Rites and rituals and being taken for a ride

Rites and rituals and being taken for a ride

Last month in Kolkata, as the jatadhari (dreadlocked) pujari went about arranging all the puja materials into neat piles of rice, betel leaves, bananas, dhoties gamchhas and other sundries for the evening’s wedding ceremony, he was keenly watched by our Juthika Mami, the bride’s great-aunt— in her green-bordered white saree. Only Dinky— the lively aunt of the bride—sat with her to help. The rest of us flitted in and out as our errands or odd-jobs demanded.

“Stop, watch and listen,” remonstrated Juthika Mami mildly, in her customary genteel way. “Once I am gone, who will tell you all what is needed for these pujas and ceremonies…” But none of us had the time, and I daresay the inclination, to actually to learn about the minutiae of rites and rituals, the traditional domain knowledge of the senior ladies of all families. As the myriad of small ceremonies played out during the wedding, I realised she had a very valid point.

Famously, when the pujari flummoxed the mother of the bride with a last minute demand for a pukur (lake) none of us really knew whether he was pulling a fast one or not. Nor did most of those I recounted the incident to later on. Even the father of the bride voiced a very widely held suspicion that the pujari was making things up as he went along after gauging how far he could push the family. But he and the rest of us were not sure if we were right or wrong.

Most of us would be familiar with that feeling every time there is a family religious or social event that features small rites and rituals. We don’t know whether we are being taken for a ride and prefer to go along with whatever is demanded rather than be faced with the sin of not doing something crucial. Or we impatiently dismiss all rituals as regressive and decide it is better that they are done away with altogether. But the truth is not that simple.

There are indeed many customs that should be junked as they have no scriptural sanction but are mere societal extrapolations, prompted by unscrupulous religious officials. That is why it is not only important to have someone around who knows the origin of such customs but also the wisdom to change or forsake those that do not stand the test of our times. In the absence of knowledgeable family elders, there is a greater danger of meaningless or regressive inserts. An incident that comes to mind is a friend’s cremation two years ago. His son, an NRI, had no idea about funeral rites so when the priest demanded he deposit money at the feet of the body (totally optional if not downright unnecessary) he obliged. I saw this demand and acquiescence repeated several times since then. So last month when my aunt passed away and a pujari tried the same ploy, I firmly said, “We don’t do this.” I must say I wasn’t sure, but he retreated.

Whereas rites are pretty much prescribed and codified, rituals are always evolving, often depending on social norms of the time. So guardians of such traditions have a very important role—to not only ensure their proper conduct but also to decide and supervise the modification or discarding of those that are no longer valid. Otherwise there is a tendency to turn to dubious sources—such as TV serials or the internet—for information on what to do.

And popular cinema and serials are hardly the best bet; they seem, instead to revel in resurrecting all sorts of regressive customs (mostly aimed against women) that have no religious basis. While channel surfing this week for instance, I came across a serial where a prospective father in law is shown washing the feet of a future son in law who revels in this indignity. And the priest too insists—uncontested—that it is a necessary wedding rite, when it isn’t.

Over 60 years ago, my mother as a new bride fought some conservative family elders and refused to throw a handful of rice over her shoulder to symbolise repaying her debt (of life) to her mother. Last month, after a big fat Bengali wedding, Zara left with Dhruv for her new home with a big hug for her mother and a cheery wave not a handful of rice. An unfair ‘tradition’ has been dispensed with by mutual consent. As such conventions should be.

Customs play a huge role in ensuring wide family participation in ceremonies, from births to funerals. But ignorance even in this context can be dangerous. The less educated classes are already influenced by regressive TV and cinema depictions and faux “revival” movements, but better-off families should not fall into the same trap by default simply because there are no Juthika Mamis around. The next time she (or someone like her) calls, I shall stop, watch and listen.