Dr. Jai Maharaj
2016-08-13 17:18:48 UTC
DEVADASIS - Bharat's legendary temple dancers
DEVADASIS (Hinduism Today series)
[ Subject: Hinduism Today series: DEVADASIS
[ From: Dr. Jai Maharaj
[ Date: July 25, 2002
Devadasis
Hinduism Today, hinduismtoday.com
August 1993
India's legendary temple dancers
It is hard to imagine a class of people once so venerated and then so
dishonored as the devadasis -- India's ritual temple artists. For
millennia, these highly trained performers filled India's temples with
devotional song and rigorous dance. Then in the early 1900's, Christian
influence inspired a moral brigade of Anglicized Indians to cleanse
India of such "backwardness." They branded the devadasi a harlot and had
her legally outlawed. Few Hindus know this. Fewer comprehend how a
society that once called her nityasumangali, "the ever-auspicious
woman," could later chase her into the streets. In a three-part series,
we will help explain this, identify her Agamic origins, detail her
duties and discuss controversial efforts to "rehabilitate" her.
The devadasi never married in the normal sense. Raised in the temple
environs under years of rigorous training in classical singing and
dance, she was ceremonially "wed" to a God or Goddess at about 16. She
rose before dawn, sang as she lit the temple lamps and danced as part of
the worship offered to the Deity during pujas, festivals and
processions. As the priest conducted the puja, she sang devotional songs
while offering flowers or waving the alankaram lamp. This sublime
choreography transformed temple ceremonies into beautiful spectacles
uplifting all the senses as shakti flowed forth from the Mahadeva.
In order for her to continue her lineage, the devadasi was encouraged to
secure a "patron" from the community. He was to be "a religious man of
good status, taste, wealth and tradition" as it was considered important
that their offspring be of high-breeding. Respected elders in the
community often made this choice. Brahmins were commonly selected. She
could change "patrons" if felt necessary. She never cooked for him,
stayed at his house or performed routine wifely functions. Children born
of their alliance were hers and learned music and dance. Sons never
danced in the temple, but became the dance masters, natuvanars, and
taught younger girls, who came to look upon them like fathers. It was
these natuvanars who protected the devadasis and saw to their happiness
and welfare.
This unique tradition was Hindu society's strategic way of guaranteeing
the preservation of the classical arts as religious, not secular
expressions. The devadasi's marriage to the Deity was more than a
spiritualizing arrangement. It was a practical necessity, society felt,
because the demands of a female family member --daughter, wife or mother
-- are so consuming, only someone unmarried could commit the time and
energies needed to master the classical arts. "They could practice and
perform all day long and not think about anything else," examines
Mythili Kumar, a famous contemporary dancer, herself trained by a
devadasi. "Even if they had some family, they didn't have to, or want
to, really worry about all that. This is so different from the training
a girl now gets in India where you have to always put family first
before the art. Whether that is positive or negative depends on how you
look at it. It really comes down to dedication to the art. For them, the
art always came first and family came second."
Her Tarnished Image -- an Explanation
In Hindu society there were other classes of dancing girls besides the
devadasis. Much of the negative stigma attached to her comes from the
chronic misidentification of her with them. There were the famed
ganikas, highly educated dancer/courtesans such as Ambapali who Buddha
once dined with. The Muslims spawned a giant class of dancers and
singers to entertain in their courts. There were also dancers who were
clearly identified as "public women." Prostitution in ancient India was
legal and regulated by the state. The state taxed it, licensed
practioners, monitored their health, kept records and policed all
involved.
In an effort to debase Hinduism, several Western scholars classed the
devadasi with these public women. One of the most widely referenced
encyclopedias on Hinduism in the world, The Hindu World, slanderously
writes: "The institution of temple harlotry was prevalent in India till
the end of the last century. Large temples such as those at Madura,
Conjeeveram and Tanjore were worked like brothels." This bizarre idea is
based on a temple inscription that simply said Tanjore had 400
devadasis.
After the devadasis were banned from the temples, most struggled on the
fringe of society. Some were driven to unflattering means of livelihood
-- a fact they suffer with to this day. While the government today
spasmodically tries to "rehabilitate" them, devadasis themselves, and
sympathizers, are asking for bolder, more creative solutions.
Part II next month
Sidebar: Saride ManikYamma
Interview by Vijay Shankar
Saride Manikyamma was initiated as a child danseuse in two temples in
Andra Pradesh. She became the most beloved dancer at her temple until
1947 when the government banned the devadasi tradition. She struggled
alone in poverty for 25 years until a dance director found her and hired
her to teach dance at his institute. Today, Saride leads a retired life
in Hyderbad. In 1991, she was honored with the prestigous Central
Sangeete Nataka Akademi Award for her outstanding contribution as a
danseuse. In this rare interview she speaks about her past.
Hinduism Today: Could you tell us about your initiation as a temple
danseuse?
Saride Manikyamma: I was initiated to the temple of Madana Gopalaswamy
(Lord Krishna) and Rukmini (Goddess Lakshmi) in Ballapadu, at the age of
11. I never realized the significance of what I was doing. Being an
obedient child, I did what my elders asked me to do. My day started with
the early morning worship. Commencing with the Suprabhatam in the early
morning worship 'til the Ekantaseva late in the night, I performed
several rituals in the temple. Some of them had to be performed through
dance. In the evenings, there were occasional congregations of people
when a Deity was worshipped and the Asthana Utsavam (sun-setting
festival) was performed as an offering. This was also a program for
entertainment and devotional purpose.
For many years, my family line has been dedicated to the temple. My
grandmother, Seshamma, and two paternal aunts, Mutyam and Madhuram, were
the temple danseuses before me. I learned dance from my ancestors but
also had other teachers. Rudrabhatla Ramamurthy was the original guru of
the temple. I studied under him for quite some time. Then there was a
dispute between him and temple management, and he had to go. Another
scholar, Purughalla Subbaiah, was appointed as a substitute. He was both
a musician and a dance scholar. He taught me abhinaya, mimetic
expression, and the Adhyatma Ramayana.
HT: It is well known that though the temples are closed to devadasis,
the custom of dedicating girls to Deities still continues in parts of
India. Many then sing and beg for a living, an almost unrecognizable
mutation of the original system. The government is now mounting a drive
against these girls. What is your reaction?
SM: A drive against the devadasi system hardly has any significance.
What the government should do is to rehabilitate the devadasis by
providing them with basic needs and vocational help, but moreover
encourage their artistic talents instead of looking down on them. It is
not fair to blame the devadasis alone, as society holds equal
responsibility in the deterioration and degradation of devadasis. There
are many devadasis who are completely left in the lurch and lead a
secluded life.
HT: Tell us about the temples you were associated with in Ballapadu?
SM: The two temples stretched over 136 acres. This was truly a rich
endowment considering those times. The entire income of the temple was
spent for the Deity only, for the daily and periodical rituals,
festivals and maintenance of artists, servants, etc. I was the prima
donna until the endowments were abolished along with the devadasi system
in the 1930's.
HT: What was the impact on your life?
SM: I remember, it was about fifty years ago, suddenly the temple staff
was dismantled. I had nowhere to go, I felt miserable. We fought a
losing battle in the courts. The case even reached the high court.
Finally, I moved to Duvva, another nearby village, after selling all my
personal property.
HT: How did Dr. Nataraj Ramakrishna spot you?
SM: In 1972, there was a sadassu (convention) convened by Dr. Nataraj
Ramakrishna (right). All the artists rich in experience in traditional
arts assembled. I was discovered by him along with many others and was
brought to Hyderbad. At his institute, I was assigned to teach abhinaya.
If not for his timely support, I would be leading the secluded life of a
recluse.
HT: You are an expert in the interpretation of Munipalle Subrahmanya
Kavi's Adhyatma Ramayana?
SM: Yes. It's a ballad form of Ramayana. Written in the 16th century, it
consists of about 108 songs in which the story of Rama is narrated from
his birth to his ultimate coronation. Perfect lyrics, the songs have
classical tunes. Each song has its own substance, culminating in a
climax. Adhyatma Ramayana became an integral part of the repertoire of
the numerous temple dancers in Godavari regions.
HT: What has been your reaction on receiving the Sangeeta Nataka Akademi
Award?
SM: It was all due to the Divine Grace and through Dr. Nataraj
Ramakrishna who was instrumental in my being able to surface and see the
world from the seclusion to which I was forced to retire. I was not
existing at all for the rest of the world until Dr. Nataraj noted my
presence. But now I have the satisfaction of having passed on my
knowledge to some students at least, especially my disciple Tara
Priyadarshini. I am glad that my singing and dance version has been
recorded by Central Sangeeta Nataka Academy. Today, due to the grace of
Almighty, I lead a contented life.
Sidebar: Their Talent Persists
Though not widely known, many of India's greatest contemporary dancers,
singers and instrumentalists are from a devadasi lineage. One such
artist unashamed of her devadasi lineage is Kishori Amonkar, one of
India's most extraordinary classical singers. An article on her (India
Perspectives, 1991, by Rashmee Seghal) candidly revealed the prejudice
she suffered as a girl:
"Born in Goa in 1931, her mother Moghubhai Murdikar herself a famous
singer, came from the oppressed stratum of society, the devadasis. So
although she grew up in an atmosphere of music, Kishori faced many
privations in her youth. Describing one such incident, she says, "Once I
was sitting on the parpet of the Someshwar temple in our home village
Kurdi, when I was rudely a sked to get down from there and sit on the
step below. Why? I failed to understand. I did not budge. Later on I
came to know that our low social status automatically assigned us to a
place a the bottom."
"It is not fair to blame the devadasi alone. Society is equally
responsible for her present degradation.
The government should provide not only vocational help, but
encourage her artistic talents instead of looking down on her."
- Saride Manikyamma
Source - http://www.hinduismtoday.com/1993/8/1993-8-05.html
Devadasis, Part II
Hinduism Today
September 1993
Part I introduced the complex and severely misunderstood tradition of
the devadasis, Hinduism's ritual temple artists. Four points were made:
1) the devadasi was highly trained in music and dance from girlhood; 2)
at 16, she was ceremoniously "married" to a temple Deity and served as a
full temple employee; 3) she was permitted a "patron" of good bearing
from the community; 4) and she was distinct from other women who sang
solely in palaces and wealthy homes as well as the various strata of
courtesans high and low.
Despite all the bizzare accounts by mainly Western writers, the devadasi
temple tradition was not some twisted turn of a patriarchal Indian
society nor a heartless Hindu institution of "religious harlotry."
Hardly. Its origins trace deep into the Saiva Agamas (circa 1,500 bce),
which dignify her as a bonafide ceremonial officiant, with specific
duties, training and and rules of conduct. Both the devadasis and the
priests were a part of the subtle, sacred task of invoking the shakti,
divine energy, of the Mahadeva and making it a palpable experience to
devotees. The priests employed Sanskrit mantras; the devadasis used
music, mudra and dance. Both regarded themselves as "temple servants."
They carried an attitude of humble self-respect, joyfully filling an
occupation that garnered little worldly reward. Their deepest
fulfillment was completely inner.
The Kamikagama describes many categories of female ritual temple
artists, including the Rudraganika, Rudrakkannikai and the Rudradasi.
Contemporary high priest Sadyojatasivacharya summarizes from Agamic
passages: "The Rudraganika should wear her hair in a knot above the
collar bone; her waist should be adorned by a saffron cloth. She should
wear the Siva mark of three stripes of holy ash and the rudraksha as the
sole ornament. She should wear a silken blouse. The acharya gives her
Sivadiksha (initiation) and teaches her the Panchakshara Mantram and
ties on her the golden sign of the linga onto her wedding pendant. For
all three [ganikas] after the bottu (lingam) has been tied, it is
necessary for her to peform nrittnam, pure dance. If this is done with
lust, or otherwise, the king and country will be destroyed."
Other sects, Sakta and Vaishnavite, scripturally sanctioned and adopted
the devadasi tradition. To her village, she was considered a "harbinger
of auspiciousness," a true embodiment of the Deity. Devotees invited
devadasis to private homes on auspicious occasions, especially weddings.
Here they were worshiped and then asked to sing and bless. They went in
groups of two or more, never alone. One Puri Temple retired devadasi
relates: "People used to take sand from our door [as a blessing] and
bangles from our hands to give to their daughters. But today, people
think sinfully about us and [don't do this anymore]."
The devadasi's schedule was highly routine. She performed daily, or more
infrequently if many were attached to her temple. She lived in her own
small house, alone, on temple lands, and ate both temple prashadam and
cooked for herself. She rose before dawn, performed her personal worship
and arrived at the temple with the priests. She sang, lit lamps and
danced generally in two different locations -- right before the inner
sanctum and also at smaller shrines in outer mandapams (halls) where
devotees were uplifted by her sublime worship. At other times, she
performed in festival processions and part of dance dramas that
continued around the year keeping Hindu teachings and stories alive. In
the evening, she sang but only the most honored "inner division
devasasis" performed at the close of the final evening puja, waving the
last arati. Some learned and played the flute and veena.
Her "Private" Life -- Fact Versus Fabrication
Nothing has so hypnotized the prurient imagination of Western writers
than the devadasi's "private" life. French missionary Abbe Dubois seeded
a breeding nest of vilification with his baseless statement circa 1800:
"Once the devadasis' temple duties are over, they open their cells of
infamy, and frequently convert the temple itself into a stew. A religion
more shameful or indecent has never existed amongst a civilized people."
Other Western writers further fictionalized this warped portrait. By the
early 1900's, an elite group of Anglicized Indians, brainwashed by
decades of Christian moralizing -- along with a party of avowed anti-
Hindu atheists -- led fierce campaigns against temple dancing. Several
unusually courageous devadasis such as Balasarawati (left) and stalwart
brahmin sympathizer E. Krishna Iyer fought against the zealous
"reformers." But to no avail. The temples were legally "cleansed" in
late 1947. (See side bar.) The sacred art form was frantically and
awkwardly passed on to high-caste brahmin girls to learn and then
perform as "high" secular entertainment, like ballet, where it stands
today.
Ironically the dismantling of the devadasi tradition only fueled an even
more radical rural religious practice. In this, girls are "wed" to a God
or Goddess, but with no temple to serve in. Often called jogtis, (or,
confusingly, devadasis by the Indian press) they carry an image of the
Deity and worship it daily. Considered "auspicious," they beg at five
homes a day and are openly "public women," with rural society's
religious sanction. State governments have banned the practice and are
desperately trying to eradicate it.
During 1975-1981 Frederique Marglin, an anthropologist who studied
Indian dance, visited India and befriended the last remaining temple
devadasis of the Jagannath Temple at Puri. Her remarkable 400-page sober
and sensitive account of their tradition, Wives of the God/King,
faithfully retrieves one of the clearest pictures of the original
devadasi tradition in all its complexity.
The Puri devadasis repeatedly told Marglin that fraternizing with
"outsiders," (pilgrims) was strictly taboo. If they had "relations" with
a temple devotee, they were dismissed. However, they shared something
that was common knowledge amongst temple brahmin families but to few
others. In the words of Radha, a Puri devadasi: "It is a custom for us
to keep relations with a brahmin temple servant, but never with
'outsiders.' Why should I hide these things? When I had my puberty, I
exchanged garlands with this priest [a widower] in whose brother's house
I live and I have lived within the boundaries of that relationship
always." The Puri devadasis explained that they grew up with the priests
and felt a natural closeness to them as both had dedicated their lives
to being temple servants. The brahmins' wives were fully aware of these
"second wife" situations. Until "reformers" came, they were never a
moral concern. The sinfulness Christians attached to non-monogamous
marital arrangements was not yet known. For years, the devadasis feared
revealing this area, painfully aware that already they were considered
prostitutes by educated society. Now, demoralized and disbanded, they
feel they have nothing to lose in confiding everything, for they have
nothing left, except a hauntingly deep love of devotional song and
dance.
Part III will include interviews with famous contemporary dancers,
including Mrinalini Sarabhai, Ratna Kumar and Vidya Sridhar.
The Law that Damned Dance
The sun rose bright over Madras on January 27th, 1948. It seemed to be
an everyday morning. But when the Fort St. George Gazette hit the
streets, there were cries --cheers and tears. The legal section carried
the long-expected decree -- The Madras Devadasis Act XXXI, (reproduced
in part):
"Dancing by a woman, with or without kumbhaharathy (pot-shaped temple
arati lamp), in the precincts of a temple or other religious
institution, or in any procession of a Hindu deity, idol or object of
worship installed in any such temple or institution or at any festival
or ceremony held in respect of such a deity, idol or object of worship,
is hereby declared unlawful... Any person who performs, permits or abets
[temple dancing] is punishable with imprisonment for... six months.
A woman who takes part in any dancing or music performance... is
regarded as having adopted the life of prostitution and becomes
incapable of entering into a valid marriage and... th e performance of
any [marriage] ceremony... whether [held] before or after this Act is
hereby declared unlawful and void."
From that day onward, 35,000 temples of Tamil Nadu barred all women
performers, devadasis or not. Most had already. Today, Indian girls
perform Hinduism's sacred dances in high school basketball gyms, rented
Christian community centers and hotel dance halls. The temples meanwhile
are void of devotional song and dance, except occasional tourist shows
like at Khajarao.
END OF PART A - Continues in Part B.
Jai Maharaj, Jyotishi
Om Shanti
http://bit.do/jaimaharaj
DEVADASIS (Hinduism Today series)
[ Subject: Hinduism Today series: DEVADASIS
[ From: Dr. Jai Maharaj
[ Date: July 25, 2002
Devadasis
Hinduism Today, hinduismtoday.com
August 1993
India's legendary temple dancers
It is hard to imagine a class of people once so venerated and then so
dishonored as the devadasis -- India's ritual temple artists. For
millennia, these highly trained performers filled India's temples with
devotional song and rigorous dance. Then in the early 1900's, Christian
influence inspired a moral brigade of Anglicized Indians to cleanse
India of such "backwardness." They branded the devadasi a harlot and had
her legally outlawed. Few Hindus know this. Fewer comprehend how a
society that once called her nityasumangali, "the ever-auspicious
woman," could later chase her into the streets. In a three-part series,
we will help explain this, identify her Agamic origins, detail her
duties and discuss controversial efforts to "rehabilitate" her.
The devadasi never married in the normal sense. Raised in the temple
environs under years of rigorous training in classical singing and
dance, she was ceremonially "wed" to a God or Goddess at about 16. She
rose before dawn, sang as she lit the temple lamps and danced as part of
the worship offered to the Deity during pujas, festivals and
processions. As the priest conducted the puja, she sang devotional songs
while offering flowers or waving the alankaram lamp. This sublime
choreography transformed temple ceremonies into beautiful spectacles
uplifting all the senses as shakti flowed forth from the Mahadeva.
In order for her to continue her lineage, the devadasi was encouraged to
secure a "patron" from the community. He was to be "a religious man of
good status, taste, wealth and tradition" as it was considered important
that their offspring be of high-breeding. Respected elders in the
community often made this choice. Brahmins were commonly selected. She
could change "patrons" if felt necessary. She never cooked for him,
stayed at his house or performed routine wifely functions. Children born
of their alliance were hers and learned music and dance. Sons never
danced in the temple, but became the dance masters, natuvanars, and
taught younger girls, who came to look upon them like fathers. It was
these natuvanars who protected the devadasis and saw to their happiness
and welfare.
This unique tradition was Hindu society's strategic way of guaranteeing
the preservation of the classical arts as religious, not secular
expressions. The devadasi's marriage to the Deity was more than a
spiritualizing arrangement. It was a practical necessity, society felt,
because the demands of a female family member --daughter, wife or mother
-- are so consuming, only someone unmarried could commit the time and
energies needed to master the classical arts. "They could practice and
perform all day long and not think about anything else," examines
Mythili Kumar, a famous contemporary dancer, herself trained by a
devadasi. "Even if they had some family, they didn't have to, or want
to, really worry about all that. This is so different from the training
a girl now gets in India where you have to always put family first
before the art. Whether that is positive or negative depends on how you
look at it. It really comes down to dedication to the art. For them, the
art always came first and family came second."
Her Tarnished Image -- an Explanation
In Hindu society there were other classes of dancing girls besides the
devadasis. Much of the negative stigma attached to her comes from the
chronic misidentification of her with them. There were the famed
ganikas, highly educated dancer/courtesans such as Ambapali who Buddha
once dined with. The Muslims spawned a giant class of dancers and
singers to entertain in their courts. There were also dancers who were
clearly identified as "public women." Prostitution in ancient India was
legal and regulated by the state. The state taxed it, licensed
practioners, monitored their health, kept records and policed all
involved.
In an effort to debase Hinduism, several Western scholars classed the
devadasi with these public women. One of the most widely referenced
encyclopedias on Hinduism in the world, The Hindu World, slanderously
writes: "The institution of temple harlotry was prevalent in India till
the end of the last century. Large temples such as those at Madura,
Conjeeveram and Tanjore were worked like brothels." This bizarre idea is
based on a temple inscription that simply said Tanjore had 400
devadasis.
After the devadasis were banned from the temples, most struggled on the
fringe of society. Some were driven to unflattering means of livelihood
-- a fact they suffer with to this day. While the government today
spasmodically tries to "rehabilitate" them, devadasis themselves, and
sympathizers, are asking for bolder, more creative solutions.
Part II next month
Sidebar: Saride ManikYamma
Interview by Vijay Shankar
Saride Manikyamma was initiated as a child danseuse in two temples in
Andra Pradesh. She became the most beloved dancer at her temple until
1947 when the government banned the devadasi tradition. She struggled
alone in poverty for 25 years until a dance director found her and hired
her to teach dance at his institute. Today, Saride leads a retired life
in Hyderbad. In 1991, she was honored with the prestigous Central
Sangeete Nataka Akademi Award for her outstanding contribution as a
danseuse. In this rare interview she speaks about her past.
Hinduism Today: Could you tell us about your initiation as a temple
danseuse?
Saride Manikyamma: I was initiated to the temple of Madana Gopalaswamy
(Lord Krishna) and Rukmini (Goddess Lakshmi) in Ballapadu, at the age of
11. I never realized the significance of what I was doing. Being an
obedient child, I did what my elders asked me to do. My day started with
the early morning worship. Commencing with the Suprabhatam in the early
morning worship 'til the Ekantaseva late in the night, I performed
several rituals in the temple. Some of them had to be performed through
dance. In the evenings, there were occasional congregations of people
when a Deity was worshipped and the Asthana Utsavam (sun-setting
festival) was performed as an offering. This was also a program for
entertainment and devotional purpose.
For many years, my family line has been dedicated to the temple. My
grandmother, Seshamma, and two paternal aunts, Mutyam and Madhuram, were
the temple danseuses before me. I learned dance from my ancestors but
also had other teachers. Rudrabhatla Ramamurthy was the original guru of
the temple. I studied under him for quite some time. Then there was a
dispute between him and temple management, and he had to go. Another
scholar, Purughalla Subbaiah, was appointed as a substitute. He was both
a musician and a dance scholar. He taught me abhinaya, mimetic
expression, and the Adhyatma Ramayana.
HT: It is well known that though the temples are closed to devadasis,
the custom of dedicating girls to Deities still continues in parts of
India. Many then sing and beg for a living, an almost unrecognizable
mutation of the original system. The government is now mounting a drive
against these girls. What is your reaction?
SM: A drive against the devadasi system hardly has any significance.
What the government should do is to rehabilitate the devadasis by
providing them with basic needs and vocational help, but moreover
encourage their artistic talents instead of looking down on them. It is
not fair to blame the devadasis alone, as society holds equal
responsibility in the deterioration and degradation of devadasis. There
are many devadasis who are completely left in the lurch and lead a
secluded life.
HT: Tell us about the temples you were associated with in Ballapadu?
SM: The two temples stretched over 136 acres. This was truly a rich
endowment considering those times. The entire income of the temple was
spent for the Deity only, for the daily and periodical rituals,
festivals and maintenance of artists, servants, etc. I was the prima
donna until the endowments were abolished along with the devadasi system
in the 1930's.
HT: What was the impact on your life?
SM: I remember, it was about fifty years ago, suddenly the temple staff
was dismantled. I had nowhere to go, I felt miserable. We fought a
losing battle in the courts. The case even reached the high court.
Finally, I moved to Duvva, another nearby village, after selling all my
personal property.
HT: How did Dr. Nataraj Ramakrishna spot you?
SM: In 1972, there was a sadassu (convention) convened by Dr. Nataraj
Ramakrishna (right). All the artists rich in experience in traditional
arts assembled. I was discovered by him along with many others and was
brought to Hyderbad. At his institute, I was assigned to teach abhinaya.
If not for his timely support, I would be leading the secluded life of a
recluse.
HT: You are an expert in the interpretation of Munipalle Subrahmanya
Kavi's Adhyatma Ramayana?
SM: Yes. It's a ballad form of Ramayana. Written in the 16th century, it
consists of about 108 songs in which the story of Rama is narrated from
his birth to his ultimate coronation. Perfect lyrics, the songs have
classical tunes. Each song has its own substance, culminating in a
climax. Adhyatma Ramayana became an integral part of the repertoire of
the numerous temple dancers in Godavari regions.
HT: What has been your reaction on receiving the Sangeeta Nataka Akademi
Award?
SM: It was all due to the Divine Grace and through Dr. Nataraj
Ramakrishna who was instrumental in my being able to surface and see the
world from the seclusion to which I was forced to retire. I was not
existing at all for the rest of the world until Dr. Nataraj noted my
presence. But now I have the satisfaction of having passed on my
knowledge to some students at least, especially my disciple Tara
Priyadarshini. I am glad that my singing and dance version has been
recorded by Central Sangeeta Nataka Academy. Today, due to the grace of
Almighty, I lead a contented life.
Sidebar: Their Talent Persists
Though not widely known, many of India's greatest contemporary dancers,
singers and instrumentalists are from a devadasi lineage. One such
artist unashamed of her devadasi lineage is Kishori Amonkar, one of
India's most extraordinary classical singers. An article on her (India
Perspectives, 1991, by Rashmee Seghal) candidly revealed the prejudice
she suffered as a girl:
"Born in Goa in 1931, her mother Moghubhai Murdikar herself a famous
singer, came from the oppressed stratum of society, the devadasis. So
although she grew up in an atmosphere of music, Kishori faced many
privations in her youth. Describing one such incident, she says, "Once I
was sitting on the parpet of the Someshwar temple in our home village
Kurdi, when I was rudely a sked to get down from there and sit on the
step below. Why? I failed to understand. I did not budge. Later on I
came to know that our low social status automatically assigned us to a
place a the bottom."
"It is not fair to blame the devadasi alone. Society is equally
responsible for her present degradation.
The government should provide not only vocational help, but
encourage her artistic talents instead of looking down on her."
- Saride Manikyamma
Source - http://www.hinduismtoday.com/1993/8/1993-8-05.html
Devadasis, Part II
Hinduism Today
September 1993
Part I introduced the complex and severely misunderstood tradition of
the devadasis, Hinduism's ritual temple artists. Four points were made:
1) the devadasi was highly trained in music and dance from girlhood; 2)
at 16, she was ceremoniously "married" to a temple Deity and served as a
full temple employee; 3) she was permitted a "patron" of good bearing
from the community; 4) and she was distinct from other women who sang
solely in palaces and wealthy homes as well as the various strata of
courtesans high and low.
Despite all the bizzare accounts by mainly Western writers, the devadasi
temple tradition was not some twisted turn of a patriarchal Indian
society nor a heartless Hindu institution of "religious harlotry."
Hardly. Its origins trace deep into the Saiva Agamas (circa 1,500 bce),
which dignify her as a bonafide ceremonial officiant, with specific
duties, training and and rules of conduct. Both the devadasis and the
priests were a part of the subtle, sacred task of invoking the shakti,
divine energy, of the Mahadeva and making it a palpable experience to
devotees. The priests employed Sanskrit mantras; the devadasis used
music, mudra and dance. Both regarded themselves as "temple servants."
They carried an attitude of humble self-respect, joyfully filling an
occupation that garnered little worldly reward. Their deepest
fulfillment was completely inner.
The Kamikagama describes many categories of female ritual temple
artists, including the Rudraganika, Rudrakkannikai and the Rudradasi.
Contemporary high priest Sadyojatasivacharya summarizes from Agamic
passages: "The Rudraganika should wear her hair in a knot above the
collar bone; her waist should be adorned by a saffron cloth. She should
wear the Siva mark of three stripes of holy ash and the rudraksha as the
sole ornament. She should wear a silken blouse. The acharya gives her
Sivadiksha (initiation) and teaches her the Panchakshara Mantram and
ties on her the golden sign of the linga onto her wedding pendant. For
all three [ganikas] after the bottu (lingam) has been tied, it is
necessary for her to peform nrittnam, pure dance. If this is done with
lust, or otherwise, the king and country will be destroyed."
Other sects, Sakta and Vaishnavite, scripturally sanctioned and adopted
the devadasi tradition. To her village, she was considered a "harbinger
of auspiciousness," a true embodiment of the Deity. Devotees invited
devadasis to private homes on auspicious occasions, especially weddings.
Here they were worshiped and then asked to sing and bless. They went in
groups of two or more, never alone. One Puri Temple retired devadasi
relates: "People used to take sand from our door [as a blessing] and
bangles from our hands to give to their daughters. But today, people
think sinfully about us and [don't do this anymore]."
The devadasi's schedule was highly routine. She performed daily, or more
infrequently if many were attached to her temple. She lived in her own
small house, alone, on temple lands, and ate both temple prashadam and
cooked for herself. She rose before dawn, performed her personal worship
and arrived at the temple with the priests. She sang, lit lamps and
danced generally in two different locations -- right before the inner
sanctum and also at smaller shrines in outer mandapams (halls) where
devotees were uplifted by her sublime worship. At other times, she
performed in festival processions and part of dance dramas that
continued around the year keeping Hindu teachings and stories alive. In
the evening, she sang but only the most honored "inner division
devasasis" performed at the close of the final evening puja, waving the
last arati. Some learned and played the flute and veena.
Her "Private" Life -- Fact Versus Fabrication
Nothing has so hypnotized the prurient imagination of Western writers
than the devadasi's "private" life. French missionary Abbe Dubois seeded
a breeding nest of vilification with his baseless statement circa 1800:
"Once the devadasis' temple duties are over, they open their cells of
infamy, and frequently convert the temple itself into a stew. A religion
more shameful or indecent has never existed amongst a civilized people."
Other Western writers further fictionalized this warped portrait. By the
early 1900's, an elite group of Anglicized Indians, brainwashed by
decades of Christian moralizing -- along with a party of avowed anti-
Hindu atheists -- led fierce campaigns against temple dancing. Several
unusually courageous devadasis such as Balasarawati (left) and stalwart
brahmin sympathizer E. Krishna Iyer fought against the zealous
"reformers." But to no avail. The temples were legally "cleansed" in
late 1947. (See side bar.) The sacred art form was frantically and
awkwardly passed on to high-caste brahmin girls to learn and then
perform as "high" secular entertainment, like ballet, where it stands
today.
Ironically the dismantling of the devadasi tradition only fueled an even
more radical rural religious practice. In this, girls are "wed" to a God
or Goddess, but with no temple to serve in. Often called jogtis, (or,
confusingly, devadasis by the Indian press) they carry an image of the
Deity and worship it daily. Considered "auspicious," they beg at five
homes a day and are openly "public women," with rural society's
religious sanction. State governments have banned the practice and are
desperately trying to eradicate it.
During 1975-1981 Frederique Marglin, an anthropologist who studied
Indian dance, visited India and befriended the last remaining temple
devadasis of the Jagannath Temple at Puri. Her remarkable 400-page sober
and sensitive account of their tradition, Wives of the God/King,
faithfully retrieves one of the clearest pictures of the original
devadasi tradition in all its complexity.
The Puri devadasis repeatedly told Marglin that fraternizing with
"outsiders," (pilgrims) was strictly taboo. If they had "relations" with
a temple devotee, they were dismissed. However, they shared something
that was common knowledge amongst temple brahmin families but to few
others. In the words of Radha, a Puri devadasi: "It is a custom for us
to keep relations with a brahmin temple servant, but never with
'outsiders.' Why should I hide these things? When I had my puberty, I
exchanged garlands with this priest [a widower] in whose brother's house
I live and I have lived within the boundaries of that relationship
always." The Puri devadasis explained that they grew up with the priests
and felt a natural closeness to them as both had dedicated their lives
to being temple servants. The brahmins' wives were fully aware of these
"second wife" situations. Until "reformers" came, they were never a
moral concern. The sinfulness Christians attached to non-monogamous
marital arrangements was not yet known. For years, the devadasis feared
revealing this area, painfully aware that already they were considered
prostitutes by educated society. Now, demoralized and disbanded, they
feel they have nothing to lose in confiding everything, for they have
nothing left, except a hauntingly deep love of devotional song and
dance.
Part III will include interviews with famous contemporary dancers,
including Mrinalini Sarabhai, Ratna Kumar and Vidya Sridhar.
The Law that Damned Dance
The sun rose bright over Madras on January 27th, 1948. It seemed to be
an everyday morning. But when the Fort St. George Gazette hit the
streets, there were cries --cheers and tears. The legal section carried
the long-expected decree -- The Madras Devadasis Act XXXI, (reproduced
in part):
"Dancing by a woman, with or without kumbhaharathy (pot-shaped temple
arati lamp), in the precincts of a temple or other religious
institution, or in any procession of a Hindu deity, idol or object of
worship installed in any such temple or institution or at any festival
or ceremony held in respect of such a deity, idol or object of worship,
is hereby declared unlawful... Any person who performs, permits or abets
[temple dancing] is punishable with imprisonment for... six months.
A woman who takes part in any dancing or music performance... is
regarded as having adopted the life of prostitution and becomes
incapable of entering into a valid marriage and... th e performance of
any [marriage] ceremony... whether [held] before or after this Act is
hereby declared unlawful and void."
From that day onward, 35,000 temples of Tamil Nadu barred all women
performers, devadasis or not. Most had already. Today, Indian girls
perform Hinduism's sacred dances in high school basketball gyms, rented
Christian community centers and hotel dance halls. The temples meanwhile
are void of devotional song and dance, except occasional tourist shows
like at Khajarao.
END OF PART A - Continues in Part B.
Jai Maharaj, Jyotishi
Om Shanti
http://bit.do/jaimaharaj