Kartik Purnima and Bali Yatra
Kartik Snan and Bali Yatra at Khuntpali
Kartik is a special month. A month for
piety. Kartik snan, an early morning dip in a river, is believed to wash
away the sins accumulated during the year. Most people turn vegetarian for the
entire month. During Panchaka, the five days culminating on Kartik
Purnima, even die-hard non-vegetarians eat satvik, vegetarian food since
no family cooks meat, fish, or egg.
Every year, Baba Balunkeshwar,
represented by a mobile silver shiva linga and canopy, went in a ceremonial
procession from his temple in the village, and graced the sands of Jira for the
entire month of Kartik. A devotee had gifted this set upon fulfilment of his
prayer. In the temple at the village, the stone shiva linga continued to
be worshipped. Baba Bholenath was reputed to grant the prayers of
those devotees who come for his darshan and worship after the purifying
bath.
Every day at 4.00 AM, Aeban, Purna
Seth’s son, took out from Bhagabat Gudi the tur kahali - the
long, curved trumpet whose call was powerful enough to wake up even Kumbhakarna.
Only a person with very strong lungs, and regular practice could blow the tur
kahali, and Aeban had mastered this instrument. When the tur kahali hooted, that
was the signal for all morning bathers to assemble forthwith.
The mridang and cymbal players and others also joined in soon. There was an unrecorded pecking order of who
would get to play which musical instrument, the talented and senior members
getting the mridang and the kastals, the large cymbals, the conch, and
the juniors getting the ginis, the little brass cymbals. Singing
bhajans, the group proceeded to the river. Many others joined en route.
At Jira, they took a dip in the
chilled water, and offered their prayers, by pouring a pot of water on Balunkeshwar.
For the entire month of Kartika, the devout ones followed this regime; but many
others took the purifying morning dip only during the five days of panchaka.
Maybe, this custom prepared the body for the oncoming winter, similar to the
Russians taking a dip in ice-cold water every winter.
Worship of Baba Balunkeshwar,
especially on Kartika Purnima, was considered highly auspicious. Childless
couples from Kathapur and other villages came here to seek Baba’s blessings for
a child; observe pairen (possibly derived from Sanskrit ‘pran’,
meaning a steadfast resolution) penance, keeping a fast for seven days and
nights, and to lay prostrate, face downwards on the sands in front of Baba,
with a vow of silence. Often, their wishes were fulfilled, and the grateful
couple and their family returned to the next Kartik Puni Yatra with their
newborn. Baba’s fame spread far and wide.
Kartik Puni Yatra was among the
largest fairs in this area, second only to Bargarh’s famous Dhanu Yatra.
It drew a huge crowd on all three days of the fair, the Kartik Purnima
being the day for the highest congregation. But the fairs on the day before and
after the Purnima were also quite big.
The day fair was held on the vast
sands of Jira, but the night fair was held in the village. Gahaks and Bahaks,
the balladeer troupes, sang and performed, to the accompaniment of mridang and
kastal, dramatic sequences from the epics.
In the Sambalpuri-Koshali language, an
accomplished singer was a gahak (‘gayak’ in Odia), and a player of mridangam, a
traditional Indian percussion instrument, was named bahak (‘badaka’ in Odia). A
star performer was often both gahak and bahak. Of course, he had one or more
chelas, followers, who repeated the Master’s lines for emphasis.
Bhaat, a title conferred by a king,
was the senior-most, and the most famous of all the invited performers. He
sported long hair, immaculately coiffured, and wore a pair of golden kundalas, ear-pendants,
and golden kadas on his forearm, both the golden ornaments gifted by the king.
The evening commenced with a performance by the juniors, with Bhaat appearing
only about midnight, followed by his two palias, followers who repeated what he
sang. He always began with his signature prayer: Govinda Govinda bhajanti
gyani, Govinda Govinda Kaivalyadani. O, Govinda, the wise chant your name; for
they know that only the name of Govinda can deliver them to heaven. Many in the
audience often wondered why Bhaat got stuck with these two lines for half an
hour or more, and didn’t proceed further with his prayer, unaware that the
veteran performer was tuning in himself and the audience for the exquisite
offering he was to present in due course.
Apart from Bhaat, many other star
performers: Lendhria, who hailed from Lendhra near Sarangarh, MP; Kabra, so
called because of his leukoderma; and others made each evening special. They
held the villagers in thrall till the early hours of the morning. The night was
chilly. No one had proper winter clothing. But no one bothered. Seated on the
ground on a jute bag or a bundle of paddy straw, and wrapped from head to toe
in a thick bedsheet or cotton towel; men, women, and children enjoyed the
mesmerizing performance.
The sky was clear, the moon shone
bright, and the kerosene gas lights hissed and purred to augment the moonlight.
Gamblers, both veteran and novices, gathered around ghudghudu patties,
to try their luck. They knew that only the patti thekedar, the
gambling House, won, and no one else won. Yet, this was a special
occasion, a once-a-year opportunity, to savor the adrenalin rush of small,
interim wins; and they had budgeted for maximum loss, promising to themselves
to stop playing once they exhausted the corpus for the evening.
It wasn’t only the opportunity to
worship Baba Balunkeshwar on the auspicious day that drew the large crowd, the Yatra
was also a large village trade fair. Anyone who had something to sell, a
product or a produce, came here. Retail traders from Bargarh brought a range of
manufactured goods. The villagers brought their farm produce - guavas, custard
apples, radishes, and even bunches of humble saag. The kumbhars brought their
pots and pitchers, the weavers their sarees and dhotis, and the forest people their
reed brooms and grass mats.
Anyone who wanted to buy something got
it here. People bought sweets. Sweetmeat makers had arrived at the village well
in advance and had cooked a range of mouth-watering delicacies, beginning with
a humongous jalebi which they hung in their shop. That served as a logo for the
shop, enticing buyers to come in, or at least window shop. The fragrance of
delicacies cooked, and under preparation wafted throughout the village and the
fair. All shops had mega sales on the three days of the Yatra.
The fair had all the usual
attractions: Rehenti, the wooden Ferris wheels, very popular with women, girls,
and children; Bi-scope, mostly favored by children; Ghudghudu patti, thronged
by gamblers and onlookers. Bangle sellers and cosmetic retail shops made brisk
sales. So did the sellers of chana zor garam, sugar candy, gupchup, and chat. The shop which sold ‘Harek Maal Che Anna’, each item
priced at six annas, about forty paise, was hugely popular.
The entire area sizzled with festive
mood. People had saved for months for this Yatra and spent liberally for
bargain deals. Women and girls splurged on a few luxuries like a cake of soap-LUX,
the soap allegedly favored by Bollywood film actresses, new glass bangles, a
small jar of Afghan Snow, a previous avatar of Fair & Lovely, or a
little bottle of attar. Everyone was happy. Residents of Kathapur, the
visitors and guests from other villages, the sellers and the buyers, the
revelers, the devout, the worshippers, and the priests. Children, young men
and women, adults, and old men and women. Baba Balunkeshwar blessed all
visitors with happiness and joy.
Each house in Khuntpali had been
spruced up well before the mela days. The men fetched special clay - soft,
shiny, and white, from the few quarries around the village. The women mixed it
with cow dung, plastered on the walls and floor, and drew jhotis - beautiful,
auspicious patterns and symbols. Each house looked new, ready to welcome the
family guests. Kathapur was all smiles to cordially welcome Kartika Puni and
all the visitors to the Yatra.
The daughters of the village, married
to families in villages near and far, had returned to their parent’s home,
often with the husband and the in-laws in tow, to join the celebrations.
Before the commencement of Kartika
snan on Ekadasi, the first day of the month, the village panchayat had deployed
workers to channel Jira’s flow, to ensure a safe camping site for Baba Balunkeshwar,
free from water-logging, and easy navigation for the bathers and worshippers.
Yet, the east bank was on a higher elevation, and the larger streams flowed
close to the west bank which provided access from Kathapur. Visitors to the Yatra
had to wade through knee-deep water, and sometimes a little deeper, to reach
the heart of the fair, and offer their prayers to Baba. That was no issue. Men
and women just bunched up the dhoti and saree and crossed the stream. Small
children enjoyed a khandgura (kandha ghoda, literally, a horse ride on
an elder’s shoulders) ride, sitting on the shoulders of a father or uncle.
The Yatra had its signature symphony.
The worshippers, the buyers and sellers, and the visitors, young or old, were
all excited and added their own notes to the music.
Visitors heard from afar the sankirtan
for Baba, accompanied by mridanga and cymbal beats so deafening that as the
worshippers approached the leaf tent under which Baba had been placed, they
could hear nothing except the glory of the Lord. A large mound of coconuts had
been offered, nearly drowning Baba, except for the tip of his silver chatri.
Later in the evening, the coconuts would be counted, packed into jute bags
by the organizing committee, and auctioned to the highest bidder, a
whole-seller who would re-sell the merchandise.
When the rehenti operator increased
the pace of the wooden Ferris wheel, it creaked and complained, and wobbled
dangerously; and the women and girls squealed in fear and delight. The stylized
song of the chana zor garam seller was so musical and attractive that even
non-buyers stopped for a while to enjoy it. Those who sampled his
much-sought-after tasty fare, laced with fiery chili, rushed to eat a sweet or
have a drink of water to cool the burning palate.
Children got their parents to buy them colored sugar candy, served on a small bamboo stick, or put on the
child’s wrist as an edible watch. Parents were also dragged to the toy shops to
buy plastic goggles, balloons, and reed whistles with a piercing call.
Kartik Yatra was a feast for the senses
and the soul, too. Baba’s blissful presence brought joy and peace to the whole
congregation.
Everyone was happy and fulfilled.
Bali Yatra and Boita Bandaana at Cuttack
Bali Yatra is held at several places
in Odisha on or around Kartika Purnima, the Full-moon day of Kartika Shukla
Paksha; but the largest and the most famous festival is at Cuttack; once the
capital city of Odisha, and a vibrant centre of trade, commerce, politics, and
culture. It is the largest open-to-sky fair of Odisha.
Mahanadi, the great river, which
looked like a sea, and was fearsome in the rainy season, flowed gracefully in
November, in a few deep channels, and the wide expanse of the river was dotted
with large sand dunes on which white kainsha flowers swayed merrily in
the light breeze. The sand was clean, sparkling, and cool. People came in
hordes to walk in the morning and evening, or just to gossip and relax.
Kalinga Empire extended from the Ganga
in the north to the Godavari in the south. Their naval prowess is mentioned in
Kalidasa’s Raghuvamsa. The Bay of Bengal was ruled by them and was known as the Kalinga
Sea.
They had mastered the art and craft of
making Boitas, large vessels that could carry up to seven hundred men and
animals on board. How far did they travel? Very far, indeed. They made regular
voyages to Bali, Java, Sumatra, Borneo, China, Africa, and nearer home to
Bangladesh, Burma, and Sri Lanka.
Sadhabas, the traders, set sail on
Kartika Purnima for the distant ports. Monsoon had ended. The sea was calm. The
winds were favorable. The wooden boats would carry them to those distant
waters. They’d sell their wares, and buy exotic products from other lands. Each
journey was fraught with huge risks. The boat could be caught in a storm, and
capsize. Sea pirates could attack, plunder, and kill. They could land on islands inhabited by cannibals. Not all would return. Trade brought riches, but
diseases and death were always around the bend. That’s why, when the sadhabas
set sail, their families bid a tearful farewell. The ladies conducted a special
puja, invoking the blessings of all deities, for the safe return of the voyagers.
Every year, Bali Yatra recreates the
scene of bidding farewell to the near and dear ones through Boita Bandana,
the ceremonial worship of little boats made of banana stems and leaves. Odisha
recalls its rich maritime past.
(Sand Art at Puri Beach created by Sudarshan Patnaik using 5000 flowers.)
The island Bali was possibly named by
the Kalinga sadhabas. Bali might refer to the beautiful and sprawling coasts of
sparkling sand, or to Bali of Ramayana. Or, King Maha Bali before whom Vishnu
appeared in Vamana avatar, as a dwarf, and sought a modest gift of land
measuring three paces.
Bali Yatra, initiated by the saadhaba
women, to ceremonially bid farewell to their men, seek blessings of all the
deities for their safe passage, and return home, grew in time as a festival not
limited to the trading community. Bali Yatra involved the whole community in
the area: the shipbuilders, the navigators, the traders, financiers, suppliers
of merchandise, buyers of imported goods, translators, landlords, zamindars,
nobles, and kings, the humble workers on deck, the fighters, and the service
providers.
Voyage to Bali, Indonesia
Where is Bali? How far is it from
Odisha? How does one voyage to Bali? How long does it take?
From Paradip to Bali, it is about 5000
miles. In those ancient times, distance was seldom measured in miles. The right
question to ask was: how many months will it take for to reach Bali? It
depended on when you set sail, the robustness of your Boita, the strength and
skill of your nolia (the fishermen who went deep into the sea on their
small boats) navigators, the volatility of the weather, the dangerous
typhoons, sea leviathans, and the ruthless pirates. With a favorable wind and
other propitious conditions, Bali was reachable in a few months. But it was
always a high-risk enterprise. Not only the wealth on board, but all life was
at risk. There was no guarantee that those who set sail would return. In fact,
many won’t. On such a long voyage to a distant place, loss of life and property
was inevitable. But those who survived the expedition were richly rewarded for
their courage and enterprise. They also gained much knowledge of the world
beyond the seas. The Kalinga sadhabas were the early ambassadors of the
world.
Hinduism struck roots in Bali, Java,
Sumatra, Borneo, Vietnam, Thailand, Cambodia, Sri Lanka, Burma, and other
places. Even today, while Indonesia is a predominantly Muslim country with 87
percent of its population identifying themselves as Muslims; Bali is Hindu
territory, with 85 percent of its people practicing Balinese Hinduism.
Bali has Hindu temples in the
architectural style of Puri temples, the temple gates guarded by the same
gargoyles. Borobudur in Indonesia, Angkor Wat in Cambodia, and Da Nang in Vietnam
stand testimony to the civilizational influence of Kalinga and India. Angkor
Wat is the largest Hindu temple, and the largest temple complex in the world by
land area, on a site measuring 402 acres.
Bali Yatra began at Cuttack, but the significance of these enterprises was so deeply
embedded in the psyche of the people that the Yatra traveled inland to places
far from the sea and to cultures unfamiliar with sea-faring. Bali Yatra reached Khuntpali,
near Bargarh, and other places in Western Odisha.
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