Jaya Siddhi and his sister Maala Siddhi who found a job under the sports quota after being a part of the national sports team, but faced trauma in their working space.
Ghara Waina Vimana Gaile…
The very same Dundi Bhat, in a critical tone says, “Earlier they were simple agricultural laborers but these days you must see their style,” and mentions about the “cooling glass” and the “jeans pant” that the Siddhi people have been wearing off late. G.T. Bhat saying “Modernity has had great influence on their life,” says that the major investment of Siddhi people these days has been on “fashion and mobile.” He says that the Siddhi people dress themselves in such a way that they have to be recognized as Siddhi people only by their hair.
These statements make it evident that the Siddhi people have welcomed modernity and have interacted with it. This element can also be seen in some of their folk songs too. Kusuma Siddhi sings the song Aag’na Gaadi which means the vehicle which runs on fire referring to the train and also the song Ghara Waina Vimaana Gaile Baguvaa Yavange where the description of the wings and fans of the plane that is flying above the house is given.
When Kusuma Siddhi completed singing the song Ghara Waina Vimaana Gaile, G.T. Bhat tried to explain to Kusuma Siddhi that one among them must have seen the aero plane in the air port and that the wings and the fans of the aero plane is not visible to naked eyes when they fly above the house. Taking this offensively Kusuma Siddhi said, “No Bhat Sir, it is these days that the aero plane flies at such a height. Earlier they flew close to the ground and all the described wings and fans were visible to the naked eyes.”
When C.R. Jambe was staging Kappu Janara Kempu Neralu a lady refused to wear the costume that was designed for her, mentions Rustom Barucha in his essay. G.T. Bhat recollecting that incident says, “She felt that the costume she was being made to wear was quite revealing hence she objected to such a costume.”
“Danku Danku”
Following the play by C.R. Jambe the Siddhi community has attracted many researchers. Dundi Bhat says that the researchers started paying the Siddhi people for having spoken to them and this “Spoiled” the environment. Ganapathi Siddhi had warned us that we might be asked to pay for having spoken to us.
Kalaar Siddhi mentioned about a team of African researchers who had come to meet them couple of years ago. But Kusuma Siddhi who stays around 25-30 kilometers away did not know about any such research team. “That is how it is. If the researchers come to the other side of our people they do not guide them to us and if they come to us first we don’t mention to them about our people living in the next village,” says Kusuma Siddhi.
Kalaar Siddhi narrates of the telephonic conversation she had with the African researcher who had come down couple of years ago. The researcher is said to have given his phone number to Kalaar Siddhi and asked to contact him for any help. “I rang him and I said that I was Kalaar Siddhi and I don’t know what he was speaking from the other side. He kept saying ‘Danku Kalaara Danku,’ ‘Hoke Hoke’ and ‘Bye Bye’ as I kept telling him, in Kannada, that I do not follow his language. But he could not follow Kannada and I couldn’t follow English,” and adds “Now I have even lost his number.”
Dundi Bhat mentions that the Siddhi people feeling betrayed by every researcher for none of the researches have helped them in their day to day life. Girija Siddhi says “The Siddhi people are so tired of being looted that fearing that their information will also be looted; they do not give away the deepest of their information to the researchers. They will open up completely to people like our Jambe and our Raghunandan who live with us for months and live like us, with us.”
Hindu Colonialism
A friend, recently, did a research work on culture and communication, with Siddhi tribe- settled in the Uttar Kannada district of Karnataka- as a case study.
The physical appearance of the Siddhi tribe is Negroid, but their origin remain mysterious, even to themselves. Some of them speak of their lost relatives in Goa and one of them confided in Chidambarrao Jambe- a theater artist, who directed a play based on Chinua Achebe’s novel Things Fall Apart with Siddhi actors- that, “The Indians came to Africa and brought us here by lorry.” Though it sounds hilarious, it is tragic because the tribe is not aware of its past. However, it is believed that they are descendants of Negro slaves brought to India by the Arabs, Portuguese and Dutch traders. From Goa, later, they must have migrated to Uttar Kannada district in Karnataka.
The Siddhi people in Karnataka, have identified themselves with the religious groups of Hinduism, Islam and Christianity. So, in Uttar Kannada district one can find Hindu Siddhis, Muslim Siddhis and Christian Siddhis and one can also find that in all the three religious groups they are treated as inside outsiders.
As my friend was working on his research, i was working on a paper on the theater experiment conducted by Jambe with the Siddhi community. Then, my preoccupation was not just Siddhi community but also as to how colonialism stripped communities of their memory, life and culture, more than just being a hegemonic force of economical and political domination.
My friend, during viva, was asked by an external examiner: “Oh! Are there Brahmin Siddhis too?” My friend was perplexed when the term “Brahmin Siddhi” was repeated few more times. His research guide intervened and asked the external examiner, “Sir, do you mean Hindu Siddhis?” and the external examiner correcting himself said, “yes yes, Hindu Siddhis.”
After a good laugh, following the narration of the viva incident by my friend and his research guide, i was struck by a thought that there were similarities between Hinduism and Colonialism.
***
What we see in colonialism, in a broader sense, is that a colony or territory is deprived of its independence and essence by a foreign colony or territory and is an object of exploitation and oppression with appendage of a mother colony or territory. Here looking at these colonies or territories as just geographical units is to dilute the seriousness of the issue of colonialism and its impact on the colonized units.
In colonialism both the colonizer and the colonized are a colony or a territory and are different from other colonies. But finally one colony colonizes certain other colonies and brings them under its supervision and imposes itself on the colonized colonies. But before a colony colonizes another colony it has to colonize itself. Before external colonization takes place an internal colonization becomes necessary. Before Europe colonized Asia, Africa and South America it had to colonize itself as Europe. Then only it could colonize other colonies and bring them under its umbrella.
Interestingly, the Vedas, the Upanishads and even the Bhagawad-Geetha do not have any reference to the word ‘Hindu’. It is believed that the first time the word ‘Hindu’ was used by Alexander when he referred to the people living across the river Sindh as Hindus. A bad pronunciation of Sindh gave birth to the word Hindu. However, the first reference to the word Hindu, says Sham. Ba. Joshi, comes in the inscriptions of the Vijayanagara kingdom, where the emperor is referred to as ‘Hindu raaya Sratrana’. Very interestingly this title comes at a time when the Bahmani kingdom of Gulbarga was becoming strong. The word ‘Suratraana’ is the Sanskritized version of ‘Sultaana’ – which referred to the Muslim Bahmani kings. It can be seen that the reference to all non-Muslim people as Hindus came as a political insecurity. This act of bringing together various faith and colonies under one umbrella of Hinduism, it appears to me, is quite similar to colonialism.
Prior to this several colonies of faith co-existed and so did exist the hierarchy among these different colonies of faith. The Brahmins had already established their hegemony among these different colonies of faith and thus the Hindu internal colonization became Brahmin colonialism. So, it is not a surprise that Hindu Siddhis were called Brahmin Siddhis.
A synonym to the word Hindu, in popular use, is the word ‘Sanaatana Dharma’. Interestingly, again, the word ‘Sanaatana’ does not appear in the holy scriptures Hinduism. The first reference to the word ‘Sanaatana’ comes in Dhammapada, where in a couplet Gautham Buddha says: “Through hatred, hatred cannot mitigated. It is only through non-hatred that it can be mitigated and this is Sanaatana.”
If not for the historical rivalry between the Brahmins and the Buddhists, this borrowing of the word ‘Sanaatana’ could have been viewed as a part of the healthy give and take culture. But because of the historical rivalry and clash, this reference to Hindus as people of ‘Sanaatana Dharma’ can be viewed as an attempt made by Brahmins to colonize Buddhism. Including Buddha in the Dashaavataara- 10 incarnations of Lord Vishnu- can also be viewed as an attempt to colonize Buddhism.
Dr. B.R. Ambedkar argues that prior to its interaction with Buddhism, Brahmins were non-vegetarians and more importantly beef eaters. Vaajsaneyi Samhita declaring that ‘Beef should be consumed precisely because it is holy,’ is one of the evidences. Beef was used for the performance of various rituals by Brahmins and Manu Smrithi, in its fifth chapter, provides evidences for the same. But when Buddhism and its non-violent philosophy started attracting people, Brahmins in order to regain their supremacy turned pure vegetarians, to make a statement that they were more non-violent than the Buddhists, who then, would eat meat if the animal died a natural death.
The agro-based society, initially got attracted towards Buddhism but were re-colonized by Brahmins with their shift to pure vegetarianism. With this, certain non-Brahmin faith colonies too turned into non-beef eating non-vegetarians, though they could not turn pure vegetarians. The creating of an environment where the life style and eating habits of the non-Brahmin faith colonies changed is a form of indirect colonization, it appears.
But the salves continued to eat beef and meat. Even in the earlier days they did not slaughter cow or other animals. They ate the left overs and the dead animals. Brahmins and other non-Brahmin faith colonies had to slaughter the animals for consumption but in their rivalry with Buddhism they stopped cow and other animal slaughter as it was a symbol of violence. But the slaves never slaughtered cows or animals but ate them when they were dead and so they continued to eat beef and other animals. These beef eating slaves were soon labeled as untouchables. This inclusive exclusion because of its inclusive nature is a form of colonialism. But in such a fashion that the colonized cannot escape and liberate itself though it is quite exclusive in nature.
This inclusive exclusion method of colonizing is not just with the untouchables but also with the people subscribing to the Lokayata- materialist- philosophy, which is also rooted in this soil.
D.R. Nagaraj brings out a slice from the epic Mahabharatha where after the victory at Kurukshetra, Dharmaraaya is re-entering the palace. While he is re-entering the palace a sage stops him and asks, “For what reason did you kill your brothers?” Dharmaraaya is unable to answer for the answer is “power and wealth” which is materialistic in nature. Other sages who were welcoming Dharmaraaya by singing his praise immediately killed the questioning sage and consoled Dharmaraaya by saying, “He was not sage Kapila himself. An evil spirit had entered his body, so you need not worry.”
The murdered Kapila was one among the materialist philosophers like Charwaaka, who belonged to the Lokayata tradition of philosophy. The assassination of Kapila- a representative of Lokayata philosophy- is again a symbol of inclusive exclusion type of colonialism.
***
The internal colonization has been continued even in the modern times and great attempts have been made toward external colonization by Hindutva ideology, with Ram and Raamaayan.
Interestingly the very Valmilki Raamayan, which is considered as the original and authentic Raamaayan is a colonizer of various folk Raamayans. “Ram is the very breath of folk literature and not a legend nor a myth nor a symbol,” says Vidya Nivas Misra. These folklores were later refined into the great epic, Vidya Nivas Misra, adds. This becomes evident with the first question put by Valmiki to Naarada: “Konvaasmin sampratam loke gunavaan kasca viyavaan’ to mean- “who in this world is the person who is endowed with manly qualities and whose life should be a proper theme for a poem?” This question makes evident that the Rama theme has originated in folklore. By upholding Valmiki Raamayana several folk Raamayanas were colonized.
The Hindutva brigade to further colonize Hindus used Rama, the very breath of folk literature, as an icon of pan-Hindu and by projecting Ram temple construction at Ayodhya as THE matter of dignity for ALL Hindus.
Friend and revolutionary activist K. Stalin, recently mentioned about the monthly programmes that used to be organized by the Hindutva brigade in Gujarat, for the tribes. In these programmes at the end every tribal individual would be given a gift and the gift would be an image of Rama or some other Sanskritised God. With this, Stalin said, the tribal people started identifying themselves with Hindus and when the 2002 attacks took place, these tribes, who during earlier Hindu-Muslim riots never took a stand, took a stand with the Hindutva and against the Muslims. The non-Hindu tribes were thus colonized by the Hindutva brigade.
The agenda of the Hindutva is not just to colonize Hindus internally but also to colonize a secular India and turn it into a Hindu nation. This becomes clear with the demolition of Babri Masjid, in 1992, with the intention of construction a Ram temple in the very same place.
Interestingly, Jains are of the belief that Vrishabha deva was born in Ayodhya and Ramachandra Gandhi draws our attention to the evidences which claim that the place in Ayodha where the Hindutva brigade wants a temple for Ram, used to be Sita’s kitchen. But what the Hindu colonizers want there is a temple for Ram. This is a metaphor of Hindu colonialism in the modern times.
A day after the demolition of the Babri Masjid, i.e. 7 December 1992, early in the morning in a remote village, D.R. Nagaraj and Asghar Ali Engineer, in a small hotel, were waiting for the arrival of newspaper. Being in a remote village they had not come to know what had happened the previous day in Ayodhya. D.R. Nagaraj, recollecting that morning, writes: The moment Asghar Ali Engineer saw the newspaper, when it arrived, he exclaimed- “What they demolished was not just the mosque but the future of a just born nation named India”
Seventeen years after the demolition, in his article ‘Under the rubble’, Harsh Mander sir wrote: “Under the rubble of the fallen mosque lay the idea of India itself.”
Speaking Of Shiva
The tone of the voice and the content of the speech, both convinced me that he was an astrologer cum priest. I opened my eyes and the typical red mark on his forehead was like an official stamp on my conclusion about him being an astrologer cum priest.
I got down from the upper berth, where i was sleeping, brushed my teeth and occupied my seat in the train, on my way to Bareilly, with this astrologer cum priest on my right.
He had got into the train before i woke up and already had created a group of devotional listeners to his early morning sermon/ lecture. The lecture on world and the ‘other’/ ‘higher’ world and self and the ‘other’/ ‘higher’ self, was making its way into me, through my ears, how much ever i tried to distract my mind from the time and space i had occupied.
“If you worship to God and do not give alms to the beggar and the poor, you do not get moskha (salvation). If you intend to get moskha you need to give alms to beggars and the poor. Saying prayers to the God will not get you a place in the heaven but if you help the poor, your place in heaven is ensured. You can cleanse every sin of yours but if you insult a poor or fail to help him, you cannot cleanse that sin,” the priest cum astrologer went on.
This whole idea of ‘buying’ salvation by giving alms and taking the help of the poor, by helping them, to ensure a place in the heaven and in total walking to the destination of God by stepping the path of poor and poverty reminded me of a poem from the latest collection of poetry by U.R.Ananthamurthy Sir.
The poem titled Chandala-Shiva- which is a convergence of a demon named Chandala and lord Shiva, speaks of an incident where sage Aadishankara while walking in a dense forest meets Chandala. Being a Namboodari Brahmin, Aadishankara expects Chandala to make way for him, as he is used to such respectable treatment. Chandala refuses to make way, even after Aadishankara, through gesture, asks him to.
“You are a soul and i too am a soul, nothing more nothing less. None of the two are the supreme soul. So tell me who is superior and who is inferior?” With this question put forth by Chandala, a realization dawned upon Aadishankara. At this point, the poet says, Chandala turned into Shiva.
The poet further explains that we should not mistake it as an episode where Shiva came to Aadishankara, to break his ego, in the form of Chandala. It was Chandala himself. But with the realization Aadishankara was able to see Shiva- the God- in the demon named Chandala.
With the ability to see Shiva- the God- in Chandala, the ‘being’ of Aadishankara was transformed. And it is ‘being’ and not ‘giving’, ‘buying’, ‘helping’ which brings one closer to God and also brings abouta change in life, to mean collective life and not individual life. and brings heaven on earth.
Ullavaru Shivalayava Maaduvaru
Naaneena Maadali Badavanayya.
Enna Kaale Kamba, dehave Degula
SHira Honna Kalashavayya.
Koodlasangamadeva, Kelaya
Stahvarakkalivuntu, Jangamakkalivilla.
[The rich
Will make temples for Shiva.
What shall i,
A poor man,
Do?
My legs are pillars,
The body the shrine,
The head a cuploa
Of Gold.
Listen, O lord of the meeting rivers,
Things standing shall fall,
But the moving ever shall stay]
This vachana by the 12th century port and social reformer Basavanna, says A.K. Ramanujan, draws a distinction between ‘making’ and ‘being’. The rich can only ‘make’ temples. They many not ‘be’ or ‘become’ temples by what they do. Further what is made is a mortal artifact, but what one ‘is’ is immortal.
By ‘being’ a temple and this ‘being’ able to see God in fellow ‘being’s, even demons and poor, the life ‘become’s heavenly (a better place to live) and not by ‘making’ temples or ‘giving’ alms, ‘helping’ the poor. This world is not to be seen as a path to the ‘other’/ ‘higher’ world but this world should be transferred into the ‘other’/ ‘higher’ world.
Shivanu bhikshakebanda needu aare tangi
Ivanantha cheluvanilla nodu baare tangi.
[Lor Shiva has come asking for alms, sister
Come see for no one is as beautiful as he is]
We should look at the above lines from a Kannada folk song the way we looked at the poem of Ananthamurthy. Here it is not to be seen as Shiva coming in the form of a beggar but a beggar appearing as Shiva or one being able to see Shiva in a beggar.
Quoting these lines from the folk song D.R. Nagaraj, possibly being disillusioned by the experiments of Communism and Socialism in the world, wrote: ” How much ever socialism takes a pro-poor stand, it can never see a beggar as the God himself or a God in a beggar. Looking at the beggar as a poor soul oppressed by all sorts of oppression might appear politically correct to us. But, being aware of the possible criticism saying i am romanticizing and spiritualizing poverty, i say that in a society which cannot see the beggar as Shiva or a Shiva in a beggar, in such a society a permanent beggarhood for the beggar and poverty for the poor is ensured.”
Crime And Creativity
On 28 November 2009 i happened to read the Sahitya Akademi Samvatsar Lecture (16) Criminals and Killers: A Personal View, delivered by Vijay Tendulkar in the year 2002. A particular part of the lecture moved me so much that the moment i finished reading the lecture i rang a fried of mine (Vishnu) intending to read out that particular part to him. But I guess Vishnu was busy. He did not receive the call. But i HAD to share the experience of reading something wonderful with someone. And i called up another friend (Divya Lad) and read out a slice of the lecture to her. After listening patiently, in complete silence, to my reading out of a part of the lecture Ms. Lad broke her silence with “Awesome.” Her voice reflected how much that part of the lecture, which is hilarious and serious at the same time, had touched her.
Today on her (Divya Lad) birthday i thought i will type out the part that i had read out to her nearly a week ago and mail, as a birthday gift. And i have typed out a slice of the lecture. But i cant share it with just Divya, so i am sharing it with all of you. Hope you all enjoy this part of the lecture as much as i did, or even the more. Happy reading.
In my fellowship years I met and interviewed several killers and other criminals. Even a serial killer. But one man whom I met in the drawing room of an astrologer fried of mine was the most dangerous. A thoroughly non-violent white collared upper caste middle aged person. Even the memory of that meeting which took place many years ago makes me nervous. I was called by my astrologer friend tome this person one evening. He would send for me when he had a client whom I would find interesting. I was staying within walking distance from his flat. I was not told who I was going to meet. The person I saw sitting in my friend’s drawing room looked indistinct at first glance. He was that type who will not be noticed on the road. A modest build and a face that you feel you have just seen at the corner. He smiled at me and I returned the smile. In the next few minutes I knew that he had a habit of smiling. Before my friend introduced him the man introduced himself.
“I am Joshi. Your respected self?” He sounded very courteous.
I introduced myself.
“Profession?” Joshi asked.
“Writing of sorts. Journalism, plays…”
“Mine if fraud.”
I thought I had not heard right.
“What did you say…?” I asked.
“F-R-A-U-D.” Joshi made it more obvious for me. He was casual and smiling. For a moment I felt completely lost. Did not know what to say about it. My face must have displayed my confused state. Joshi said, “I am sure your friend called you to meet me specifically for this reason. My profession is somewhat odd. Not practiced by many.”
I was still speechless.
“Because the skill involved are not taught in a school or a college and also because it is a profession with a high rate of risk. Risk of being caught and jailed. I am just out of jail on a parole and before I go back I have to get a deal done. I have come to consult this astrologer friend of yours in connection with this deal I want to finalize. No, not whether I should get into it but an auspicious day on which I can clinch it.”
The smile was constant on the face. By this time I had noticed that though the smile was on the face the eyes never smiled. They seemed to dig deep into the other person’s eyes all the time. So much that they made me restless.
“What does a person who writes, earn per- let us say a book or a play?” Joshi put a question to me as if he was interviewing me. I did not like his superior stance. I said, “Depends. Depends on the stature of the writer and the demand for the book or the play. ON how much the book sells or the play runs.”
“Quote a figure.” he pressed me. I quoted a figure.
“And how much time is required to write a book? A play? You can tell me approximately.”
“A year. Two years at times. Depends on the kind of book one writes.”
“Too little.” Joshi quipped and sighed in pity. “Ion my profession I earn this amount in a day. At times in one hour.”
And he had already told me what his profession was. Fraud. Duping innocent people. That he had practiced only this profession for the last twenty years and had been to jail only three times. That too because the time was astrologically bad for him. But business was business and one cannot wait for good times all the time, he said. I felt increasingly annoyed by this man in spite of his courteous tone. He is a criminal and gives me the feel of a superior person. That his profession of fraud is superior to my creative writing. Restraining myself I said, “a respectable profession has other advantages like a respectable life and peace of mind. You don’t harm anyone. You don’t have to worry over matters like being caught and being sent to jail.” “You are right,” Joshi supported my claim. “When you don’t have the guts better stay satisfied where you are and be satisfied with whatever come your way as your earning. My kind of work requires guts. A conviction of mind if I may put it that way. You know I am a believer in certain things.”
“Like?” My tone was uncontrollably sarcastic but he did not seem to mind. “What are your beliefs if I can ask?”
“I claim to be a disciple of Lord Krishna who has authored Bhagawad Geeta. I follow him,” said Joshi.
“What are his teachings according to you?”
“He according to me is the originator of my art. He told Geeta to Arjuna on the battleground of Kurukshetra. Right? What is Geeta? A brainwash. A psychological gimmick. A fine one of its kind. Arjuna did not wish to fight but it was the need of the time that he fought it out with the Kauravas. Krishna knew that what Arjuna felt was right. War is destructive. All wars are. But we fight them. Krishna had to make Arjuna get up and fight. Make him and his men kill and plunder and destroy though in Mahabharata it is described as Sharma-yuddha, a war fought with certain rules. No war is dharma-yuddha. Being extraordinarily intelligent and knowing human psychology as well as the inevitability of human destruction Krishna cheated Arjuna out of his dilemma with great success. What Bhagwan Krishna did was an intellectual trick, a fine fraud, because that war and what happened in it and after it was destiny. Everything was to happen.”
I would have murdered anyone for such an atrocious interpretation of Geeta but Joshi sounded so sure of himself when he said it that I momentarily saw Bhagawad Geeta as a glorious fraud and Krishna, a superior Joshi.
“No, I do not agree with you at all,” I gathered my senses and contradicted him. “On the other hand I now see how you twist facts to suit your purpose. Please don’t compare yourself to Lord Krishna. A cheat is a cheat.”
Of course.” He conceded. “I am not Lord Krishna. I am a small being in front of him. I was only answering your question. You wanted to know about my beliefs. I believe in Geeta and the principles behind it. Very fraud needs to be planned with the utmost care. It must not look like one. Should be worded properly. The one for whom it is meant must feel that the one who dupes him is his benefactor. You must pay attention to psychology. Only then it works. Lord Krishna succeeded because he was God; Joshi fails some times and has to suffer for the failure because he is a human being and capable of making mistakes however hard he tries to be perfect. The best I can do is to keep correcting old mistakes which I do. Never the same mistake for the second time.” I was feeling amused and increasingly annoyed at the same time. What kind of a man was Joshi? I decided not to encourage this man anymore. I turned to my astrologer friend who had called me to meet Joshi and who was watching us both, looking amused. I started a conversation with him side-tracking Joshi. Joshi did not intrude. He waited till I got up and followed me till we were in the open.
“I want to apologize if I have hurt your feelings.” He sounded genuinely apologetic.
“Oh no, nothing of the kind.” I pretended, “It was in the game, Joshi.”
“And I want to make a small request to you if you will not mind.” Joshi said, looking very humble. His hands were folded to emphasize his humble posture.
“You know, my kind of life does not allow one to develop a social circle and keep expanding it and what I need is fresh contacts. I cannot use the same contact again, you know why. Lately I have run out of contacts because of this year in jail.”
“So?” I was half-expecting something terrible to happen. It did. Joshi said next, “You are a writer. Your circle must be large and respectable. Why don’t you introduce me to some of them? Only the moneyed ones.” I was speechless.
“I mean only those who are well off. Not the others. Not writers in any case. Real respectable moneyed stuff.”
“Have you gone off your rocker, Mr. Joshi?” I was trembling with rage.
“No, please don’t misunderstand my request.” Joshi. “You being a writer I expect you to understand what I am saying. If not me, someone is going to do my job these days. Money, after all, has to change hands. Then why not me? I wont involve you after the first introduction. No legal hassles for you, I give you my solemn word.”
“Joshi…” I could not say anything further because of my growing sense of outrage. “It will be absolutely safe, I guarantee. And if you like, there will be money for you. We can make it a nice proposal.”
I left Joshi where he was. Could not sleep that night. For days the memory of Joshi would not let me live my life. This happened in the early seventies.
[Page 21-26, Criminals and Killers: a personal view, Sahitya Akademi Samvatsar Lectures: 16 (2002), by Vijay Tendulkar, published by Shiata Akademi, New Delhi, 2002]
Sanskritization As A Regressive Counter Culture
On 5 July 2009 in Udupi, Karnataka, a seminar on ‘Sanskritization and Vishwakarma Brahmins‘ was organized where i was invited to give reactions to the day long lectures. The organizers, now, have brought out a souvenir where published are all the lectures and the reaction voiced in the seminar. Here i am sharing my paper with you all:
The concept of sanskritization has to be seen as a counter-culture. Sanksritization is in conversation with the hegemony of brahminhood, which all through history has not accepted the people of lower caste as an important part of human civilization, human society. It is the craving among the lower caste people for an acceptance from the higher caste which triggered the trend of following and imitating the rituals and culture of the higher caste. After all who doesn’t need acceptance? Look at the 12th century poet Basavanna. He says: Nudidarey Linga Mechchi Ahudu Ahudu Enabeku, (When you speak Lord Shiva should appreciate it and agree to it) which is a mirror to the fact that man wants acceptance from God too and not just from human beings.
The lower caste people, in their innocence, believed heart in heart that through imitation, they could become one among the higher caste people, stand with them and gain acceptance from them. Hence sanskritization is to be viewed as a counter-culture which is, in a way, trying to counter the hegemony of one caste and the hegemony of one culture.
But the counter-culture named sanskritization is a regressive counter-culture and not a progressive one. Any counter-culture or counter-hegemonic culture becomes progressive and not regressive when the very hegemonic space and icon is challenged and broken. By merging or becoming one with the hegemonic icon or space, a counter culture becomes a partner or replacement of hegemony, which doesn’t inaugurate a new history of and for the world.
To quote example from the 18th century Adivasi revolt in Puri Jagannath temple, Orissa, one can say it was an existential revolt which was progressive in nature. The temple earlier belonged to the Adivasis, which later was hijacked by the higher caste people. The God and the temple which once belonged to the Adivasi’s now became an icon of exploitation of the Adivasi’s. So the Adivasi’s went to burn the idol of Jagannatha and temple at Puri saying “Daaru Pratima Na Poojive.”
In this revolt, the Adivasi’s went on to burn the God which was theirs once, for existential reason. The point to be focused here is that though the God and the temple, once belonged to them had become an icon of exploitation. So destroying or burning it down meant destabilizing the hegemony and exploitation too. It did not long to share the space with the exploiter and make space for exploitation to continue. Hence the “Daaru Pratima Na Poojive” revolt can be referred to as a progressive revolt.
Now coming to the matter of Vishwakarma community, according to M.N. Shrinivas, being Sanskritized, it should be noted that the community of Vishwakarmas, during pre-Aryan times, enjoyed Brahminical status because of their association with Brahma who is known as the Srishtikartha (Creator). But with the invasion of Aryan’s Vishwakrma people’s Brahminical status started eroding and finally they lost their Brahminical status with Aryan’s abolishing the worship of Lord Brahma. The study of M.N. Shrinivas unfortunately doesn’t go back so far in history and starts somewhere from the time when the Vishwakarmas have already lost their Brahminical status in the society even while practicing Brahminical life style.
Earlier in the day a speaker in this very same stage made fun of M.N. Shrinivas for having renamed his concept from Brahminisation to Sankritization. The speaker said it reflected his inconsistency. I refute this because M.N. Shrinivas earlier in his study saw that the lower caste people were imitating the life style of Brahmins and called it Brahminization and later in the course of his study he found out that there were evidences where the lower caste people were imitating the life style of non-Brahmincal upper caste people too, who in that given geographical area enjoyed a powerful status. Hence he renamed the concept of Brahminization as Sankritization. Gandhi, in an early stage of his life declared that “God is truth,” which he changed to “Truth is God,” at a later stage of his life. At the end of his life, being witness to communal violence of Indo-Pak partition, Gandhi is said to have expressed his desire that all men turned atheists.
This changing nature of belief system of Gandhi is to be viewed as reinventing truths which is a journey into the heart of truth or to use words of Gandhi himself they are “experiments with truth.” Similarly the renaming of the concept of Brahminisation to Sanskritization is not a mirror to the inconsistency of M.N. Shrinivas but his continuing journey to the heart of truth. But unfortunately the journey of M.N. Shrinivas, with reference to his comments on the community of Vishwakarma community doesn’t reach the heart of truth.Thank You.
Come Take, I Have A Dream For You.
Finally. After searching in all possible places, for more than a year, i have laid my hands on the book UNHEARD VOICES by my senior friend and my teacher Harsh Mander. As one opens the book, in one of the opening pages, one will find a poem, which was written by Harsh Sir’s sister Preet Mander (1952-74) Here i am sharing the poem with you all:
Come take,
I have a dream for you.
A dream of jewelled days.
Of winter passing
on to warmth
And drought quenched
by rain.
Come take,
I have a wish for you.
A wish that teaches
all your griefs to laugh.
That heals your wounds
by proudly baring them
to air and warmth.
That takes your pains
for bricks to slowly build
truth’s safeguards.
Come take,
I have a gift for you
Of love
And love.
A touchstone
Television And Public Space
I woke up and looked out of the window, out of habit, to check how far we had reached. All I saw was foam like clouds everywhere. Oh! I am not on the road I told myself and told myself how boring a journey on air was. While travelling on road or track one can look around at the beauty and ugliness of the world. But while on air all one can see is just the blue sky and foam like clouds.
As I stared at the foam like clouds I realized that the outside environ resembled certain sets of mythological cinema and television serials where either Narada or some other Gods and Goddesses walked and met and conversed. It was with such foam like clouds in the background that the arrows would travel and multiply in the mythological serials. I laughed as I recollected all those images of cinema and television serials. I went back in time and landed in my childhood recollecting these images of mythological cinema and television serials.
My nostalgic flight was interrupted by my neighbor who asked me for The Hindu which I had in my hand. As I passed on the paper I too felt like reading something and picked up the magazine (published by the Jet people themselves I guess) that was placed before me. I flipped through the pages finding nothing interesting till an article by one Charukeshi Ramadurai caught hold of my eyes. Coincidentally it was an article celebrating the golden jubilee of Doordarshan in India.
Speaking about how as a child he waited for the song ‘Miley Sur Mera Tumhaara’ and how religiously they watched ‘Raamayan’, ‘Mahabharath’, ‘Hum Log’, ‘Surabhi’, ‘Rangoli’ Charukeshi mentioned about how his neighbors would assemble at his place every Wednesday evening to watch ‘Chitrahaar’.
It was a common phenomenon during the early days of Doordarshan when not every house had a television set. Whichever house had a television set became a public space. People from the nearby houses came and watched television.
As I read about people from nearby houses coming to Charukeshi’s house to watch Chitrahaar I remembered the days when my sister and I would go to a nearby house in Manipal to watch ‘Mahabharath’. This continued till we got a television set at home. In that house only my sister and I were outsiders and hence it was not a public space in its real sense.
But when my sister and I used to be in Byndoor (grandparents place) we would go to the neighboring Muslim house to watch television. The nearby Muslim families, Hindu families and also Dalit families came to watch ‘Mahabharath.’ We mingled with everyone and made friends with everyone. This was not tolerated by grandfather’s younger brother who would ask us as to why we mingled with ‘other’ people. But we never listened to him and what broke the barrier was the television and the public space that it created.
A near by house was of a relative with whom our family in Byndoor was not in talking terms. It has been so from the time I have known Byndoor and my grandparents. The elders of the two houses would never talk to each other. The children of that family also came to watch television in the Muslim house where we went to watch television, for it was the only house in the immediate environment. They spoke to us and we spoke to them in the public space that the television had created. But we never dared to speak about this friendship back at home. When we interacted with them we realize that the so called enemy was also more or less like us who laughed and cried and also watched ‘Mahabharath’ like us. But we dint say ‘Hi’ or ‘Hello’ to them if we were to cross paths while with elders, in the village. Our friendship was created by and around the television set and the public space it created.
Soon our grandfather brought a television set at home and the even the enemy family had a television set at their home. The television set had started entering every house and was creating private space and no more public space. But still there were certain families which did not own television sets even after we got a television set in Byndoor. Most of them were the Dalit families. They either continued to go to the Muslim houses to watch television or would watch television in our house standing outside the door but never coming in. It appears like even technology couldn’t break the Brahminical hegemony. Technology had its own limitations. Or rather Brahminical hegemony had swallowed technology too.
Today almost every house has a television set. Some have more than one- one for every room. The public space that television once created has vanished. In many places, where every room has a television set, it creates just individual spaces and not even family spaces.
Lakshmi At Vishnu’s Feet
Listening to music on his mobile he smiled. I returned the smile. He was one of the service boys. The old couple who were there had got down from the train at some ungodly hour. The seat now was empty and he taking a break from the neighboring pantry car occupied the empty seat and was listening to music.
I could hear the music he was listening to as I was moving my mind and my eyes on the book my hand was holding. All of a sudden the music stopped. The man was not in his relaxed state and was looking into my eyes. I could read in his eyes that he had something to say. As I waited for him to say something he breathed deeply. Breaking the silence after a while, he said, “I have observed this. Girls are not the same after their marriage.”
Even before I could ask myself as to why he was telling me this and what was making him voice this question stopping the music, he continued to say, “The light on their face vanishes once they get married.” Quoting the example of his own sister he said, “I feel the chain around her when I see her now. But it was not so when she was not married.” He stopped his flow of words the way he had stopped the music. He went back to the pantry car but I could not go back to my book. Instead I went back to Bangalore where a week ago I had met Divya on my way back home.
It was after a year that I met Divya and like always we spoke about the books that we had read, the movies/plays that we had watched, the music that we had listened to. The rivulet of our conversation made its own way beyond our guidance. It reached the issue of women and marriage after a while. Speaking about how women are not treated as ‘subjects’ but as ‘objects’/ ‘things’ she asked me, “Why do parents feel relieved after they get their daughter married?” I couldn’t stop myself from recollecting the various instances where my mother had told me that she would sleep peacefully only when she would get my sister married.
There was something seriously wrong with the collective unconscious which did not treat women with dignity, it appeared to me even the more when Divya raised this question.
Divya later narrated an incident where a colleague of Vinu (Divya’s husband) said “I will give full freedom to my wife.” Divya raised objection about this whole idea about men “giving” freedom to their wives. “Have we women deposited our freedom under your shoes for you people to give it in installment to us?” she asked. I was silent. “Did men give ears, eyes, hands, nose to their wives? We were born with it. And we were also born with our freedom. What do you mean by you people giving us our freedom?” she continued. My silence also continued.
“Once while I was cooking in the kitchen my husband came and said that he would help me in my work,” recollected Divya. “What did he mean by helping me in my work?” she raised objection and pointed at the patriarchal mind set operating behind the statement. The mind set believes that cooking is women’s work and if men lend their hand then it is a work of generosity and help.
As we continued to speak another friend Rajesh came home. I introduced Divya to Rajesh and Rajesh to Divya. And as one can expect they asked one another about other details about each other. Rajesh asked Divya “Where are you from?” and Divya said “My native is near Siddapura but Dad settled in Udupi and I was brought up there. My husband’s house is also near Siddapura but he is settled in Bangalore.” As she gave this piece of information she turned towards me and asked, “Where is my house?” I was struck by this question. Her house of childhood was her ‘father’s house,’ her native is her ‘grand fathers house’ and her current house is her ‘husbands house.’ I guess every woman would come up with similar answer if asked where they were from. The identity the roots of a women is rooted in the male soil. Divya who was raising objection about this patriarchal mentality, which had seeped into the collective unconscious and sensibility of women also, could not escape from it completely.
Now when I sit and recollect these conversations I ask myself if what the service boy said is true. Yes he was true. But partially and not completely, it appears to me. Because there is a “chain around the neck” even when a girl says “My native is so and so” as much as it is when she says “my dad settled in such and such a place so I belong there,” and “after marriage we shifted to such and such a place so I belong to such and such a place now.” Everywhere one can see that the woman is not free. Not even free to claim that the house of which she is the homemaker as her own house. It is either ‘fathers place’ or ‘husbands place.’
Patriarchal mind set, as I said earlier, has seeped into the collective psyche of woman too.
A friend of mine who got engaged recently is discovering the ‘manly’ side of her fiancée. The man who was broadminded till the engagement was fixed was rediscovered as a narrow minded person after the engagement was fixed. Once they exchanged rings her fiancée was rediscovered again as not narrow minded but more or less mindless. She expressed her suffocation with her fiancée. But when some of her friends ask her to come out of the relationship immediately, saying it is not late even now, she takes shelter in statements like “His ego will get hurt,” “If I come out of this how will my parents face the situation?” “He has helped me,” and “I am already dependent on him.”
Is the man’s ego more important than the life of the girl? Is the dignity of the family more important than the life of the girl? Should the girl repay the help of a man by giving away her freedom and peace of mind? But the question what pricks me the most is “Why is it that always we hear about women/ wives being dependent on men/husbands and why is it that we don’t get to hear the other way round?”
This friend of mine has discussed feminism and “fight patriarchy” issues several times with me and our friends circle over our chai sessions. But today I have a feeling that she has not still fought the patriarchy within her. The ‘enemy’ which she saw everywhere also resides within her and she must have failed to recognize the enemy inside who had, through the patriarchal environment, seeped into her subconscious and unconscious.
One of the important writers of Kannda- Vaidehi- once told me, “After opening the seven doors of heaven what we see is Godess Lakshmi sitting at Lord Vishnu’s feet. The day our minds eye, our subconscious, our unconscious, our myths, our mythologies see Lord Vishnu and Godess Lakshmi sitting together and not as Lakshmi sitting at Vishnu’s feet that women would be liberated. Vaidehi was referring to the hidden patriarchal image in our mythology in our myth and our collective unconscious. When we fight the patriarchy inside the patriarchy outside will also be conquered.
As I sit and muse over this and analyze these I attempt to look within myself and try to locate the patriarchy within me. I know it exists within me too. It has, for sure, seeped in, through the patriarchal environment, into my subconscious and unconscious too. I need to fight it. We need to fight it.
