NAPOLEON DINED HERE!

 

NAPOLEON DINED HERE!

In 2000 on our way to Washington, I and my colleague broke journey for a day for a rapid tour of Paris, a city which neither of us had visited.

After checking into the hotel, we took a quick shower and headed for the city, where we boarded an open-to-sky bus for a group tour of four hours of the major sights of the city. When the tour finished at a city square, it was time for lunch.

We had eaten a sumptuous breakfast at the hotel and weren’t particularly hungry, but noted that the restaurants were filled with diners having a leisurely lunch over wine or beer.

‘How about lunch? Since we’d hang about the town till evening, why don’t we take a bite and then resume our sight-seeing?’ I said. My colleague agreed. We looked for a restaurant which was not too crowded and could serve us promptly. We didn’t plan to spend hours at lunch.

Let’s go in there, I said. 
‘Why? What’s special about that one?’
‘Read the signage.’
The bill-board announced in big, bold letters, ‘NAPOLEON DINED HERE!’

We went in. The interior was painted in bright red, possibly to proclaim its heritage, but was forlorn, with only a few tables occupied. Even the few guests who were dining didn’t seem thrilled about their meal. The high and mighty of France, and even regular tourists, no longer seemed to favour the joint.

The server led us to a table towards the back of the restaurant. Can we take this one, please, I asked, pointing at a table near the entrance and with a view of the busy road and the promenade? Sure, he said, though with some reluctance and visible annoyance.

Menu, please?
There, on your table, was his curt reply.
He had guessed that the two gentlemen unaccompanied by ladies were unlikely to spend much at lunch.

We picked up the flyer, as thin as the paper napkins on the table and looking rather cheap, and scanned the menu. Each item was prohibitively expensive, and even a modest meal comprising an appetizer, entrée, and dessert, excluding drinks, would cost at least 30 per head, which was way beyond our budget. Let’s have a beer and a sandwich each, I suggested. That would cost €28 for both of us, still rather expensive, yet cheaper than a larger meal.

We placed the order, which took quite some time to arrive. Waiting to be served, I read the little write up on the back of the flyer which told that Le Procope, Brasserie is the ‘Oldest Café and Restaurant in Paris, fonde en (Founded in) 1686, and Napoleon had dined at this restaurant. No history book might have recorded if Napoleon had indeed dined at this restaurant, but which tourist had time or inclination to do a fact check? Back at home, they’d have the bragging rights to tell family and friends of having dined in an ancient heritage restaurant at Paris!

The server brought the beer and the sandwich together; the beer being tepid and the sandwich rather soggy and slim, provoking my friend to observe that the sandwich might even be from Napoleon’s era. We munched it willy-nilly and guzzled our beer fast to end the frugal lunch and resume our sight-seeing.

When we finished, I beckoned the server for the cheque, with which he was ready. We were economy diners, and he wanted us out as fast as possible. I settled the bill (joint expense, joint accounting), leaving behind a ten percent tip with much disinclination owing to the below par food and the lousy ambience.

Before leaving, I asked the server, ‘May I keep a copy of your menu card, please?’ He pretended to be a bit startled, thought for a few seconds, and then bent down to whisper in my ear, ‘It is our policy not to give this to our customers, but for you I’ll make an exception,’ and he winked mischievously at me. I got he was much amused, and the Indian tourists who ate little and paid less than the fifteen percent tip he was expecting wanted a souvenir from the hallowed restaurant.

Since you plan to keep it as a souvenir, may I make a little correction, said my colleague, took out his pen and crossed from the banner headline one letter from a word, and putting a comma, scribbled a few words. 

The promo now read ‘NAPOLEON DIED HERE, after eating a sandwich!

***


Note: 

  • Author's profile may be seen at http://amazon.com/author/pkdash
  • Books by this author are available on Amazon.in, Kindle eBook, Flipkart, and Notion Press, Chennai.
***

 

A Courtesy Call

 

 A Courtesy Call

‘Sir, you have a visitor’, announced the chaprasi-cum-phone attendant.

The young SDO had returned from a tiring, day-long tour of the dehat, supervising the work of the field officials: Patwaris, and other village level workers; it was already 8.30 PM on a chilly winter evening, and his wife was ready to serve dinner; and hence, he was mildly irritated. Why does the guard at the gate allow visitors to the residence at such late hours, he grumbled? But when he stepped out to the porch and the visitor greeted him with a polite bow, he knew why the guard at the gate couldn’t have stopped him.

‘Kalyan Singh Ji, kaise ana hua?’ he asked with his impeccable tehzeeb.

It was a polite way of saying hello. Kalyan Singh visited him, once or twice a month, always at the residence, and at a date and time of his choosing, which was usually late in the evening. Somehow, he always knew when the SDO saheb would be at home and he would have his undivided attention.

Aaj aap se nahin, Bai Saheb se milna hai,’ he said as if it was the most natural thing to demand an audience with the officer’s newly-wed wife, without appointment, and at this late hour. The young officer knew that Kalyan Singh was not one to take no for an answer, and there was no point in explaining to him the niceties of the protocol for calling on a lady.

After his two-year training, the young officer had been posted as Sub Divisional Officer & Sub Divisional Magistrate at Dabra, a small town at a distance of 44 kms from Gwalior, the district headquarters. That was his first substantive charge, and he was for the Sub Division what the District Collector was for the district. He had got married a few months earlier but his wife had stayed back at Lucknow to write her final examinations, and had joined him at Dabra only a few days ago.

He went in to the dining hall where his wife was waiting, and said, the visitor wants to meet you. Why, what for, asked his wife, why would a visitor like to meet me? She knew no one at Dabra and no one knew her. Why would anyone demand to meet her, she couldn’t fathom?

Don’t worry, it’s just a courtesy call, assured her husband. She stepped out and was startled to see a towering 6.5 ft tall, burly man with a handle-bar moustache, a large vermilion mark on the forehead, and a rifle slung on his shoulder. He wore a dhoti, a long kurta, and a jacket with a rough shawl draped over it, and had a humongous turban on his head.  

Before she could say anything, the visitor bent down with some difficulty to touch her feet while ensuring to keep the muzzle of the rifle well away from her body.

Aap hamare ilake mein pehli baar padharen hain, isliye darshan karne ayen hain’, he said and without any further fuss took out a garland from under his shawl and was about to drape it on her neck when she flinched and stepped back. The visitor got the message and bent down to offer the garland which she accepted, joined her palms for a quick namaste before darting back into the house. Still in a daze, she asked, ‘Who was he?’

‘Oh, Kalyan Singh Ji. He was once a much-feared dacoit of the Chambal ravines, but hung up his rifle; and comes for a courtesy visit at least once a month to keep me posted about the movement of various gangs in the area.’

***

Note:

1.    Based on the narration by D.S. Mathur (IAS:MP:1971), Former SDO, Dabra; and Prof. Lalita Mathur.

2.    The dreaded Chambal dacoits with a hefty reward on their heads - Madho Singh and Mohar Singh - had surrendered, along with 200 dacoits, and had laid down their rifles at the feet of Jai Prakash Narayan before a crowd of 10000 people at village Dhorera, Dist-Morena, on 14/04/1972, only a year before D.S. Mathur was posted to Dabra.

3.    Phoolan Devi surrendered before Arjun Singh, CM, MP at Bhind in 1982.

***


Note: 

1. Author's profile may be seen at http://amazon.com/author/pkdash

2. Books by this author are available on Amazon.in, Kindle eBook, Flipkart, and Notion Press, Chennai.

***
*

 

Jagannatha: An Enigmatic Deity

 

Jagannatha: An Enigmatic Deity

A devout Hindu’s pilgrimage is not complete without paying obeisance to Jagannatha at Sri Kshetra or Purushottam Kshetra, one of the four Dhams, the most sacred places for the Hindus.

Much has been written on  Jagannatha, the Triad of Jagannatha-Balabhadra-Subhadra, Srimandira at Puri and its elaborate rituals, the spectacular Ratha Yatra and the Nabakalebara. Myriad myths exist for every aspect of Jagannatha. Yet, much is enigmatic about the deity.

Who is Jagannatha: Maha Vishnu, Nrusingha, Vamana, Nila Madhava, Krishna, Shiva Bhairava, Mahavira Jain, Buddha, a Tantric deity, or a tribal deity- the Kitung of Savaras? Why the Triad? Is Balabhadra an incarnation of Shiva? Who is Subhadra: Durga, Shakti, Bhubaneswari or Stambheswari? Then, who is Bimala to whom the prasad from the temple kitchen must first be offered before it can be mahaprasad and offered to Lord Jagannatha? Buddha summarily rejected animal sacrifice sanctioned by the Vedic scriptures, and yet was incorporated as an avatar of Vishnu. Why, then, is animal sacrifice (of a fish, though) still practised in a Vaishnava temple, before Bimala on Bijaya Dashami day and cooked fish is offered to Her as prasad? Why is Lakshmi not on the Ratna Simhasana with Jagannatha? Because she cannot be in close proximity to Balabhadra, her husband’s elder brother?

Theologians and scholars have varied theories and opinions about the origin of Jagannatha and what this unusual idea of the Supreme Godhead means to various sects and persuasions. However, there is near consensus about the syncretic nature of the deity. Jagannatha welcomes all devotees with open arms. He has limitless compassion. He is the most humanised of all conceptions of godhood. He is not the remote Anantashayee Vishnu in Vaikuntha; He is present here on earth to all his devotees as sakha, sahodara, and atmiya.

Jagannatha: Meaning

Jagannatha is a conjunction of two Sanskrit words: Jagat (the Universe) and Natha (Lord). Symbolically, He is the unmoving constant, the Daru Brahma, the Lord of the world of flux and constant change (Jagat is that which is moveable and moves ceaselessly). Some scholars claim that Jagannatha is, in fact, an Austric word of the Savara tribe, derived from Jagant, the sacred tree in which resides their God- Kitung Mahaprabhu. However, the use of Jagadeesha in Jayadeva’s Dasabatara Stotra or Jagannatha Swami in Adi Shankara’s Jagannathastakam is in sync with the Sanskrit meaning of Jagannatha.

Jagannatha includes, assimilates, and absorbs a variety of methods and modalities of reaching the Divine. He is a tribal deity, a Vedic-Aryan-Sanskritic-Brahminic god: Maha Vishnu or Param Brahma, Jaina, Buddha, Tantric god; an All-in-One visualisation of the Supreme. He is nirakara and nirguna, yet Daru Brahma and Chakadola, avatari and avatar, Ram, Krishna, Shiva, and Brahma.

Jagannatha: Confluence of Two Ancient Cultures

Jagannatha epitomises the confluence of the Vedic and the non-Vedic cultures which progressed from conflict and clash to conciliation and a negotiated settlement for partnership and peaceful co-existence.

Vedic Culture: Territorial Expansion

What was the essential difference between the two cultures? The Vedic culture had adopted agriculture and animal husbandry and lived in permanent settlements whereas the aborigines were hunters-gatherers living in small clans and shifting settlements in their vast territory of forests and hills.

After establishing itself in the northern plains of India, the Vedic culture ventured into the area south of Vindhyas, the territory of the aborigines.

As per a myth, Agastya Rishi was persuaded to go to the south since the congregation of all rishis in the north was tilting the earth dangerously towards the north and making it unstable. The proud and towering Vindhya Mountain, gaining further height and threatening to block the path of Surya, the Sun god, bent down to pay obeisance to the great rishi who commanded it to retain that reverential posture till his return. Agastya easily scaled the Vindhyas and crossed over to the south but never returned, and Vindhya had to stop growing in honour of the solemn promise made to the great rishi. This myth tells of the significant geological changes in a remote era, and also the story of migration of people in search of new territory, the first foray from the familiar north to the wilderness of the south.

Ram of Ayodhya, the epic hero and an avatar of Vishnu in Tretaya Yuga, too, went into the wilderness for his vanavas of fourteen years journeying south till the end of land and then beyond to Lanka. Maybe, the vanavas was not merely owing to the machinations of the scheming Kaikeyi, and Ram and Lakshman being epic heroes willingly chose to be the proud and determined flag-bearers of the Vedic culture in unexplored and dangerous territory. They killed many asuras who were most likely non-Vedic with different cultural mores. They sought and succeeded in forging new alliances with Sugriva and his monkey brigade, another non-Vedic tribe; and Vibhishana of Lanka, persuading him to ditch his powerful brother Ravana and defect to Ram’s side.

In Dwapar Yuga, Lord Krishna’s prime field of play was Mathura-Gopapura-Hastinapur, and subsequently, he translocated the Yadava kingdom to Dwarka in the far west, possibly the first large-scale migration from the north to the west.

These puranic stories are mythical, but bear testimony to the territorial expansion of the Vedic civilisation.

From Conflict to Conciliation

What happened when the two cultures met? It began with mutual incomprehension, doubt and distrust. Aryans considered the aborigines as anaryas, asuras, dasyus, and defilers of homa, the sacred fire. The aborigines looked upon the Aryans as aggressors, and rightfully so. The Aryans wanted to expand their territory for settlements, agriculture and animal husbandry. The aborigines refused to abdicate and vacate their homeland of forests and hills which sustained their life. The inevitable result was a clash between the two cultures. The negotiations, often violent and bloody, might have continued for long after which both sides sought and accepted mutual accommodation.

Of the many examples of such accommodation, the most notable is Jagannatha, a tribal deity incorporated into the Hindu pantheon. Such conciliation is particularly evidenced in

i.                   the origin myth,

ii.                 the iconography,

iii.              the temple management system, and

iv.              the rituals and special events.

Jagannatha: Myth of Origin

There are numerous myths on various aspects of Jagannatha. He went along with Balabhadra to fight and win for the Gajapati king in the war against Kanchi. He went as a witness for a devotee and became Sakshi Gopala. He accepted the humble offering of a coconut from Dasia Bauri, an untouchable who was denied entry to Srimandira. He guided a perplexed and disappointed Tulasidas to visualise Lord Ram in His idol. These myths illustrate the many adorable aspects of the Lord and explain why He is so popular a deity.

But the most well-known of all is the myth of Jagannatha’s origin. What is the principal objective of this myth? Maybe, to build a bridge between the Vedic and the non-Vedic cultures. Several aspects of the myth are suggestive of the negotiated settlement between the two cultures: the acknowledgement that the mysterious god originally belonged to the Savaras; that Savaras and Brahmins became kins through a marital bond, and the progeny of Lalita and Vidyapati would be the living proof of the physical and spiritual harmony between them; the iconography of the idols would retain its original character and be made of log; that the rituals of worship would incorporate the tribal mores and methods; and further that non-Brahmins would play a significant role in the management of the temple.

The Savaras were powerless to resist King Indradyumna who marched from Avanti with his ‘army of 1,300,000 footmen’ (Hunter, P-74), but the king could not retrieve the daru from the sea even after harnessing 5000 male elephants. The daru came ashore, light as a flower, only when Visvavasu was invited to join in as an equal partner.

The Vedic religion, by incorporating the Savaras into the temple management system, also agreed to absolve Jara and his progeny of the sin of killing Lord Sri Krishna. A further series of myths was created to achieve this end. Jara was recognised as Bali of Tretaya reborn in Dwapara.

Why and how Lord Krishna died provides an interesting illustration of the interlinking of a series of myths to explain the exceptional story of God’s demise.

Krishna had once applied payasam on Durvasa Rishi’s body to felicitate him but had omitted to apply it on his feet owing to which the rishi cursed Krishna that he will die of a wound in his foot.

Gandhari had cursed Krishna that after 36 years of the Mahabharata war his entire clan will perish after which he will die alone. A mere mortal could curse God, and God must suffer a lonely, painful death.

Jara Savara was Bali in Tretaya and was killed when Ram shot him from behind in a treacherous and stealth attack. Even God is not free from the consequences of His karma, and had to repay for the deceitful killing of Bali.

Thus, three separate but interwoven myths explain the death of Krishna, the very incarnation of Vishnu. How else could the Lord of the Universe be killed by Jara, a mere man who was His creation?

The ‘origin’ myth justifies the translocation with a carefully crafted story which portrays King Indradyumna and Vidyapati, his emissary and a Brahmin scholar in a more favourable light, and Visvavasu and his Savara tribe as poor losers in the clash of two cultures of which one was vastly ‘superior’ to the other.

But it was not a simple conquest, since there was no victor or vanquished. In fact, the Vedic culture tweaked its traditional theological beliefs and practices significantly to accommodate the tribal customs and traditions. The Savaras ceded exclusive ownership of their dear deity, but insisted on physical proximity to their god for all times to come. The Srimandira sevaks comprise of a curious mix of non-brahmins and brahmin priests, who are vastly outnumbered by the former. Jagannatha may be very fond of and partial to chapan bhog but he is offered and must accept the humble and not easily edible amba takua, the dried kernel of a mango, something that the Savaras had to live on during the lean season.

Shudramuni Saraladas, Odisha’s Adi Kabi narrates in his Mahabharata the myth of King Galamadhava’s attack on the Savaras of Shabari Narayana to snatch their god. The Savaras fought with tenacity and heroism till the entire tribe was killed by the King’s army except Jara, the lone survivor. God ordered the king to make truce with Jara and invite him to be an equal partner in installing the deity at Puri. The myth is indicative of the negotiated settlement after a bitter and violent war, and conciliation after clash and conflict between the two cultures.

The myth conveys several messages, some of which are obvious and explicit, and some others subtle and subliminal.

Consider, for example, the role of King Indradyumna of Avanti, a devout king, eager to be the medium for the mysterious god’s revelation to the world. Through his emissary, he located the deity in a remote forest and installed it in a grand temple at Puri. But it is ironical that the king, a worshipper of Vishnu, should entertain the possibility of a more powerful god! Further, the king being learned in scriptures knew that God is an idea and not an idol, residing in the heart and mind of the devotee and not in a temple.

Also, the choice of venue for the new temple is perplexing. Why at Puri instead of Ujjaini, the capital of Avanti, and also among the holiest places for Hindus? Was the religious fervour of the king also guided by the ambition of territorial expansion from the west to the east?

In the narration of the myth by Manoj Das, Visvavasu ‘was enamoured of his scholarly guest’ and his daughter ‘was even more enamoured of Vidyapati’ and the ‘prudent’ Visvavasu proposed their marital union. (Das, 2009: 1st Edition, 2016: Revised Edition) W.W. Hunter tells it differently: ‘Basu, a fowler of the wilderness … seeing the man to be a Brahman, had forced him by threats to marry his daughter, and thus to bring honour to his tribe.’ (Hunter, First Published in 1872)

In both these versions of the myth, the point of view of the narrator is not in doubt. The story-teller implies that the Aryan-Sanskritic culture was ‘superior’ and the transaction was for the benefit of the aborigine community! By Lalita’s marriage to a Brahmin, the Savara tribe was elevated in rank and status!

Consider a different version. What if Vidyapati had seduced Lalita to use her as a tool to succeed in his mission of locating the mysterious deity and stealing it for the greater glory of his King?

In the narrative by W.W. Hunter, God Himself speaks to Basu Savara providing the rationale and justification for His translocation from the remote forest to Puri:

‘Oh, faithful servant. I am wearied of thy jungle flowers and fruits and crave for cooked rice and sweetmeats. No longer shalt thou see me in the form of thy Blue God. Hereafter I shall be known as Jagannath, the Lord of the World.’ (Hunter, First Published in 1872)

Once God has Himself spoken and conveyed His will, how can Visvavasu and his tribe contemplate opposition or resistance? Was this version part of a carefully crafted propaganda to pre-empt any resistance by the aborigines? How about the callous god who spurned the humble offerings of his ardent devotee to move over to a palatial temple built by a king, and savour chapan bhog, fifty-six varieties of delicacies daily, a cuisine fit for an Emperor?

Was Vidyapati’s deceipt and treachery ethical? Is it possible to reach God through such devious means? Is that why God had to order Indradyumna to enlist the help of Visvavasu to retrieve the daru from the seas?

The origin myth justifies the appropriation of a tribal deity to the Hindu pantheon and also seeks to build a bridge between two ancient but significantly different cultures.

Savara Version of the Myth?

The ‘creation’ myth of Savaras tells of Kitung, the prime deity, who created the first two men- Ramma and Bimma. There is no mention of Nila Madhava, Krishna or Vishnu. Kitung is still the Mahaprabhu, the Great God, for Savaras.

“Out of a gourd floating on water came out Kuraitusum Kittung, who created some animals and jungles and then Ramma and Bimma who happened to be the first men.” (Das & Mahapatra, First Edition: 1979, First Reprint: 1999)

There is no Savara version of Jagannatha’s ‘origin’ myth. The Savaras did not have a script till the recent years, and probably, there is no oral myth either on the ‘theft’ of their dear deity. The stealing, snatching, or forcible appropriation of the deity into the Hindu pantheon must have been traumatic. Hence, it is rather strange that there is no story by the Savaras and for the Savaras on this crucial theme.

That Visvavasu’s mysterious deity was Nila Madhava, the Blue God and the mysterious substance was the unburnt remains of Krishna’s body are clearly superimpositions by the Vedic-Brahmin religion to link the tribal god to Krishna and claim the deity for themselves.

Iconography

For the Vedic religion, stone and metal were preferred material for idols of deities, yet they had to agree to retain the original iconography of the deity, a crude carved log. Once again, a myth about the seemingly incomplete idols was created. Vishwakarma, the Divine carpenter, was disturbed at work and left the idols unfinished. A still better narrative was: Jagannatha desired to be worshipped in this form in Kali Yuga!

“Whatever the Brahminic logicians might argue to claim the Vedic identity of Jagannatha, His tribal origin cannot be denied ichnographically. Jagannatha is decidedly anterior to the four-armed Vishnu of the Puranas.” (Mohanty, 1982)

Maybe, the incomplete icons symbolise man’s futile attempt to grasp the Infinite and comprehend the Incomprehensible.

Temple Management System

According to the Madala Panji, the Temple almanac, King Ananga Bhima Dev had established Chatisa Nijoga, thirty-six categories of sevakas or servitors. As per the Record of Rights of the Jagannatha Temple, there are 119 categories of sevakas. (www.jagannatha.in). Except for the Pandas (the Priests) who are ranked among the lowest Brahmins, the other sevakas are non-brahmins. In the myth narrated by Sisu Krsna Das in his Deula Tola, God speaks to King Indradyumna, ‘The sons of Vasu Savara will be called as Daita, and they will serve me. The sons of Lalita will be known as Suaras and they will cook for me. The sons of Vidyapati will be my Panda and they will worship me.’ (Dash, 2014)

The elaborate system of sevakas or servitors laid down under chatisa nijoga continue till today with the non-Brahmin sevakas vastly outnumbering the Brahmin priests, and having the principal role in several daily and special events.

Why were the Daitas and Suaras accommodated into the temple rituals? Possibly, no other Hindu temple in India grants such privilege and pre-eminence to non-Aryans in the management of daily rituals as well as special events. Did Aryan-Vedic-Brahmins realise that ‘snatching’ the prime religious icon of an ancient race would permanently alienate them? Was it also an acknowledgement of the fact that Odisha was populated mostly by the non-Aryans with the Aryans constituting a small minority in the coastal region?

Rituals and Special Events

Both non-Vedic and Vedic practices are built into many rituals of the Srimandira. Surendra Mohanty opines:

“… Jagannatha is essentially non-Vedic in character; therefore, the Homa or fire sacrifice is nearly absent in his rituals, though Brahminic influence has constantly tried to introduce this Vedic element.” (Mohanty, 1982)

Jagannatha is offered chapan bhoga, fifty-six delicacies daily, a cuisine fit for a king; but the royal cuisine must include an amba takua, a dried mango kernel which provided sustenance to the tribal people in the lean season.

The Daitas, the progeny of Visvavasu, play a lead role in the performance of the rituals of Snana, Anasara Ghara, Ratha Yatra and Nabakalebara.  

Snana

On Deva Snana Purnima or Jyestha Purnima is held Snana Yatra, a ceremonial bathing of the deities on Snana Bedi, the bathing platform, with 108 pots of water. Some believe this to be a symbolic ceremony to cleanse the deities of their Sanskritisation and return to their pre-Vedic form and ambience. The Daitas perform this ritual as a preparatory for the deities to visit Gundicha Ghara, the place of their birth; a return to their aboriginal origin.

Anasara Ghara

Only the Daitas, the progeny of the savaras, and not the Brahmin priests look after the deities during their period of treatment and convalescence in Anasara Ghara.  They administer medicines, and serve a diet of fruits and berries only. No cooked meal is served during this period. The deities are too ill to meet the supplicants. From the time the deities enter the Anasara pindi till the conclusion of Ratha Yatra with their return from Gundicha Mandap; the Daitas are in full control of the affairs of the deities, with the brahmins priests not allowed entry to the Anasara pindi, and having a secondary role in the other events.

Nabakalebara

During Nabakalebara, the Brahma is transferred from the old idols to the new. Some believe that the Brahma is Buddha’s tooth relic, the golden tooth kept in ancient times in a stupa (Nila Giri) and taken out in an annual procession from which the Car Festival originated. Others claim that it is saligram, a sacred object, symbolising for Hindus the Supreme Deity.

The ritual is shrouded in mystery, with the enigmatic Brahma transferred at midnight by the Daitas, blindfolded, and with their hands wrapped in cloth so that the Brahma is neither seen nor touched by bare human hand.

More than the customary practice, its symbolism is important. God is unknown and unknowable, and cannot be fathomed through the physical senses: na tatra chakshurgachhati na baag gachhati na mano, na vidmo na vijanimo… (Kenopanishada, Verse 3)

Jagannatha-Balabhadra-Subhadra are possibly the only Hindu deities who discard their old body and acquire a new one, every 9, 12 or 19 years. After the consecration of the new idols and burial of the old idols, the Daitas perform the shuddhi kriya, the period of mourning, just as a family would observe these rituals upon the death of a member of the family. Jagannatha is a close kin for them. Brahmins do not perform this ritual mourning.

Ratha Yatra

During the Ratha Yatra, the deities step out of their grand temple to mingle with the masses. The devotees, regardless of caste and religion, are free to receive their grace.

Conclusion

The secret of the lasting appeal of Lord Jagannatha may be owing to the readiness to incorporate and assimilate diverse cultures and sub-cultures including tribal mores and tantric rituals. No one is excluded. During Ratha Yatra, He mingles freely with all His devotees regardless of caste or religion. His prasad is mahaprasad, incapable of being defiled by the touch of anyone, and partaking it in open premises with devotees regardless of caste or religion is customary.

When Dasia Bauri was denied entry into Srimandira, the gracious Lord extended his hand to accept the humble offering of a coconut from his devotee. The myth’s message is explicit. Regrettably, however, non-Hindus are still denied entry into the temple. Since Jagannatha is the Lord of the Universe, and all humans of whatever faith are His children, why would God deny access to His children?

Man’s search for God is endless. Even those religions which claim to have found the one true god or prophet have not been able to put an end to the scepticism, disquiet, and quest of many of their faith. Why is that so? Because Man is wired to think more, further and farther. The search for new gods, new faiths, and new solutions for the soul continues.  

***

References

Das, K. B., & Mahapatra, L. K. (First Edition: 1979, First Reprint: 1999). Folklore of Orissa. New Delhi: National Book Trust, India.

Das, M. (2009: 1st Edition, 2016: Revised Edition). Myths, Legends, Concepts and Literary Antiquities of India. New Delhi: Sahitya Akademi.

Dash, A. (2014, Feb-Mar). Tribal Origin of the Cut of the Jagannath. Odisha Review.

Hunter, W. W. (First Published in 1872). ORISSA: Vol I. London: Smith, Elder & Co.

Mohanty, S. (1982). Lord Jagannatha: The Microcosm of Indian Spiritual Culture. Bhubaneswar: Orissa Sahitya Akademi.

 

***

Note: 

  • Author's profile may be seen at http://amazon.com/author/pkdash
  • Books by this author are available on Amazon.in, Kindle eBook, Flipkart, and Notion Press, Chennai.
***

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Special Gift

 

A Special Gift

(2 min read)

Being rather old-fashioned, we don’t keep awake till midnight on 31st December to ring in the New Year. On New Year’s Day, I was up well before dawn and wished dear spouse a Happy New Year, with a steaming cup of herbal tea, as soon as she woke up. Yet, I kept mulling over a better way to usher in 2022. How about a special gift for Sanjukta, my spouse, I thought?

Then, Vikram Doctor’s piece in The Economic Times caught my eye. He had written about Asha Jhaveri’s book ‘A Culinary Journey of Hope and Joy’ and her legendary Mumbai restaurant Swati. I had neither heard of Swati nor about Asha who runs the restaurant, but two nuggets of information in Vikram’s article got me interested. Endorsing the book, Mukesh Ambani has written, ‘We are three generations of the Ambani family who cannot live without eating a meal from Swati at least once a week. Vikram, after his recent meal at Swati remembered, among other dishes, ‘the sweet-savoury guava curry brilliantly paired with slightly bitter methi roti’.

Excited by an idea, I hurriedly finished Vikram’s piece, and searched You Tube for ‘guava curry’ and got several videos of which the photo of Rajasthani Guava Curry looked the most appetising. I guessed Swati might be serving something like that. I spent time on two videos: Nisha Madhulika (6.36 mins) and Cooking with Sid (6.41 mins). The dish is easily doable and takes only ten mins, the expert cooks assured. It is the season for guavas and Bhopal produces these delicious fruits. Why not, I challenged myself, went out to the neighbourhood market and bought a few near-ripe but firm guavas.

Let’s have methi parathas for lunch, I suggested to Sanjukta. Sure, she said, and asked for the needful to our cook who makes crisp methi parathas paired with paneer and green peas curry. Then, I launched a stealth operation, unknown to spouse, since she is a fabulous cook and can’t help ‘guiding’ me step by step whenever I try to cook a dish.

While our cook watched with unconcealed amusement, I sliced the guavas myself, gathered the ingredients, cooked the curry, plated it with immaculate care, and surprised my spouse by serving it with a flourish for lunch.



Neither of us had ever eaten guava curry, nor had we heard of it; but I’m glad that my adventurous dish came out really well, and both of us ate the methi paratha paired with the yummy and tangy, sweet n sour n mildly hot Rajasthani guava curry, and the paneer-green peas curry was untouched.

After the sumptuous lunch, I posted for our children the pic with a caption: What if I couldn’t build an Antilia for Sanjukta, I cooked a yummy Rajasthani Guava Curry, much favoured by Mukesh Ambani, I believe.’

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Note: 

  • Author's profile may be seen at http://amazon.com/author/pkdash
  • Books by this author are available on Amazon.in, Kindle eBook, Flipkart, and Notion Press, Chennai.

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