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We now come to the set of miscellaneous rituals whose meanings have been forgotten, were never known, got twisted, or have nothing to do with religion.
I had earlier posted an entire blog detailing the mysterious rituals connected with the sacred thread that Brahmins are supposed to wear like their skin 24/7:
http://gpsastry.blogspot.in/2010/11/loony-lines.html
Then there are rituals that allow for modernization and get shortened, bypassed, and given the go-by.
Like for instance, the ritualistic tonsure of a brahmin widow on the tenth day of her hubby's passing away. No widow, brahmin or shudra, nowadays agrees to a tonsure of her lovely head for the sake of a husband gone with the wind. So, the Pundit asks her son who performs the deadly rituals to go forth with a darbha (kusha) grass reed to his mom and swipe her hairy head in a mock barber-action.
My thread ceremony was performed by my Father at the rather late age of 13 (my age). And my son had to have a sacred thread dangling across his torso as a prerequisite for getting married. So his upanayanam was done hurriedly a week before his wedding at an overripe age of 27. The Pundit said that the evening before the ritual my son had to get his head tonsured leaving five tufts of hair here and there. My son asked him to get lost. And he had to sit on the floor and get three pots of cold water dumped on his (tonsured) head. Son argued: "No tonsure, no cold bath". The Pundit then suggested that just a mug of warm water would do; and I had to tell him that my son is as allergic to evening baths as a tomcat. The Pundit then sprinkled a few drops here and there on his head @ Rs 100 as fine for flouting the Rules (praayaschitta).
Coming to 'dead-habit-rituals' I clearly remember this:
Long long ago, when the Madras-Howrah Mail used to halt at a station like Palasa in AP, passengers would jump down and run to the coffee-stall and grab a cup of coffee served in a porcelain cup, sip the hot concoction in a few seconds so they can return the porcelain cup and get the change from the stall-owner. I was used to this ritual for decades before I traveled to Bengal where tea (no coffee) is served in an earthen pot called: 'bhand'. I didn't know that it was disposable and so used to drink the hot Bengali chai in a hurry to return it to the owner, till I was scolded.
When I bought my Bajaj Chetak scooter and it refused to start, Billoo told me to tilt it on the engine side right down to ground level, pull it back, and then kick its starter pedal. Since I was too lazy to wait for it not to start, I used to invariably do the tilting foreplay every time I had to start it. Then my son and I exchanged my Chetak with his TVS moped.
And the first day, I started tilting that too...
And my son guffawed:
"You will tilt your Maruti car too if you could!"
As a wedding gift to Ms S, I had sent a set of Ishani booklets. She now tells me that her father, Saradindu, was found slyly browsing them in her marriage pandal.
Both of them find mention in an earlier blog:
http://gpsastry.blogspot.in/2010/12/surely-you-are-fishing-jeeves.html
...Posted by Ishani
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We now come to the set of miscellaneous rituals whose meanings have been forgotten, were never known, got twisted, or have nothing to do with religion.
I had earlier posted an entire blog detailing the mysterious rituals connected with the sacred thread that Brahmins are supposed to wear like their skin 24/7:
http://gpsastry.blogspot.in/2010/11/loony-lines.html
Then there is this twisted ritual that gave rise to the famous proverb:
"Fetch a cat and cover it under a basket"
This is supposed to have been passed on for generations from an orthodox Brahmin who had a pet cat that used to be a playful nuisance during religious ceremonies. So, before starting a longish ritual he used to ask his daughter:
"Fetch the cat and cover it under the basket"
The Brahmin has long been dead and gone and so too the pet cat. But his descendants who only recall their ancient's injunction, with 'the' replaced by 'a', take all the trouble to find a cat and a suitable basket to cover it.
Then there are rituals that allow for modernization and get shortened, bypassed, and given the go-by.
Like for instance, the ritualistic tonsure of a brahmin widow on the tenth day of her hubby's passing away. No widow, brahmin or shudra, nowadays agrees to a tonsure of her lovely head for the sake of a husband gone with the wind. So, the Pundit asks her son who performs the deadly rituals to go forth with a darbha (kusha) grass reed to his mom and swipe her hairy head in a mock barber-action.
My thread ceremony was performed by my Father at the rather late age of 13 (my age). And my son had to have a sacred thread dangling across his torso as a prerequisite for getting married. So his upanayanam was done hurriedly a week before his wedding at an overripe age of 27. The Pundit said that the evening before the ritual my son had to get his head tonsured leaving five tufts of hair here and there. My son asked him to get lost. And he had to sit on the floor and get three pots of cold water dumped on his (tonsured) head. Son argued: "No tonsure, no cold bath". The Pundit then suggested that just a mug of warm water would do; and I had to tell him that my son is as allergic to evening baths as a tomcat. The Pundit then sprinkled a few drops here and there on his head @ Rs 100 as fine for flouting the Rules (praayaschitta).
Coming to 'dead-habit-rituals' I clearly remember this:
Long long ago, when the Madras-Howrah Mail used to halt at a station like Palasa in AP, passengers would jump down and run to the coffee-stall and grab a cup of coffee served in a porcelain cup, sip the hot concoction in a few seconds so they can return the porcelain cup and get the change from the stall-owner. I was used to this ritual for decades before I traveled to Bengal where tea (no coffee) is served in an earthen pot called: 'bhand'. I didn't know that it was disposable and so used to drink the hot Bengali chai in a hurry to return it to the owner, till I was scolded.
When I bought my Bajaj Chetak scooter and it refused to start, Billoo told me to tilt it on the engine side right down to ground level, pull it back, and then kick its starter pedal. Since I was too lazy to wait for it not to start, I used to invariably do the tilting foreplay every time I had to start it. Then my son and I exchanged my Chetak with his TVS moped.
And the first day, I started tilting that too...
And my son guffawed:
"You will tilt your Maruti car too if you could!"
Whale of a Compliment
As a wedding gift to Ms S, I had sent a set of Ishani booklets. She now tells me that her father, Saradindu, was found slyly browsing them in her marriage pandal.
Both of them find mention in an earlier blog:
http://gpsastry.blogspot.in/2010/12/surely-you-are-fishing-jeeves.html
...Posted by Ishani
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