Had a hectic 24 hours watching lazily the Grihapravesh (Housewarming) rituals of our Nile Valley Apartment. The doers were my son, D-i-L and her parents, and of course Ishani.
Being the Ultimate Consumer, I enjoy Religion without being committed to it as much as I enjoy Science similarly. My attitude to both is: "Why take a chance?" It is said that Tenali Rama, a colorful character in the Court of Krishnadeva Raya of the Vijayanagara Empire, was offered the choice of two cups of payas by Goddess Kali, one would make him a poet and the other a wit; and he debated for a while and drank both on the sly.
Hinduism as I know it in our South Indian Brahmin households and temples has been a great survivor. The profound reason for this is two-fold:
Its rituals are flexible to suit the occasion and temperament; while its scriptures are rigid. They complement one another. There are priests and pundits and purohits ordained to supervise the rituals; but no preachers speaking the language of the lay customers. The Vedic Mantras are all in chaste Sanskrit chanted with officially prescribed rigor. 99% of the Customers don't know or care for their meanings. Vedic Sanskrit is called Deva Bhasha (the language of gods) and so out of bounds for everyone but Brahmins who are supposed to be greedless. The Customers are mostly rich landlords, merchants and kings who are supposed to perform the rituals to please the gods and increase their wealth and well-being with Brahmin priests as approved intermediaries.
So, everyone takes advantage of the flexibility and goes for shortcuts.
The first thing my son was asked to do before stepping into his own home is to break a red sweet pumpkin on the ground. If its innards turn out to be not bloody red, he is given a fistful of vermilion (kumkum) to smear it over the broken pumpkin to make it bloody. And he (or his priest) dips his hands into the juicy concoction and slap his hands on the walls of the house to disfigure it sufficiently to ward off the Evil Eye.
All the while the priest recites the relevant Vedic chants. I asked my son later on why he did what he did...I mean why break the poor pumpkin and smear kumkum over it. He didn't know nor did he care. Vedas were not for vegetarians...vegetarianism came to India later with Buddhism and Jainism, I am told. Most Vedic rituals start with sacrificing a goat if not a bigger animal and later eat it. And partake a cup or two of Soma (it gives the needed high).
But since we are strict and timid vegetarians, we can't bring a goat and do the needful...so the pumpkin simulator...but with goaty chants. And since we are also not social drinkers, we have substitute drinks that cheer but not inebriate.
When I lost my Father about 2 decades ago, I performed all the 13 day-rituals since my Father (unlike me) was a Believer in Heaven and Hell up there. On the tenth day there was this ritual when certain unkind practices were to be gone through. My Mother, being the new widow was supposed to be forthwith deprived of wearing the earlier symbols of her happy marital status like the vermilion dot (bindi) on her forehead, bangles and necklace bearing the gold coins she acquired on her wedding day 60 years ago.
So far so good...she gladly okayed the rituals accompanied by appropriate mantras. But there was one more nasty ritual that demanded that she be tonsured and no longer wear her hair. This practice is a later interpolation. My grandmothers on both sides acquiesced. But that was in the dark ages. By the time my Father died, this practice was happily given the go-by, but the priest would be afraid to give it up. So, he shoved a kushaa (sharp grass) reed into my hands, asked me to get up and go to my Mother, and sweep the reed over her hair in public in mock tonsure. I hated it but she insisted...
During Ganesh Puja in our households, we are supposed to worship Ganeshjee, who has an elephant's head over a human torso and so is fond of leaves and vegetables in the forest, placing 21 species of leaves on his idol. But it is nowadays impossible to get hold of all those 21 rather exotic leaves. But mantras mention them and are chanted religiously. So, the approved shortcut is to sprinkle colored rice as a substitute for the unavailable varieties of leaves.
And it goes on happily for everyone concerned. And if any question is raised, the standard answer is that it is the spirit but not the letter that is important.
And I agree.
Sanskrit chants have such magic sound values that the very uttering and hearing them makes the occasion holy.
And Sanskrit is intentionally a 'dead' language not spoken by the lay public.
If you want an 'unholy' language that is truly democratic...speak English or rather Hinglish...I have to quit blogging for the night now since there is a 'piece' by my literary girl friend in DC waiting for me to read...you know who...the Marathi lady with Shivajee in her blood who married a Bengali gent with Shakti in his.
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