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Published: August 6th 2016
Sojha, Inner Seraj Valley, Himachal Pradesh, India
August 2016
"A grateful heart is a beginning of greatness. It is an expression of humility. It is a foundation for the development of such virtues as
prayer,
faith, courage, contentment, happiness,
love, and well-being."
James E. Faust “God has no religion.”
Mahatma Gandhi “The function of prayer is not to influence God, but rather to change the nature of the one who prays.”
Søren Kierkegaard “I sought to hear the voice of God and climbed the topmost steeple, but God declared: 'Go down again - I dwell among the people'. ”
John Henry Newman In the area where I am living, each cluster of villages has at least one annual '
mela' (festival) where the residing god statue is paid special homage to, midst dance and music and a general festive gathering. At such events it is also the custom for a god statue from a neighbouring area to be carried ceremoniously to that place to 'visit' the local god for a night or two.
This interchange, happening all over the valley (different gods visiting
different villages all the time as each festival occurs at different times of the year) functions as a progressive social interchange for all residents of the area; creates social capital of binding connections that can result in economic and familial agreements; and allows the young to 'spy' possible future marriage mates.
Jaa is a small village about 30 minutes walk from my house. It has less than a dozen inter-generational family homes. Villages emerge slowly as familial groupings expanded by marriages of sons (women move to join the husband's family) and some natural migration. These villages are perched precariously on mountain sides and terraced agriculture is the means of existence. Every August 5
th, Jaa's
mela is attended by residents of maybe a dozen or more surrounding villages.
This year is special
because the silver god statue which resides in the small village temple house has been 'superseded' (the old statue is also kept) by a bigger gold statue. This is no trite thing. We are talking a large quantity of gold here costing around 2 crore rupees (or Aust $400,000). To pay for all this: The coffers from years of contribution were raided and various very wealthy
valley people gave extra large donations; but significantly, more than 60 families of the area have donated on average 25.000 rupees (Aust $500) each as their unquestioned obligation to their god and their rich culture. Of course, donors are all assuming in good faith that the gods will favour them with prosperity and health in return for their devotion.
One might ask how can such a sum of money emanate from small simple (and presumably non-affluent) rural mountain people? Good question. The people in this valley are relatively rich … at least in spirit and culture (and definitely in natural beauty). They also often tend to have sons and uncles and nephews and cousins (yes, mainly men) who work away in bigger places and cities in various government posts or businesses, including those who score jobs in places like Dubai. These connections are a big source of money sent back to the village family. To boot, the locals do quite well too with agriculture... and their crops often include lucrative cash crops of
charas (derived from marijuana and not unlike hash) and to a less extent (but very much more profitable) opium. However, one needs to get a good
understanding of the traditional nature of the latter in Indian society and how even the most respectable families can be involved. Apart from that, legal cash cropping is also a good business here... apples, onions and garlic, cabbage and cauliflower, peas and beans being the most profitable produce.
But why and how? Of course this is devotional to the god.. a homage to represent him in such an illustrious form. But on inquiry I am told that the impetus is as much about matching other villages who were noticed to now have a bigger more expensive god statue than the one at Jaa. And so it goes. Each area does not want to be left behind.... a kind of a 'god arms race' in action here.
A local low caste in the valley is responsible for the making of such a statue... and with the god arms race in place they are not short of work. In this case, members of this caste came to the village and spent over two months living there casting and forging the new statue.
Family members who have moved out of the area often return to visit just for this
mella.
So it was in the case of my landlord's family. One brother who runs a very successful hotel in Manali (a major tourist town some 100 km from Jaa) returns each year to attend this
mela. The day of the
mella is sunny... although being monsoon period this can change at a moments notice as ominous clouds pour over the mountain peaks into the valley. We all set off from my house after a slow and lazy enjoyable morning having breakfast, sitting and talking. The original plan was to leave at 11 am but in true India time we left around 1.30 pm. … which was fine because at the
mella itself things got off to a slow start.
But once started the buildup over 5 hours was incredibly magnetic.... colourful, intense, full of movement and dance, and simply engrossing. The rich weft and warp of the social fabric of the area was on full display as old friends met for perhaps the first time since the previous years
mela. Everyone was out in their Fridays best attire and everyone it seemed had beaming smiles on their faces. From a slow beginning a few devotees starting an entrancing line
dance and repetitive song on the village green around two god statues accompanied by drumming, flutes and horns. The visiting god statue from the village of Sehwag had been carried to Jaa in procession the evening before... about 12 km but up and down difficult terrain. By 6 pm people had poured in from down and up the various tracks approaching Jaa. A crowd of perhaps a thousand, with around 250 now engaged in the hypnotic dancing and singing … joined arm in arm... men and women... in a long line that circled the green and doubled up on itself as it grew in length. A downpour of rain around 4 pm sent the crowd under cover of house verandas and storage barns but not the dancers who proceeded regardless.
Many men passed me with obvious alcoholic breath... a sad aspect of modern mountain culture as there are many social problems associated with alcohol abuse here (as with the rest of India). Later the more traditional smoking of
charas in small
chillums (a kind of pipe) would occur. This happens within a cultural norm where the use of the drug is almost religious (one of the three main gods
of Hinduism is, after all, an ardent smoker... Shiva).
A meal break occurred at sunset, followed by a full night of more dance, music and singing ending around 6 in the morning. This
mella means lots of 'out of village' relatives and friends stay over at their various local houses. And the next day is a holiday spent back in local homes with these visitors in a relaxed and generous spirit... it felt a bit like family Christmas to me. At my landlord's place, the highlight was when his 95 year old grandmother (who also walks up and down steep terrain on narrow, slippery and rocky paths) turned up from her place about 25 minutes away. Otherwise the household of 4 had swelled to 25 for the day.
I left the
mela before dark as rain again threatened....... and then...... I fell off the mountain. Yes, I lost my footing on a slippery path and went tumbling down the slope, only lucky that there was a terrace ledge to stop me free-falling over a pretty steep precipice which would have surely resulted in rather dire injury if not worse. And what I fell into was a patch of
stinging nettle. This weed is horrible stuff... my arms and fingers felt like they had electric probes attached pulsing a tingling voltage through them. This lasted well into the night. It was actually not all that unpleasant after the first 15 minutes. Thereafter it was a stimulating 'know you are alive' kinda feel. My host assured me it was good for the blood.
I slept very well that night.
* The family name 'Thakur' is, in these parts, as common as 'Jones' is in English speaking nations.
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Kuan Yin
Karen Johnson
Retirement of gods
Several years ago I visited the Kuan Yin temple in Georgetown, Penang. Outside the temple is a massive old tree, and nestled among its roots are statues of deities of all sorts. Ganesha is next to Kuan Yin, and Guan Yu makes an appearance, too. I thought this was a little strange, but it was explained to me that the tree served as sort of a retirement home for the gods. If your household got a bigger, more elaborate god, or if you moved in with someone else, you could bring your superseded god here. This way the god would always have company, and incense could be burned and offerings left. I have no idea if this is actually true, but I rather like the idea of a retirement home for gods where they could all share in the offerings and prayers.