A land of the holy...

Nine Lives: In Search of the Sacred in Modern India (2009)

Author: William Dalrymple

This is a true travelogue—one in which the writer has all the time in the world to identify what he wants to write about and knows the best places to source his writing materials. Of course, being a historian, a prolific award-winning author, and a podcaster on the side helps.

This book is a nice, readable one that looks at some of the sacred practices in India. The writer's job is just to tell things as he sees fit. He respects the local culture and does not insert his elitist twang to belittle the traditions that have gone on for generations. That is the trouble with most anglophile travelogues. They give their condescendingly haughty views on the happenings on the ground. Foreigners and sometimes the English-speaking Western-educated local punks are guilty of this. For the record, Darylmpol was born in Scotland and now resides in Delhi. I guess he is one of the many Caucasians, like François Gautier, Mother Theresa and perhaps Annie Besant who received a calling to reside in India. In the days of the East India Company, James Mills would call this Brahmanisation of the superior European minds. In his syllabus for young officers who were to be posted in the Empire, John Mills told the recruits to beware of being charmed by the mystic of the East. Warren Hastings, who started off hating India, ended up singing praises of the superiority of the Indian culture and the Sanskrit language.

Digambara Nun

In the first description, 'The Nun's Tale', we see a young, intelligent lady with an excellent future paved in front of her, deciding to give it all up for a life of celibacy and sacrifice as a Jain nun in Sravanabelagola, Karnataka. The most extreme of the Jain ascetic monks are the Digambaras, the completely nude male monks who have reached a level of consciousness where there is a total lack of external appearance in exchange for inner beauty. This youthful nun went fully bald by plucking her every scalp hair follicle. As a Digambara nun @ Mataji, she lives on a rigorous diet that avoids anything that grows below the ground. By plucking these subterrestrial plants, the plants die. By harvesting rice or wheat, the plant does not die, so it is alright to consume these cereals and fruits. The monks and nuns cannot beg for their meals but instead eat what the general public gives them, preferably uncooked.

Another thing that came up is the concept of sallekhana, an act of embracing death by starvation. After performing his worldly duties when he thought it was time, Chandragupta Maurya withered away in this manner. Sallekhana is done voluntarily under the guidance of a guru and, the Jains emphasise, is not a form of suicide. Sravanabelagola is the very place where Chandragupta Maurya decided to end his life.

Theyyam dancer

In the following story, 'The Dancer of Kannur', the author spends time with a man who spends three months of a year as a Theyyam dancer. Theyyam is a religious ritual in Kerala. The dance gives the dancer so much purpose in life. His other jobs are as a jail warder and a well builder. None of the other jobs gives him as much satisfaction. Something that strikes him is that, as he is all dolled up in the outfit of Theyyam and goes in a trance, people look at him beyond his Dalit caste. At that time, he feels like a conduit to connect with the Divine. The concept of Theyyam (God in Sanskrit) is something that popped out of non-Brahminic places of worship. Since it has spread to become a local attraction, its practice continues. In a way, it empowers the Dalits to hold the mantle in worship. Theyyam worship transcends all religions and castes. The Theyyam performers can tell the worshipper's plight to God and the Dalits' to the world. The three months just whizzed through, and he did not realise what he had done throughout.

In 'The Daughters of Yellama', the author speaks to and learns about the plights of sex workers in Karnataka. He goes on to discover the concept of devadasis, when young girls are offered to serve in temples. What started as a noble intention to serve God, pre-pubescent girls were packed off to live in temples, akin to Nuns in a Catholic Church. Some took charge of the temple's upkeep, some helped out the Brahmin priests, and others danced to show their devotion to God. When the Portuguese came to India and saw the grand Chola temples with buxomly murals and statues lining the walls, their first impression was that these temple girls were courtesans, dancing girls or concubines. The erotic Sangam poems cemented their opinions. For information, the female statue that we frequently attribute to Mahinjo-daro is said to be that of a dancing girl.

Devadasi

Devadasi (servants of the Gods) were once held in high esteem as intermediaries between the general public and the ruling class. Now, they must resort to begging or entering the flesh trade for survival. They compare themselves to the Goddess Yellama. Yellama was Lord Parashurama's (Vishnu's 7th avatar) mother. Yellama's husband was a sage who delved deep into spiritual practice and practised celibacy. Once, when walking to fetch water from the river, Yellama saw a couple embraced in passionate lovemaking. After years of celibacy, she momentarily longed for intimacy. Her husband, Jamadagni, a powerful sage, knew of this from his high level of spirituality. After much melodrama of the obedient Parasurama axing his mother and obtaining a boon to revive her, Yellama was sent off by her husband wandering in the wilderness. The devadasis compare themselves to Yellama (their patron goddess), pushed astray when not needed anymore.

In the next stop, the author takes us to the deserts of Rajasthan to tell us 'The Singer of Epics'. Here, we meet a singer of ancient epic poems. It has been his family tradition to sing a 600-year-old oral tradition of Pabuji, a protector deity that protects them from the elements of the harsh Rajasthani elements. The 4,000-line poem is committed to memory, and no one can continue the tradition. It is not merely a song; it is divinity. There were other such poems like 'The Epic of Dev Narayan'. There is a real risk that these poems will lose out to Bollywood songs.

'The Red Fairy' is about the activities in a Sufi shrine in Sindh. The Indian brand of Islam has spread to Southeast Asia. The Muslims I knew when I was growing up were quite accommodating of others and others' way of life. They had no qualms about having non-Muslims consult their holy men in their compound to seek blessings and obtain holy water for ailments from their holy men. One of the reasons for this was the spread of Sufism in India. The Sufis in India accepted mysticism as part of divinity and a legitimate way to reach divinity. In a way, it bridged the demarcation between Hinduism and Islam. Some even tried incorporating Lord Siva's tandava (cosmic dance) into Sufi's journey to divine bliss with music and poems.

Nadaraja

Slowly, the Iranians showed the world that the Muslims could stand alone. The Saudis, too, started sending their brand of radical Islam, Wahabbism, worldwide. In the end, we have ended up with a fire-brand intolerant form of Islam that wants to have sharia law the world over.

'The Monk's Tale' narrates a monk's dilemma when he had to pick up a rifle to protect his monastery in Tibet from the invading Chinese Red Army in the 1950s. He became one of the Tibetan refugees who became natives of Dharamsala. In a rather fateful turn of events, he was utilised by the Indian Army to fight Pakistan. Imagine a person who gave up his life for ahimsa having to kill a man.

The intricate art of murti making is described in 'The Maker of Idols'. In Swamimalai, Tamil Nadu, the forefathers of the Stpathys have been making murtis since the reign of the Chola dynasty. Bronze casting was perfected at the time of Rajaraja of the Chola Empire. Witnessing 'Valli Thirumanam' (Valli's wedding to Murugan), the author discusses the finer aspects of murti making, the worship of the Lord, Chola poetry and many more. The future of idol-making is in limbo as the descendants are keener to obtain tertiary education and keep their hands clean, away from this divine art form.

In 'The Lady Twilight,' the scene moves to a Calcutta temple notorious for Tantric practices and animal sacrifices. Followers there speak of getting the blessings of Ma Tara, the sometimes embracing matriarch and sometimes the ferocious protector, who empowers them to combat the toughness of daily life. Even though the learned and the communists scorn such beliefs, these very same people throng the temple to make animal sacrifices and gain blessings from the Goddess to succeed in their endeavours.

Lord Muruga @ Swamimalai

'The Song of the Blind Minstrel' talks about the several thousand saffron-clad wandering minstrels or Bauls found wandering about in the middle of January and gathering around near Shantiniketan, Tagore's famous home (and school). The author speaks of three singing holy men armed with a miniature cymbal, drum and a single-stringed musical instrument (ektara) with perfect voice to match, going around pulling a crowd with their captivating songs praising the divine. Each has a tale of how they ended up doing what they were doing. One was blind by smallpox and inflicted with a spell of bad luck. Another, born to a Brahmin priest, was ex-communicated for being too friendly with other castes. Much like a singing band, the trio travel from place to place, singing and spreading the words of a secular divine being. They mostly travel free, given Indian's reverence for holy men. Old Munk rum and ganja provide much-needed inspiration for their song and relief from life's hardship.

A good read and highly recommended. A template for how travelogues should be written.

(P.S. Many years ago, I asked my housemate, who had spent many years studying in India, for his honest opinion about India. His reply stayed with me, "If you want to learn humanity, go to India!")

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Sometimes silence overpowers noise!

Kottukkaali (The Adamant Girl, Tamil; 2024)

Director: P.S. Vinothraj

What do you do when your young daughter becomes catatonic, refuses to speak or eat, stares into oblivion and is hellbent on marrying her equally young boyfriend? You tell her that her choice of boyfriend is inappropriate and that she is way too young to be committed. That she is destined to achieve much more in life; she retreats and refuses to respond and goes all silent; what do you do? Perhaps you would sit down as a family and reason with her. Get a mental health professional involved. Words like puppy love, teenage angst, stress and even bipolar disease would be thrown into the ring.

What do Paandi, his sister, and the rest of the family members do when Paandi's sister's daughter, Meena, goes silent and says she is in love with her friend, who is not approved by the family? Paandi was supposed to marry his niece; it is legitimate in that part of interior Tamil Nadu. The whole family feels that Meena is under a spell. They go on a journey to see a holy man who would break the spell. En route, they would stop at a local deity temple. The whole story is told through this journey. In fact, a good hour into the movie, viewers are clueless about who is who and what is happening. It is all about self-exploration through cinematic experience. No wonder it got a raving review at the 2024 Berlin International Film Festival.

One can pick up many easter eggs as the movie progresses. At that start, we see a cockerel tied to a stone at one of its legs to prevent it from fleeing. We can see it standing on one leg, struggling to pitch the kick of the rope away from its other leg. In fact, this is what the main character, Meena, is doing. In the Tamil lingo, when someone is said to be standing on one leg, he is said to be stubborn or adamant. Hence, the title. An adamant person would kick away the obstacles that bog him down and move along.

The men in the story control everything. They tell the ladies what to do and even where to sit. In this patriarchal society, they are in charge. They know the best route to the places they need, when to go there and all the stops on the way. They can revive a dehydrated rooster and keep peace. They soon realise that diseases of the mind are beyond comprehension.

An angry bull parks itself on a country road, obstructing their path. Being farmers, they thought shooing the bull away was child's play. Not really, they realised. The nearer they went, the angrier the bulls became. The crow could land on its hump without creating a ruckus. All it finally took was its owner's daughter, a pre-pubescent girl, to pull the bull away. 

Not everything can be put in place with a stick and rod, so we need to dangle a carrot. We need the correct person to perform the proper duties. A snake charmer cannot tame a tiger. If a holy man can solve the problems of the nerves, so be it. 

We exert our authority and sell our ideas by just shouting and raising our voices. Sometimes, we realise we cannot overpower silence. Toxic masculinity cannot win over feminine silence.

The party finally reached their destination. After witnessing another client being exorcised, Paandi is not so sure his niece should undergo such a treatment. The ending is left to our imagination. It's a good movie; 4.5/5. See a comedian transform into a character actor. Also, learn a new film genre—road movie. 

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The pain equally painful!

Rain Town (Cantonese, English; 2024)
Director: Tunku Mona Riza 

Our needs, dreams, ambitions, and desires to ensure the best for our children and peace in the family are universal. We all yearn for the same thing. 

The most exciting thing about the movie is that it was produced and directed by two Malaysian Malays, but there was a single inkling of Malayness in its setting, spoken dialogue and props. It went on to premiere at the Silk Road International Film Festival in Fuzhou, China. 

Set in the wettest town in Malaysia, Taiping, hence the title Rain Town, it is a favourite pastime for the local retirees to bet on whether it would rain that day. It follows one of the betters, a proud Mr Choo, to his home. He is a disciplinarian, a domineering figure who runs his home like an army regiment. 

He is a father of 3 adult kids, two men and a lady. His wife, a former Ms Taiping, an Anglo-Chinese, had fitted into the family as a docile, all-embracing mother who is the stabilising figure snugged nicely between the silently rebelling children and the all-knowing father. Mr Choo scared the daughter’s suitor away because he was ill-qualified. The girl finds solace in baking cookies and selling them. The elder son is doing his medical internship and struggling to cope with a vocation that his father forced him into. His real love, however, is music. He resorts to recreational drugs to keep on going. The second son has not really settled on what he wants to do in life, but Mr Choo does not hesitate to tell him the obvious. In Mr Choo’s vocabulary, life is a race and the fast wins.

In the midst of all these, Mrs Choo is diagnosed with breast cancer. She keeps it away from the family and tries to handle it herself. Meanwhile, the elder son is expelled from work for stealing drugs. The family has to get together, put aside their differences and solve the problems at hand.

It does not matter who directs the movie or who acts in it. Cultural misappropriation may not be relevant at all. The dynamics of a family can be observed. The pain felt, the frustrations endured, the struggles fought, and the dreams shattered feel pretty equally devastating.

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Truth is a state of mind?

Conspiracy Theory (1997)
Director: Richard Donner

In the pre-internet era, Malaysian coffee shops were fertile grounds for conspiracy theories. At a time when all news was coming out in print and the airwaves were tightly controlled, information was a priced commodity. Everyone had their version of what was going on beyond the iron curtain of bureaucracy, of what was reported and what was not. 

Surprisingly, at least in Malaysia, all the coffee shop banter that would initially be denied by the powers that be will turn out to be true. Investigational journalism is better done by the single cup of coffee purchaser sitting in the shop the whole day than by people trained and paid to do the reporting job. 

In the infancy age of the internet, in the early 1990s, internet buffs scrambled to be on the mailing list of MGG Pillai's discussion forum, Sang Kancil. His brand of hard-hitting fire brand exposè journalism excited young minds who were quite fed up with paternalistic information dispersal. Some of his reports were so unbelievably accurate, as if he had peeked into all governmental secret documents. A great vacuum was left after his demise in 2006. It was indeed a sad day for journalism. The hole was soon filled by Raja Petra Kamarudin (RPK), who, probably with his lineage with the royalties, may be privy to much-privileged information. 

RPK did such a good job that he landed on the wrong side of the law several times. Over time, he became so controversial that people wondered whose side he was on. 

Sadly, with so much digital exposure these days, we are still trying to figure out what is real news and what is fake. Those who do not conform to the mainstream narrative are quickly labelled conspiracy theorists. Despite everything being at our disposal, we are still left as confused as ever. Alternative news still turns out to be accurate, as it was before. Nothing has really changed. 

This 1997 obscure film tells the tale of a taxi driver who is termed a lunatic who goes on broadcasting about a grand governmental plan to kill and destroy. In between, he is also apprehended by psychologists or government agents who feed him hallucinogens and try to extract information from him. To a certain extent, we, the viewers, are also confused about what is real and what the cab driver's imagination is. In that city, he is trying to contact a lawyer with the Justice Department. Long story short, the cab driver is correct. He is part of the US mind-control team of the State, which is programmed to carry out secret missions for the government. 

Truth is a state of mind?

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The twists of life

Manorathangal (Minescapes, Malayalam; 2024)

An anthology based on stories by MT Vasudevan Nair

After the release of the Hema committee report, the murmur, which started in 2019, is heard once again. More new victims of the Malayalam film industry are voicing their bad experiences out in the open. The report results from the Government's investigations into the alleged rise of sexual misconduct, exploitation and #MeToo complaints against big players of Mollywood.

The report's contents paint badly for the safety and working environment for the fairer sex. The report paints a picture of Mollywood as run by a mafia of senior directors, producers, and male actors who call the shots and decide which actress gets chosen and who gets the boot. To make it to the cast, the new actresses would have to endure much humiliation, denigration, and assault. The report prompted many Malayalam Movie Association chief members to resign to clear their names.

On one hand, civil societies assert that India is still not a safe place for ladies to work. This becomes more relevant now after the gruesome rape and murder of the Calcutta on-call doctor. Others are quick to add all these are not specific to Kerala or India alone. Patriarchy and power play are spread worldwide. Sudden retaliation by the public is politically motivated, ignited by self-interested parties out to create mayhem in India. Now that Malayalam movies are becoming more popular than other regional productions, people are bound to be jealous.

This collection of stories was written by Kerala's most influential storyteller, MT Vasudevan Nair. Most of the narration talks about nostalgia and how the test of time changes one's perception of reality. The picture of truth fed to us as children is a smokescreen. Time and tide change everything; hence, it is no use being haughty about what we have or being frustrated with things we do not.

The nine snippets in this collection are acted by many brilliant who's who in Malayalam cinema—Mohanlal, Mammooty, Siddique, Fahad Fazil, and more. This offering also sees the return of two famous actresses, Madhu and Nadia, after a hiatus. It talks about loneliness in a foreign country, loneliness in marriage, secret lives that adults have, love in the countryside, the hassle of having a family heirloom and how the family members vulture over it, how our values change with time and education and many more.  

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Once they were kings!

Sensuous Horizons - The stories and the plays
Author: KS Maniam

Thanks to MEV for introducing this book.

This is an exciting collection of plays, prose and newspaper writings on plays written by KS Maniam. In the 1990s, all through into the Millenium, Kishen Jit was an influential theatre practitioner. His collaboration with various local and international playwrights, including KS Maniam, set the template for stage plays in the post-colonial multicultural Malaysia. He was one of the founder members of Five Arts Centre.

Most of the book discusses KS Maniam’s play, ‘The Cord’. It is a social drama about the goings-on in an estate where the workers are predominantly immigrant Indians. Still living in the shadow of their cultural beliefs from their home country, it seems that most of them are missing their ticket on the bus to modernity and prosperity.

In this story, the thundu, or ceremonial piece of cloth worn by Tamil men in cultural functions, acts like a MacGuffin. A thundu, in better times, is kept clean and pristine, and it never lets touch the ground. It gains its honourable status by being over the shoulder. As the Tamil worker slowly loses his status and starts working as a coolie, the thundu becomes a towel to wipe his sweaty sunbaked skin. It becomes dirty and loses its ceremonial status. It goes a notch lower on his body, tied over his chest or waist. As a mark of respect, too, he would automatically remove it in front of his bosses, as if he is unworthy of wearing a thundu, a sort of blazer to cover his bare body.

As the stresses of work and family life spiral down the path of destruction, when domestic violence, toddy, and post-drinking fights become the norm, the thundu becomes a weapon. The divine thundu loses its divinity to evolve into a weapon used in a fight to strangle in a drunkard brawl.

Metaphorically, a proud Indian with his rich heritage, culture, and tonnes of wisdom and knowledge to civilise the world finds himself becoming a slave to the colonial masters during the imperial phase of history. The once most affluent country in the world has become one of the poorest.

The question that begs to be asked is this. Why do you rever a tradition that has obviously failed you? Cultures and traditions evolve from the practices that have worked for societies for a while. They would assume that that must be the way to do things as they carried the society over generations. Now, here, it had obviously failed you. You were displaced, scurrying like a headless chicken for safe space and the bare minimum to survive. Instead of reassessing, changing and emulating other successful groups, you chose to do the same repeatedly and expect a different outcome. That is madness. Living in the glory of the past will only make you stumble and fall.

Many of the characters in the stories are so compelling. I swear they feel like some of the people in 'The Sandpit' and 'Rock Melon' used to be my neighbours. A guy used to have a well-concealed double life for more than ten years, only to be discovered when he died suddenly, and his mistress turned up to perform the final rites at the funeral. Yet another had no qualms about parading his mistress in front of his docile wife. The legitimate wife was to care for his kids, while the mistress took care of his needs. The last time I heard, the man had a debilitating stroke. The legal wife stayed back to care for the man. The mistress and his two kids just scooted off once they grew wings.

I know how a few couples in my neighbourhood went along with their day-to-day living very secretively. They generally kept to themselves, mainly living behind closed doors. They would suddenly disappear for a long time and return for short visits. I used to wonder what they did for a living. Perhaps they were in the same as 'Mala'.

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Danger of swift justice!

We Want Justice!

A thing or two came up on my radar recently. Firstly, yet again, the unending saga of 1MDB took another court postponement. The deposed Malaysian PM has not finished disposing of his cases. This time, he has excruciating knee pain that needs hospitalisation. When told to be wheeled into the courtroom, the defence lawyers quipped that since he would be on opioid painkillers, he would not be in the correct frame of mind to follow the proceeding. They said their client must be seen to be given a fair trial. So be it, said the judges. 

Across the Straits of Malacca and Bay of Bengal, over in Kalkota, demonstrators are screaming that new legislation must be passed to expedite trials on rapists and impose the death penalty on them. The West Bengal Legislative Assembly even stipulated that investigations into sexual assault and rape must be concluded in 21 days.

Are we overdoing it in the haste to right the wrong, punish the wrongdoers, and set an example to potential offenders? 

The story of Kannagi, which was written by Illango in Silapathikaram in the Sangam epoch, probably in the 2nd century CE, comes to mind. Even though it is generally accepted as a literary work, some insist the likes of Kannagi walked as flesh and blood in the lands of Madurai. There is evidence that a big fire actually engulfed Madurai around that time. There is even a temple commemorating Kanagi as a symbol of chastity. To this day, people in Northern Sri Lanka still have a commemorative celebration on a particular day of her ascension to the heavens. Kannagi is said to have arrived in Sri Lanka after leaving Madurai and stopping at Kerala.

What does Kannagi's story have to do with dispensing justice? Everything!

Kannagi, a wealthy merchant's daughter, married Kovalan, a trader. During his business trips, Kovalan met a dancer, Madhavi. Kovalan started an affair with Madhavi, spending way too much time and money on her. When he realised his coffers were dry, Kovalan finally came to his senses and returned to his faithful wife. 

Kannagi and Kovalan decide to start all over again. They left their hometown, Perompahar, to settle in Madurai. For money, Kovalan left to sell Kannagi's anklet. 

Coincidentally, the news was that the Queen had lost her anklet. The royal goldsmith, who had stolen the anklet, accused Kovalan of being the thief. Kovalan was apprehended, given a half-hearted trial, and beheaded for being caught red-handed with the anklet.

Chera-Chola-Pandya kingdoms
300BCE - 300 CE

Kannagi charged into the royal court after hearing what had befallen her husband. She demanded justice from the King who had erred. She threw in her other anklet, similar to the confiscated one. It had rubies implanted into it, unlike the Queen's, which had pearls. Pandya King Nedilcharan had a heart attack and died on the spot. The Queen followed suit. The raged Kannagi started burning the curtains, and fires spread rapidly. She is said to have sliced off her breast in a fit of rage and fled the town. Fable has it that Meenachi, the city's guardian Goddess, had to come down to pacify her.

The event highlighted the trouble with hasty trials without proper detailed investigations and adequate representations. One innocent life lost is one life too many.

No matter how enraged society is, due process of the law must continue. Striking the iron when it is hot may burn one's fingers.

Silapathigaram is one of the five great epics said to have come from South India in the Sangam era, the golden era of Tamil literature. The epics of the Sangam period, which lasted between 300 BCE and 300 CE, are Seevaka-Kintamani, Silappathigaram, Manimegalai, Kundalakesi and Valayapathi. Tolkappiam is said to be the oldest scripture available from this era. In this period, different parts of this region were ruled by three major Empires, Chera, Chola and Pandya, with Buddhism, Jainism and Hinduism with various popularity over time. Some staunch Tamil literary figures insist that scriptures of the Sangam period are of higher literary value than even epics like Ramayana and Mahabharata. It is less cluttered and gives a vivid description of life and culture in ancient Tamil lands without involving too many characters. Works emanating from this era gave valuable South religious, sociopolitical and economic conditions. They were written in poetry and sometimes prose form in Tamil script.

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