Morphing Rituals in Modern Times

Renu Ramanath

Come the month of Karkidakam (the last month of the year, according to the Malayalam almanac, falling in July – August, the peak of monsoon) every year, the narrow roads of my native town, Irinjalakuda, in Thrissur district of Kerala, get chokecd out of breath with the flow vehicles. It starts from the early morning hours, continuing almost till noon, with vehicles of various hues and sizes inching along the already congested roads of the small township, heading towards the ancient temple that’s the major landmark of the place.

The largest chunk of this automobile inflow is made up of the huge, colourful ‘tourist buses,’ or ‘luxury coaches’ that sport plush upholstery, sun-screened glass windows, a/c (most of the times) and video screens, and usually these are used for transporting wedding guests during the ‘wedding season.’ They fill up the narrow roads, the drivers park them casually all over the place, block the traffic, obstruct the gates of houses and generally throw up mayhem.

The vehicles unload hoards of harried men and women, wearing their wedding-best gold zari-s and ornaments, who rush towards the temple, stand in long queues, have darshan and rush back towards the buses, in between gobbling up parcelled idlis and vadas. They have to rush for two more temples, included in the pilgrimage package before noon. Its part of package tour visiting the four temples, of the four brothers, Rama, Lakshmana, Bharatha and Sathrughna. And, the temple in our township, the Sree Koodalmanikyam Temple is supposed to belong to the third brother, Bharatha.

What makes this rush of pilgrims quite unique is the novelty of this ‘custom.’ It is no age-old practice, nothing going back to centuries, but quite a modern, a recent, phenomenon, that has morphed into existence, almost out of the blue, just a couple of years ago when the residents woke up one fine morning to the hum of tourist buses on their doorsteps.

From that morning onwards, the month of Karkidakam has become a nightmarish time for the local populace who suddenly find their tranquil routine taken over and trampled upon by the pilgrim flow that continues for the entire month, after which the temple and town fall back to the slow, languid rhythm. The fame of the ‘custom’ has spread so much that similar ‘tours’ have sprouted in different parts of the State as well, during this particular time of the year. It has claimed a decent space in local newspapers, alongwith the older traditions and practices.

We’re witnessing here the enactment of a modernised ‘custom,’ or ‘tradition,’ that is being formulated with the support of a well-founded network of people and institutions who stand to make gains out of it. Of course, financial gains. Starting right from the tourist bus operators who find a good source of income during the ‘lean’ month of Karkidakam which is considered inauspicious for weddings. And of course, the temple authorities, nothing to tell of the vendours and tea shop owners who set up their temporary stalls outside the temples, finding a respite from the lack of business associated with the monsoon months.

However, it is also interesting to note how these modern day rituals conveniently part way with the original time-honoured practices that constitute what could be termed broadly as ‘tradition.’ For example, in Kerala, the month of Karkidakam is considered to be inauspicious, for every thing. Summer was supposed to be the festival season, when people flocked out together to temples. Starting almost in December, the ‘season’ would continue into the mid of May, with the innumerable temples (and churches) all over the place coming alive with festivals, feasts and other forms of annual celebrations. By the middle of May, curtains would come down on the last of the festivals; the elephants, the percussionists and the bangle sellers taking the seasonal break.

Monsoon was supposed to be the time to remain indoors, especially the month of Karkidakam. In the not-so-distant past, people regarded this month with real foreboding. Many sayings and proverbs reminded of its dark days. In the agrarian society of the past, this month meant no work, no food, no shelter and umpteen number of diseases, nothing to tell of the unending days of infinite rainfall and water logging. Those days, life literally came to a standstill in Karkidakam.

Naturally, many practices and beliefs purporting to alleviate the hardships wrought by the rains was taken prior to the beginning of Karkidakam. Before the First day of Karkidakam, Hindu households went through a ritualistic, scrupulous cleaning that was supposed to keep the Goddess of Inauspiciousness (Jyeshta Bhagavathy) out and to propitiate the Goddess of Sree (Auspiciousness and Prosperity). For the first seven days of the month, a small puja corner was arranged in the households, where, besides the image of the family diety with the lit lamp before it was kept a collection of ‘Dasapushpam,’ or, ten herbs, plucked out everyday from the yard or compound. Women washed their hair using the juice of the leaves of ‘Vellilam,’ (Mussaenda frondosa), put the freshly plucked herbs (complete with roots !) like ‘mukkutti,’ in their hair and decorated foreheads with bindi-s made of the juice of mukkutti plant. Not only that, hands and feet were smeared red with henna too. And those who could afford, went for rejuvenation therapies in Ayurveda.

However, most of these customs and traditions have almost vanished now, just like the paddy fields that supported the local economy. Hardly any one knows the name of the ten sacred herbs, or the ‘Dashapushpam.’ Hardly any woman use the original ‘organic’ cosmetics that helped to keep the skin glowing throughout the changing seasons.

And, into the vacuum created by the vanishing traditions, enters the new formulated ones ! Like recent trend of observing Karkidakam as the ‘Ramayana Month,’ propagated mainly through the mass media. Or, like the one created for the pilgrims in tourist buses who represent that section of public who crave for the new avenues of spirituality that offers instant answers and gratification of wishes.

The speed with which a society like that of Kerala that stakes many claims to progressiveness, literacy and leftist ideologies, take to the new traditions and customs and rituals, is a bit mind-boggling. It points at the complex nature of the social psyche, that is all poised to charge forward at the same time, maintaining a deep-set yearning to be fastened down by the secure chain of centuries-old beliefs and customs.

(Renu Ramanath is Kochi-based writer and columnist. She has been a full-time journalist since 1994, having worked with leading Indian newspapers including The Hindu and Mathrubhumi. Email: renuramanath@hotmail.com )