The Biography of a God: Mahasu in the Himalayas 9789048553846

Table of contents :
Table of Contents
List of Figures
Notes on Transliteration
Acknowledgments
Meet Mahasu
1 Gods on the Road
2 A Stormy Biography
3 The Four Brothers
4 Local Traditions in Times of Change
5 Communicating with Mahasu
Agency, Doubt, Mediation
Index

Citation preview

The Biography of a God Mahasu in the Himalayas

Asaf Sharabi

Amsterdam University Press

Religion and Society in Asia The Religion and Society in Asia series presents state-of-the-art cross-disciplinary academic research on colonial, postcolonial and contemporary entanglements between the socio-political and the religious, including the politics of religion, throughout Asian societies. It thus explores how tenets of faith, ritual practices and religious authorities directly and indirectly impact on local moral geographies, identity politics, political parties, civil society organizations, economic interests, and the law. It brings into view how tenets of faith, ritual practices and religious authorities are in turn configured according to socio-political, economic as well as security interests. The series provides brand new comparative material on how notions of self and other as well as justice and the commonweal have been predicated upon ‘the religious’ in Asia since the colonial/imperialist period until today. Series Editors Martin Ramstedt, Max Planck Institute for Social Anthropology, Halle Stefania Travagnin, University of Groningen

Cover illustration: Dancing with torches, Jubbal. Photo by Asaf Sharabi Cover design: Coördesign, Leiden Lay-out: Crius Group, Hulshout isbn 978 94 6372 665 8 e-isbn 978 90 4855 384 6 (pdf) doi 10.5117/9789463726658 nur 718 © A. Sharabi / Amsterdam University Press B.V., Amsterdam 2023 All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the written permission of both the copyright owner and the author of the book. Every effort has been made to obtain permission to use all copyrighted illustrations reproduced in this book. Nonetheless, whosoever believes to have rights to this material is advised to contact the publisher.

To Laya and Alon



Table of Contents

List of Figures Notes on Transliteration

9 11

Acknowledgments 13 Meet Mahasu

15

1 Gods on the Road Getting into the Field The Devta Institution

23 23 33

2 A Stormy Biography The Appearance of Mahasu: Version 1 The Appearance of Mahasu: Version 2 The Gods They Are a-Changin’

47 47 54 67

3 The Four Brothers Personalities and Identities The Four Kings Mahasu as Shiva Gods between Here and Everywhere

81 81 88 97 105

4 Local Traditions in Times of Change Local Rituals Fade, Gods Persevere From Carnivore to Vegetarian When Gods Settle Down Mahasu’s Agency

117 117 124 135 144

5 Communicating with Mahasu 157 The God’s Management 157 Mediums 164 Talking with Mahasu 172 Testing Mediums 185 Agency, Doubt, Mediation

199

Index 205



List of Figures

Images Image 1 Image 2 Image 3 Image 4 Image 5 Image 6 Image 7 Image 8 Image 9 Image 10 Image 11 Image 12 Image 13 Image 14 Image 15 Image 16 Image 17 Image 18 Image 19 Image 20 Image 21 Image 22 Image 23 Image 24

A view of Jubbal. On the right, Jubbal market. On the left, Jubbal Palace, which was once the abode of the Jubbal royal family. Photo by Asaf Sharabi30 Meeting between Shikru and Mahasu during Rohru mela. Photo by Asaf Sharabi35 Devta on the move. Photo by Asaf Sharabi38 Medium (mali) in action. Photo by Asaf Sharabi42 Nishan (sign) of Botha. Photo by Asaf Sharabi53 The temple in Maindrath. The temple is near the field from which Mahasu emerged. Photo by Asaf Sharabi57 Botha in movement, manifested through his nishan (sign). Photo by Asaf Sharabi83 Shari Banar is in the right tent, talking with the villagers through the mali. Photo by Asaf Sharabi90 Mahasu’s temple in Hanol. Photo by Asaf Sharabi95 Statues of Shiva, Parvati, Ganesha, and Nandi in Thadiyar. Photo by Asaf Sharabi101 Doria of Mahasu on the road in the Pabbar river valley. Photo by Asaf Sharabi107 Chira in Jubbal. Photo by Asaf Sharabi119 Medium and a priest during Jagra, Jubbal. Photo by Asaf Sharabi123 Ghanduvas at Hanol. Photo by Asaf Sharabi125 A priest sprinkles water and rice on a goat before it is slaughtered. Photo by Asaf Sharabi133 The bridge near Thadiyar, where Chalda crosses once every twelve years. Photo by Asaf Sharabi138 Pabasi’s temple at Thadiyar. Photo by Asaf Sharabi142 Pujari in action, Jubbal. Photo by Asaf Sharabi160 Bajgis in action, Thadiyar. Photo by Asaf Sharabi162 Mali in action. Photo by Asaf Sharabi166 Mali in action. Photo by Asaf Sharabi170 Mali in action. Photo by Asaf Sharabi178 Gatti in action. Photo by Asaf Sharabi189 Gatti in action. Photo by Asaf Sharabi194

10 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Maps Map 1 Map 2

Map 3

Mahasu’s territory, on the border of two states in India—Himachal Pradesh and Uttarakhand. Map created by the author based on data from OpenStreetMap30 Mahasu’s territory, with the division of shathi and pashi. In the middle is the village of Hanol, where the central temple of Mahasu is located. Map created by the author based on data from OpenStreetMap36 Mahasu’s territory, with the division of shathi and pashi. In the center are the regions of Bawar and Bangan. Map created by the author based on data from OpenStreetMap93



Notes on Transliteration

This book contains words, terms, and phrases in the Hindi and Pahari languages. In some books that include these languages the writers use the International Alphabet of Sanskrit Transliteration (IASTA). Since this book is intended not only for scholars, I have avoided such formal forms of transliteration and the use of diacritics. I realize that this may lead to inaccurate readings of some words, particularly the name of the deity Chalda, which in the IASTA system would be written as Cāldā. The names of people, places, and gods from the Hindu pantheon are not spelled with diacritics or italicized. For words that are commonly used in English and familiar to a general audience (for example, shakti, Mahabharata) I have used italics. In some places I have also added an English plural suffix to a Hindi or Pahari word for clarity, such as making the plural of devta, “deity” in Hindi, into devtas. I only use diacritics for the names of local deities, which are given in parentheses or endnotes where the name first appears in the text. My area of research is extensive and encompasses a variety of Pahari dialects. Some words, including the names of the deities, are pronounced differently in each region. For example, the deity pronounced as Kailu in Jaunsar-Bawar is pronounced Kaulu in the Jubbal region. In such cases, I have chosen to standardize using the pronunciation of the Jubbal region, where I conducted most of my research. I have mentioned in the endnotes other pronunciations that I encountered in other areas of Mahasu’s territory.

Acknowledgments I owe an enormous debt to Arik Moran, Hagar Shalev’s supervisor for her Master’s degree in Indian studies at Haifa University. Arik introduced Hagar to the stories about Mahasu, and Hagar introduced them to me. Hagar, who is also my sister-in-law, was my partner in my first journey to Mahasu’s territory, and some of my perceptions about Mahasu and his followers were formed during and after our conversations. I am very grateful to her. I also want to thank Yael Erlich who was my research assistant in 2014. Throughout the years of fieldwork I consulted and conversed with many scholars of India. Their knowledge and experience were invaluable. I especially thank Arik Moran, Udi Halperin, Daniela Berti, and Claus Peter Zoller for their wise comments and support. I also thank Daniela Berti for making possible my connection with the Centre for Himalayan Studies (CEH). I would like to thank A.K. Kapoor and P.C. Joshi of the Department of Anthropology, University of Delhi, who facilitated my affiliation to their department. My experience with the department was very meaningful. I especially thank Chakraverti Mahajan for his friendship and perspective on my fieldwork. Chakraverti introduced me to Ruchi Ramesh, a sociologist from RKMV College, Himachal Pradesh. Her friendship and hospitality, as well as her professional and indigenous knowledge, meant a lot to me. I am also grateful to Samuel Cooper and Haim Hazan who instilled in me the love of anthropology when I was a student at the department of Sociology and Anthropology at Bar Ilan University. I would also like to thank Nissim Leon and Shlomo Guzmen-Carmeli of the same department for their friendship and support throughout the years. During my research in the Western Himalayas I met many wonderful people who shared their knowledge about their culture and opened doors for me. Some of them were not only research participants but friends with whom I could share thoughts and feelings. I especially thank my friends from Jubbal: Vijay Sharma, Digvijay Chandra Thakur, Umesh Chauhan (Happy), Sunil Sharma, Situ Raja, and Chandan Singh (Bittu Thakur). Thanks also to Vinod Sharma who was my research assistant in the last stage of the research. I also met many wonderful people outside of Jubbal who helped me during my research. I especially want to thank Brinder Singh Chauhan, Keshav Pratap Singh Chauhan (Sethi), Dheeraj Nautiyal, and Manish Biran Thakur. Writing about Mahasu was my f irst experience in writing a book. I met this challenge with the help of linguistic editor Shulamith Berman. I would also like to thank Amsterdam University Press, especially Shannon

14 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Cunningham, Loretta Lou, and Mike Sanders. They helped a great deal along the way. Finally, my deepest thanks and gratitude goes to my dear wife, Adva Shalev. Since she accompanied me on the first journey to the field and functioned as my research assistant, she has in-depth knowledge about my project. She supported me the whole time and accepted my absence from home for field work. I couldn’t have done it without her.



Meet Mahasu

On our first visit to the main temple of Mahasu in Hanol, my two companions and I were joined by a young man named Nitin. On the way back he suggested that we stop at Koti, a small, picturesque village a few kilometers from Hanol. Chalda Mahasu, a local god known for his many magical deeds, was staying in the village at the time. Although we were excited to meet Chalda and his entourage for the first time, night had fallen and it was raining. There was no direct access to Koti by car, so the journey involved a twenty-minute walk through a forest along a path that not even Nitin was familiar with. After some discussion, we decided to visit Koti some other time in the daylight. Two days later, the three of us visited Chalda without Nitin. The next day, when we told Nitin we had visited Chalda without him, he told us in frustration that he had tried and failed to visit Chalda three times in the last two weeks. He told us, “The old people would say Chalda doesn’t want to meet me right now, not yet. He is playful like that. You cannot choose when to see him; he will choose for you. Chalda has his own ideas; he does what he wants.” This episode, which took place a few days after we first arrived in the field, introduced Chalda’s teasing personality and opened a window to the interesting and complex relationship between the villagers and the local gods. This complexity is expressed not only in how the locals personify the deity, but also in how they deal with the idea of wandering gods that can be conversed with through human mediums in the context of the growing popularity of opposing (modern and pan-Indian) perceptions. “The adults would say so,” Nitin said when asked to explain Chalda’s trickery. But what about the young people? What about Nitin himself? Did he believe that Chalda was playing games with his followers? Chalda is one of four deities—Botha, Chalda, Bashik, and Pabasi—that are believed to be brothers whose joint name is Mahasu.1 The Western 1 Mahasu, Botha, Bashik, and Chalda are usually pronounced the same throughout Mahasu’s territory: Mahāsū, Boṭhā, Bāśik, and Cāldā. Pabasi is usually pronounced Pabāsī in the Jubbal region, while in Uttarakhand it is pronounced Pavāsī/Pawāsī.

Sharabi, A., The Biography of a God: Mahasu in the Himalayas. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press 2023 doi: 10.5117/9789463726658_intro

16 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Himalayas abound with village goddesses (devis) and gods (devtas) like the Mahasu brothers. In each village are a few devis and devtas, each dwelling in trees, stones, or statues. Some of them have a small shrine or large temple (mandir) that has been dedicated to them. Some deities are connected with only one or a few villages, while others, like Mahasu, are associated with a wide area that consists of dozens or more villages. Each of the villagers in the Western Himalayas has a family god (kul devta) or goddess (kul devi), and their belief in this deity is passed down through generations. The villagers also believe in and worship other deities, who are of great importance in the lives of the locals. Villagers consult with them through human mediums, discussing health, livelihoods, family issues, and disputes. The deities can heal, give advice, express opinions, judge, and make decisions about the lives of their followers. Some devtas, such as the Mahasu brothers, are considered kings (raja). As royal divinities, each of them has a territory (desh) of their own, through which they move by palanquins (palki), or other objects. The devtas move beyond their own territories to meet with other devtas or to go for a pilgrimage (yatra). Meetings with other devtas occur in annual events or on special occasions, such as the inauguration of a new temple or the reconstruction of an old one (pratishtha). By moving through space, the devtas spread their political and religious power with the help of signs (nishan) such as images (murtis), swords, maces, and thrones. As rulers, these devtas also have judicial authority, which can be manifested through human mediums and objects.2 This system of governance by deities demonstrates some aspects of a concrete notion of divinity. As rulers, the deities are experienced in a tangible way through mediums and objects. They are visible; they move; they express their feelings and thoughts by physical means; and they can speak with their followers in audible ways. This is somewhat different from deities in the Brahminic-Puranic tradition, where the perception of gods is more abstract and sedentary. A concrete notion of divinity is not strange to Hinduism, especially when compared to Judaism or Islam. To start with, in Hinduism, images of the gods are present and worshipped. Indeed, most Hindus interpret the images of the deities as their literal embodiment rather than merely a symbol or representation.3 Still, it is possible to discern an even more significantly concrete conception of the deities in the Western Himalayas. 2 For ethnographic literature describing the main characteristics of these royal deities, see Berti, 2009a, 2009b; Luchesi, 2006; Sax, 2003, 2006; Sutherland, 2003, 2004, 2006. 3 Flueckiger, 2015: 78.

Mee t Mahasu

17

Along with this belief in local deities there is also belief in the pan-South Asian Hindu pantheon of gods and goddesses: Shiva, Vishnu, Rama, Ganesha, Durga, Kali, and so on. In Mahasu’s territory, there are temples to some of these gods and goddesses, both inside villages and along the winding roads. Some of the village deities are linked to gods from the Hindu pantheon, especially Shiva and Vishnu. This is the case for the Mahasu brothers, who are usually regarded as a manifestation of Shiva. The joint kingdom of the Mahasu brothers is divided between them so that each brother has theistic control over a different territory. Together, they control parts of Shimla district in the state of Himachal Pradesh and parts of Dehradun and Uttarkashi districts in the state of Uttarakhand. 4 The British ruled this area, either indirectly or directly, from the beginning of the nineteenth century until India gained independence in 1947. British colonial administrators documented the ecological, economic, political, and religious system in this region, as they did in the rest of the Indian sub-continent. These records provide (albeit partial) details about the belief in Mahasu during the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. From these texts emerges the threatening figure of Mahasu, who spreads fear amongst the locals and forces them to accept his divinity.5 Notably, in my fieldwork I found that today almost no trace remains of this terrifying character. This change in the concept of divinity is one of many socio-religious changes that are taking place in the twenty-first century in the Western Himalayas: some gods have ceased to roam, some gods have switched to a vegetarian diet, more abstract conceptions of divinity have become widespread, and there is a deepening connection of local deities to the pantheon of Hindu gods—to name only a few. The main question that arises in this context is: What role does Mahasu play in the locals’ lives today? He used to be perceived as a royal god who ruled a particular territory, but does this concept still prevail? Do other perceptions of him play a more central role in their lives? Another question that arises from the changes in the identities of Mahasu and other local gods is: Who is responsible for these changes? Is it the administration of the gods? Public opinion? Or is it perhaps the gods themselves? This issue centers on the theoretical question of the apparent 4 Mahasu temples can also be found in other nearby areas as well, including the Sirmaur district of Himachal Pradesh. 5 In discussion, followers of Mahasu usually referred to Mahasu in the singular, which sometimes indicated all four Mahasu brothers but other times referred only to one brother, Botha. In this book I refer to Mahasu in both the plural and singular; to reduce confusion, I specifically mention Botha when required, instead of just calling him Mahasu.

18 

The Biogr aphy of a God

gap between the perception of the gods by believers and by anthropologists. While believers see gods as autonomous entities responsible for their own fate and that of human beings, many ethnographers do not accept this assumption when embarking on fieldwork. In many ethnographies, deities and spirits are seen as reflecting social constructs, symbolizing power relations, or serving as a resource for individuals.6 This gap between the perception of anthropologists and that of the people they study is related to a more general question of religious belief—how should anthropologists and other researchers who study religion deal with religious claims regarding the truth? Ethnographers have formulated different methodological strategies to address this issue. James Bielo lists four methodological positions that anthropologists generally take when discussing the issue of supernatural belief.7 The first, methodological atheism, assumes that religious claims about truth are irrelevant to the work of anthropologists, whose role is to treat religion as a human product and explain it in the context of social, cultural, and material conditions. As the sociologist Peter Berger states, “rigorous brackets” should be placed around the question of whether religious meaning is more than a product of human activity and human consciousness.8 The second strategy, methodological agnosticism, treats religious claims about truth as not off limits but, rather, as unknowable for the anthropologist. While accepting this impossibility of knowing, anthropologists must try to understand the importance of religion in the lives of adherents. Following the anthropologist E.E. Evans-Pritchard, the ethnographers who follow this strategy should primarily emphasize the meaning and social significance of the belief and religious rites.9 The third strategy, methodological ludism, suggests that the anthropologists should act “as if”— that is, they should treat religious claims as true to better understand the religious experience. This strategy encourages an experimental closeness of the anthropologist to the subject phenomenon while keeping in mind that it is still a play, a pretending.10 The fourth strategy, methodological theism, asks anthropologists to come as close as possible to the research participants. Religious claims about truth are experienced 6 See, for example, Hocart, 1970; Lewis, 1971; Taussig, 1980; Turner, 1968. 7 Bielo, 2015: 29–44. 8 Berger, 1967: 100. 9 Evans-Pritchard, 1965. The term “methodological agnosticism” was coined by Ninian Smart (1973) in contrast to Berger’s term “methodological atheism.” However, these concepts had already existed in anthropological practice before the coining of these terms. 10 The term was coined by Andres Droogers (1996).

Mee t Mahasu

19

as truth as part of ethnographic work. This final strategy challenges a core principle of the social sciences: the reliance on empirical data.11 In my research I used the stance of methodological agnosticism, which is, in my understanding, the prevailing position in most recent ethnographies concerned with religious life. In my research, I set aside the ontological question about the existence of the divine, instead trying to understand the worldview of the villagers and the meaning they give to the deities’ movements, decisions, and communication with their followers. This understanding is reflected in my descriptions; for example, when I discuss the movements of Chalda, I mention that Chalda moves from one village to another rather than describing how it is actually the villagers that move him (or his palanquin). It seems that most anthropologists who study religion practice methodological agnosticism and not methodological theism. However, one of my main goals in this book is to demonstrate that the gap between the anthropologist’s point of view and that of the research subjects, at least regarding religious truth claims, is smaller than scholars tend to realize. I attempt to bridge these two points of view by referring to two main points. The first point is directly related to the question of the agency of the gods. Does Mahasu, and other local gods, have the capacity to act and even make a difference in the world? That is, does Mahasu have agency? At least the subjects of this study, like the anthropologists who study them, emphasize the dominant role of humans in the decisions of the gods. In other words, the agency of the gods is perceived in a complex manner by (at least my) research participants. Second, I point out that while anthropologists deal in ontological dilemmas about the existence of the gods (Do they really exist? If not, how should we treat them in the research?), Mahasu’s believers face epistemological dilemmas: How can they be sure they are really conversing with Mahasu (or other deities) through mediums? By examining the question of the agency of the gods and the ontological/epistemological issues, I argue that the gap between local conceptions of divinity and the perceptions of anthropologists is narrower than we think. Apart from addressing these theoretical questions, this book is also an ethnographic monograph regarding Mahasu and his followers. I therefore include many details that do not necessarily connect directly to these theoretical questions. During fieldwork I became aware that some of his followers, especially the younger generation, possess only limited knowledge 11 Perhaps the most famous case for this strategy is the work of Edith Turner (1992, 1996).

20 

The Biogr aphy of a God

about Mahasu. In this book, I have therefore aimed to document a cultural phenomenon that is in the process of change for the reference of future generations. It is one addition to the growing number of ethnographies documenting the devi-devta culture in the early twenty-first century.12 When writing the book, I wrote for the scholar interested in theoretical issues and the villager interested in his own culture, but I also wrote for the educated reader. I have therefore tried to write about Mahasu fluently and to avoid jargon and an academic writing style as much as possible.

Bibliography Berger, Peter. 1967. The Sacred Canopy: Elements of a Sociological Theory of Religion. Garden City, NY: Doubleday. Berti, Daniela. 2009a. “Divine Jurisdictions and Forms of Government in Himachal Pradesh.” In Territory, Soil and Society in South Asia, edited by Daniela Berti and Gilles Tarabout, 311–339. Delhi: Manohar. Berti, Daniela. 2009b. “Kings, Gods, and Political Leaders in Kullu (Himachal Pradesh).” In Bards and Mediums in the Khas Kingdoms, edited by Marie LecomteTilouine, 107–136. Almora/Delhi: Himalayan Book Depot. Bielo, James S. 2015. Anthropology of Religion: The Basics. New York: Routledge. Droogers, Andres. 1996. “Methodological Ludism: Beyond Religionism and Reductionism.” In Conflict in Social Sciences, edited by Anton Van Harskamp, 44–67. London and New York: Routledge. Evans-Pritchard, E.E. 1965. Theories of Primitive Religion. London: Oxford University Press. Flueckiger, Joyce Burkhalter. 2015. Everyday Hinduism. UK: Wiley-Blackwell. Halperin, Ehud. 2019. The Many Faces of a Himalayan Goddess: Hadimba, Her Devotees, and Religion in Rapid Change. New York: Oxford University Press. Hocart, Arthur Maurice. 1970. The Life-Giving Myth and Other Essays. London: Methuen. Lewis, Ioan Myrddin. 1971. Ecstatic Religion: An Anthropological Study of Spirit Possession and Shamanism. Harmondsworth: Penguin Books. Luchesi, Brigitte. 2006. “Fighting Enemies and Protecting Territory: Deities as Local Rulers in Kullu, Himachal Pradesh.” European Bulletin of Himalayan Research 29–30: 62–81. Ohri, Lokesh. 2019. Till Kingdom Come: Medieval Hinduism in the Modern Himalaya. Ranikhet: Permanent Black 12 See, for example Halperin, 2019 and Ohri, 2019.

Mee t Mahasu

21

Sax, William. 2003. “Divine Kingdoms in the Central Himalayas.” In Sacred Landscapes of the Himalaya, edited by Niels Gutschow, Axel Michaels, Charles Ramble, and Ernst Steinkellner, 177–194. Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischan Akademie der Wissenschaften. Sax, William. 2006. “Introduction: Divine Kingship in the Western Himalayas.” European Bulletin of Himalayan Research 29–30: 7–13. Smart, Ninian. 1973. The Science of Religion and the Sociology of Knowledge. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Sutherland, Peter. 2003. “Very Little Kingdoms: The Calendrical Order of West Himalayan Hindu Polity.” In Sharing Sovereignty—Royalty on a Small Scale: The Little Kingdom in South Asia, edited by G. Berkemer and M. Frenz, 31–61. Berlin: Klaus Schwartz Verlag. Sutherland, Peter. 2004. “Local Representations of History and the History of Local Representation: Timescapes of Theistic Agency in the Western Himalayas.” European Bulletin of Himalayan Research 25–26: 80–118. Sutherland, Peter. 2006. “T(r)opologies of Rule (Raj): Ritual Sovereignty and Theistic Subjection.” European Bulletin of Himalayan Research 29–30: 82–119. Taussig, Michael T. 1980. The Devil and Commodity Fetishism in South America. Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press. Turner, Victor W. 1968. The Drums of Affliction: A study of Religions Processes among the Ndembu of Zambia. Ithaca: Cornell University Press. Turner, Edith. 1992. Experiencing Ritual: A New Interpretation of African Healing. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. Turner, Edith. 1996. The Hands Feel It: Healing and Spirit Presence among a Northern Alaskan People. DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press.

1

Gods on the Road Abstract After explaining how I became involved with this particular field, I describe it, including its demography and caste system. In addition, I clarify what people in the Western Himalayas mean when they say that their god is also a king, by presenting the main characteristics of these royal gods. Keywords: methodology, caste system, royal gods, Western Himalayas

Getting into the Field After completing my doctoral studies in anthropology, I decided to look for a new field of research outside of Israel. At the same time, Hagar, my partner Adva’s twin sister, was debating what to do in her Master’s studies. She wanted to continue in Indian studies, but did not know which direction to go. I suggested that she choose a thesis based on fieldwork in India instead of concentrating on analyzing texts in Sanskrit. After convincing her, I realized that this could also be an opportunity for me to do fieldwork in India. It would also be a great experience for Adva, who had traveled to India several times and was just looking for a reason to return. So in 2013 Adva, Hagar, and I set out for India to study Mahasu. After returning to Israel, Hagar went on to obtain a doctorate in Indian studies, focusing on medieval Yoga, and I returned to the field of research at least once each year, sometimes more. This book is the result of this fieldwork, which ended in 2019. The following year I was unable to return to India due to the coronavirus pandemic. Since India was temporarily closed to me, I took the opportunity to comprehensively set down the story of Mahasu and his followers, which resulted in this book. *** To get to Mahasu’s domain, we flew from Israel to Delhi, from where we took an overnight bus to Shimla, the capital of Himachal Pradesh. From

Sharabi, A., The Biography of a God: Mahasu in the Himalayas. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press 2023 doi: 10.5117/9789463726658_ch01

24 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Shimla we took another bus east to Jubbal, a fairly large village on the Shimla-Rohru road. The first trip from Shimla to Jubbal was challenging. The road was unpaved, uneven, and rough. It was also narrow in places, making two-way traffic nearly impossible. The buses and trucks had to exert great care not to fall off the side of the road into the abyss. The 90-kilometer journey from Shimla to Jubbal took us about seven hours and we were exhausted when we reached our destination. Later we realized that this experience was related to an international drama that had started several years earlier. The road between Theog and Rohru was originally a single-lane, paved road. In the early 2000s it was decided to widen the road into two paved lanes, one in each direction. This was due to the modernization of the region, which had resulted in heavier traffic. The main driver of this modernization was apple orchards. Traditionally, the local economy of the area was based on agro-pastoralism for domestic consumption. In the 1970s land reforms distributed farmland to families who did not own land, especially those from low-status castes.1 As a result, most of the residents of the area now own arable land, most of which is cultivated as orchards, with apples the most popular crop. Apple cultivation in Himachal Pradesh began in the mid-nineteenth century.2 However, a surge in the number of apple orchards began in the early twentieth century when Samuel Evans Stokes arrived from the United States and introduced apple cultivation in the Shimla area.3 The production of apples in Shimla district has been on the rise since the mid-1990s. 4 This has led to an economic boom, including in the Jubbal region. During the apple harvest (August–September), many trucks carrying apples to Shimla (and from there to markets across India) travel the Theog-Rohru road. Consequently the road, now known as State Highway 10, has become a transportation artery of great economic importance. In the mountainous Himalayas, widening a road is no simple matter, as it is sometimes necessary to carve into a mountain. The World Bank agreed to fund the widening of the stretch between Theog and Rohru. A Chinese 1 Mehta, 2006. 2 Wani and Songara, 2018; Verma, 2015. 3 Deen, 2018; Verma, 2015. 4 Sixty-five percent of apple production in Himachal Pradesh happens in Shimla district. During the two periods 1994–1995 and 2008–2009, apple production increased significantly in Shimla district with an annual compound growth rate of 3.67 percent (Deen, 2018). A comparison of apple production between 1990–1991 and 2016–2017 shows a growth rate of 2.57 percent per annum (Wani and Songara, 2018).

25

Gods on the Road

company was hired in 2008 and undertook to complete the project by 2011. When they did not meet the deadline they were granted a two-year extension, but by 2012 the government of Himachal Pradesh, weary of the delay, canceled the contract. Meanwhile, a rumor had begun to circulate among locals that the Chinese company was spying on India. These suspicions were also reported to me by people in the administration of Himachal Pradesh. For example, a senior official in the Himachal Pradesh Public Works Department (PWD) told me in retrospect: “Although its authenticity cannot be confirmed, it was generally believed that they were spying by transmitting secret information about India to China.” Apart from the long-standing hostility between India and China, the region’s geographical proximity to China played a key role in raising suspicions, although nothing was ever confirmed. One way or another, the project was handed over to an Indian company with a 2016 deadline, but they too failed to meet the schedule. In 2018 their contract was canceled and the World Bank refused to continue financing the work. Eventually the project passed into the hands of the PWD. When I arrived in 2019 for my f inal visit before the Covid-19 pandemic made traveling to India impossible, the road was paved along almost its entire length. When I first arrived in 2013, the Chinese company had removed the old asphalt but had not met the schedule for widening the road and laying new asphalt. The situation remained unchanged for several years. Every year when I returned this uneven road represented a liminal stage for me, a stage connecting what lay beyond the research field to what was within—a rough path leading me, like a pilgrimage, to the holy place I longed to reach. Every year I was delighted to see that the Indian company had made a bit more progress (perhaps too little, I thought) on the roadwork, and accordingly, the time taken to reach Jubbal became less. Concurrently, I felt that as the journey to my field of study became shorter, my understanding gained depth. In 2019, when the road was almost complete, the trip lasted only two and a half hours and the road was almost entirely smooth. Similarly, my relationship with my local friends had never been closer. Jubbal was no longer a distant place I was excited to visit for the first time, but rather like a home I was happy to return to. *** Mahasu’s influence extends from the Sutlej River in the state of Himachal Pradesh to the Yamuna River in the state of Uttarakhand. In Himachal

26 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Map 1 Mahasu’s territory, on the border of two states in India—Himachal Pradesh and Uttarakhand

Map created by Asaf Sharabi based on data from OpenStreetMap

Gods on the Road

27

Pradesh there are many temples to Mahasu in Shimla district, mainly in the tehsils (sub-districts) of Jubbal, Rohru, Chirgaon, and Nerua.5 In Uttarakhand there are many Mahasu temples in Dehradun district, mainly in Tyuni, Chakrata, and Kalsi tehsils, and in Uttarkashi district they are mainly found in the Mori and Puraula tehsils. The population in the territory of Mahasu is spread over hundreds of villages and some small towns. The largest town is Rohru, with a population of 6875.6 Although there is a temple to Mahasu in Rohru, it is not considered one of his strongholds.7 Therefore, almost all of Mahasu’s followers live in villages. To illustrate this point, I will describe two prominent sub-districts in Mahasu’s territory, Jubbal and Tyuni. In Jubbal tehsil of Himachal Pradesh there are 134 villages and one town, Jubbal. The average number of residents in the villages is 269, with a median of 224. There are eighty-two villages in Tyuni tehsil of Uttarakhand, but no cities or towns. The average number of residents per village is 414, with a median of 341. As in the rest of India, the population in Mahasu’s territory is stratified into castes. As part of efforts by Indian governments to improve the situation of low-status castes (formerly called untouchables, today known as Dalits or Harijans), a list of castes and tribes that are eligible for affirmative action has been established. The Constitution of India stipulates the allocation of quotas to these groups—known as Scheduled Castes (SC) and Scheduled Tribes (ST)—in legislative houses, institutions of higher education, and government positions. There is also a third category, called Other Backward Classes/Castes (OBC). Those who do not belong to any of these categories are part of what is known as the general castes. In the part of Mahasu’s territory that falls in Uttarakhand these categories are blurred. The residents of Jaunsar-Bawar (in Dehradun district) are formally considered Scheduled Tribes and the people of Bangan (in Uttarkashi district) are formally considered OBC. However, the majority of the population in these areas are locally perceived as high-status castes (Rajputs and Brahmins). There are three groups of castes in Mahasu’s territory: high-status castes consisting of Rajputs and Brahmins; an intermediate strata of artisans such as carpenters, goldsmiths, and musicians; and low-status castes locally known as Koli. However, in the context of impurity restrictions the most important caste division is between the high-status castes (Rajputs and 5 There are also some temples in Sirmaur district, mainly in Shillai tehsil. 6 The data in this paragraph are taken from the 2011 census. 7 The most popular devta in Rohru is Shikru.

28 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Brahmins) and the rest of the population, who are perceived as low-status castes.8 This binary between high-status and low-status castes vividly manifests when outsiders come to settle (whether permanently or temporarily) in the Jubbal region. If locals do not regard them as belonging to the Scheduled Castes, they are included in the Rajput and Brahmin group. This was the case with the owner of my favorite dhaba (restaurant) in Jubbal, who had come to the area from Uttar Pradesh twenty years earlier. His last name is Gupta, which indicates that he is a member of the varna called Vaishya, the caste of merchants.9 However, this category does not actually exist in Mahasu’s territory.10 Since he is not considered a member of one of the low-status castes, the locals regard him as belonging to the high-status castes. A young local in Jubbal once said to me jokingly, “My grandfather does not know what Vaishya is, so if a merchant comes to Jubbal, we tell him he is a Rajput.” In other words, the high-status castes do not only include Rajputs and Brahmins. They have been joined by other groups such as the Sood, which is a jati (caste) associated with trading. All other groups (artisans, Harijans) are considered to belong to low-status castes.11 As in other parts of the Western Himalayas, Rajputs comprise most of the population in Mahasu’s territory, where they make up about 60 percent; Brahmins constitute about 15 percent and the low-status castes account for about a quarter of the population. 12 Rajputs consider themselves Kshatriya, the second category of the four varnas in Hinduism, which is associated with warriors and rulers. There are internal divisions within the category itself, which means certain subgroups, such as rathor, thakur, and khund, have a higher status than others. While the f irst two groups are related to former royal houses in the region, the khund are Rajputs who were warriors and f ighters.13 Today these differences in status do 8 See also Berreman, 1960, 1963; Bhatt, 2010: 76–82; Majumdar, 1962: 67–68; Saksena, 1962: 9–16; Utter, 2010: 58. 9 Hindu texts classified society into four varnas (castes): Brahmins, Kshatriyas, Vaishyas, and Shudras. 10 Berreman, 1964: 54. 11 For a more detailed description of the flexible/fluid and regionally somewhat differing caste systems in the Central and Western Himalayas see Zoller, 2018a. 12 This is my own estimate, based on an evaluation made by locals. It matches the estimate in Sati (2020: 124), that Brahmins and Rajputs represent 75 percent of the total population of Uttarakhand. 13 According to Sax (2006b: 123), the term khund derives from the Perso-Arabic word khun, or “blood.” In a personal correspondence, Claus Peter Zoller suggests that the borrowing is more

Gods on the Road

29

not carry much meaning in some parts of Mahasu’s territory (such as in the Jubbal region), where they are usually considered mere echoes of bygone times. One prominent display of khund identity is the Bishu festival, when (mainly in Uttarakhand) they celebrate with a display of bows and arrows.14 A study of the texts of British administrators who ruled the region before Indian independence in 1947 reveals the fluidity of caste categories, including the Rajputs. For example, according to British documentation of the Jubbal principality from the early twentieth century, most of the population was considered “Kanet,” while only a small portion was considered Rajput. The latter were connected to the rulers of principalities throughout the Shimla Hill States.15 Today no trace remains of the “Kanet” category; the people associated with it have been incorporated into the Rajput category. In the region of Jaunsar-Bawar, caste fluidity was expressed differently: in 1967 the Rajputs sought and obtained the status of Scheduled Tribe because of its associated benefits. Arik Moran explains this difference as the result of a process of Sanskritization of the rulers of the Shimla Hill States—that is, a deepening connection to the Brahmanical tradition of the Indian plains. This process trickled down to the rest of the population. Thus, although this was the same population (also known as Khas), two distinct societies were formed—a caste society in the Shimla Hill States, and a tribal society in Jaunsar-Bawar.16 Discrimination against low-status castes in the rural areas of Mahasu’s territory continues to exist. Thus, for example, members of low-status castes cannot touch the food and drink of members of high-status castes, let alone eat at the same table. They cannot enter the homes of high-status castes and cannot even pass the line where raindrops from the roof fall on the ground. The purest place in the house is the kitchen, where even carpenters can only enter with their tools and purification rites are needed when their work is done. On one of my travels in the area, a young Brahmin accompanied me, and the driver we hired for that particular day was from a low-status caste. When we stopped for a short break the driver did not likely from Persian xāwand (master), which was borrowed also into a number of other New Indo-Aryan languages. Regarding the historical aggressiveness of the khunds, see Vidal, 2006; Zoller, 2007. 14 On the traditionally rather martial character of this festival see Lalit, 1993. 15 See, for example, the 1904 Gazetteer of the Shimla District, 28–34. From the report of James Baillie Fraser (1820: 116), a Scottish traveler who visited the Himalayas in 1815, we know that Kanet/Rajput had a blurred identity even at the beginning of the nineteenth century. 16 Moran, 2019.

30 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Image 1 A view of Jubbal. On the right, Jubbal market. On the left, Jubbal Palace, which was once the abode of the Jubbal royal family

Photo by Asaf Sharabi

sit with us, instead choosing to sit at a separate table in the dhaba. The reason, it transpired, was that it was not acceptable for someone from a low-status caste to share a table with a Brahmin (or Rajput).17 However, with the strengthening of social ties amongst all social groups, more and more members of the higher castes are reserving a room in their house to host people from low-status castes. One of the main areas of discrimination against low-status castes concerns religious practices related to the local gods (devtas) of high-status castes.18 Although these devtas are worshipped by all castes, members of low-status castes suffer from restrictions. They cannot enter the temples of these devtas and cannot touch their palanquins or other symbols. One exception to this rule is the central temple in Hanol, which is under a government trust. In principle, anyone is allowed to enter the temple. However, cases do exist

17 See also Elmore (2005: note 11), for his fieldwork assistant’s experience in Hanol temple. 18 The low-status castes have devtas of their own, who are considered to be of lower status. They manage these devtas by themselves.

31

Gods on the Road

of people from low-status castes being refused entry on trying to enter the temple in Hanol.19 Despite the continuing discrimination and distinctions between high and low castes, there are remarkable ties of friendship and familiarity between the young people in the region. During fieldwork I saw young people playing cricket, sometimes sitting together and smoking marijuana (at least some do), and no noticeable hostility. But under the surface one can sense the instability of the social-religious foundation when young people from low-status castes exhibit less enthusiasm for Mahasu (this is where discrimination is most marked) or are more fervent about pan-Hindu gods such as Shiva, or beliefs that reject the caste system (such as Radha-Swami, Nirankari, and Christianity). For their part, young people of high-status castes resent the affirmative action enjoyed by low-status castes. They are also aware that times have changed and that today it is not acceptable to point to a person from a low-status caste and call him or her by the name of his or her caste (Koli). So, on the one hand, they claim, low-status castes demand respect as equals, but on the other hand they take advantage of their low-caste status for affirmative action. *** During my fieldwork I usually stayed in the village of Jubbal, from where I traveled to villages throughout Mahasu’s territory. When I visited a village for the first time, I usually went with locals who knew and could vouch for me. This helped to quickly overcome suspicion and I was successful in building rapport. Tourists or foreigners rarely visit the territory of Mahasu, so most of the locals were delighted to see a foreigner, especially one who was interested in their deity. It was rare not to be accepted warmly and cordially by the villagers. To maintain the privacy of villagers mentioned in this book, their names have been replaced by pseudonyms. The names of villages, on the other hand, are unchanged, unless so indicated. Mahasu’s territory is very wide, and consequently cultural differences exist between different areas. One example is the Bishu festival, which is celebrated more in Jaunsar-Bawar than in Himachal Pradesh. Another example is Mahasu’s followers celebrating with torches (mashal). In some places (mainly in Himachal Pradesh) this occurs during the Jagra festival, 19 See, for example, a case from 2009, when a girl from a low-status caste entered the temple in Hanol and was beaten (Sharma, 2010). As a foreigner and not a Hindu, I was also unable to enter the temples of Mahasu but only that in Hanol.

32 

The Biogr aphy of a God

while in other places (mainly in Uttarakhand) the villagers light torches during the Diwali festival and budi (old) Diwali.20 A third example is a ritual that takes place only in the northern part of Mahasu’s territory in Himachal Pradesh: once a year in the month of Magh (from mid-January to mid-February), Mahasu and other devtas in the area spend time in heaven (swarg) in Indralok (the place of the god Indra). When Mahasu and the other devtas return to earth, they tell their followers about their interactions in heaven and make predictions (bakhan) about the coming year—for example, whether the rains and snow be beneficial, or how large the crop yield will be.21 There are also differences in the terminology used throughout Mahasu’s domain. In Hanol, for example, the musicians of Mahasu are called devals or bajgis, while the musicians who practice life-cycle rites (such as funerals) are called dhakis. In the Jubbal region all musicians are called dhakis. Calling a musician of Mahasu in Hanol a dhaki could be perceived as an offense, because the devals or bajgis consider themselves superior to those who play music during life-cycle rites. Finally, there are differences in the pronunciation of some key words. For example, Sherkulia, one of the main birs (soldiers, lower-ranking deities) of Mahasu, is generally pronounced Śeṛkuliyā in Himachal Pradesh while in Uttarakhand it is usually pronounced Śeṛkur̤ iyā or Śiṛkur̤ iyā.22 In this book I have tried to give voice to the religious life surrounding Mahasu throughout his territory. During fieldwork I collected information from twenty-six villages in Himachal Pradesh and fifteen villages in Uttarakhand.23 However, I am aware that I have paid special attention to the area of Jubbal. This region (and Himachal Pradesh in general) is where the greatest changes in Mahasu’s identity have occurred—changes that lie at the heart of this book. These changes coincide with the economic boom

20 Old Diwali is celebrated one month after the all-Indian Diwali. Old Diwali is associated with King Bali while Diwali is associated with Rama. The old Diwali is described in Zoller, 2018b. 21 In a fascinating analysis, Elmore (2016: 148–154) claims that locals regard the gathering of the deities as similar to a gathering of the parliament or government. Thus, the structure of modern governance is translated into a theological framework by the locals. 22 One prominent exception is the Deogar region in Uttarakhand, where Sherkulia is usually pronounced Śeṛkuliyā. 23 Villages in Himachal Pradesh: Annu, Badhal, Balsa, Bholar, Chamaru, Dakhar, Dhar, Dharai, Hatkoti, Jubbal, Gadjari, Khashdhar, Kiari, Kolara, Mandal, Pronti, Pujarli, Rohru, Saharana, Sansong, Saraji, Shari, Sheel, Sirthi, Sundli, and Turan. Villages in Uttarakhand: Bamsu, Bastil, Bhutanu, Chiwan, Dagoli, Hanol, Janog, Koti (Bawar), Koti-Kanasar, Maindrath, Mandol, Raigi, Thadiyar, Thangar, and Tharoach.

Gods on the Road

33

that Himachal Pradesh has experienced, especially in comparison to the economic development of its neighboring state Uttarakhand.

The Devta Institution Rohru mela is an annual festival that takes place over a few days in April. It attracts thousands of people from the surrounding villages to the town of Rohru, where they visit food, clothing, jewelry, and toy stalls and attend cultural shows and sporting events. The highlight of the festival is undoubtedly the annual meeting of the gods (devtas) Mahasu and Shikru (Śikṛū). Rohru is the territory of Shikru, and therefore he is the host. On the day of the meeting, he leaves his temple in a central plaza and starts moving in his palanquin (palki), which is carried by two people, toward the meeting point with Mahasu. While there is a temple to Mahasu near the temple of Shikru, the guest during the Rohru mela is another Mahasu, who comes from Balsa, a nearby village. Mahasu also travels to the meeting point by palanquin. On the day of the meeting, Mahasu leaves Balsa in the morning and enters Rohru at noon. The two devtas move closer until they encounter each other, after which they move together towards the central plaza where the Shikru temple is located. When I visited the mela in 2016, I followed Shikru and his big entourage. There I saw Shikru administrators, drummers and trumpeters, and masses of enthusiastic people. They were singing, dancing, and cheering the devta, or just watching. Shikru seemed to be happy from all the joyfulness surrounding him, as his palanquin jumped up and down, making its covering of long black yak hair swing with the movement. Next to Shikru appeared ten young men and women, who looked and behaved differently from the rest of the crowd. They were dressed identically in traditional outfits and danced with great precision. They were performing a play as part of the ritual process. As the other participants in the festival liked their performance, they were quickly swallowed by the crowd and scattered by the energy of the thousands who attended the event. This paid performance by the ten young men and women was a reminder that the Rohru mela is a state-sponsored festival. Shikru’s procession toward the meeting point was, as usual, slow, which allowed me to run to the other side of Rohru and catch up with Mahasu and his entourage. There I also saw administrators, drummers and trumpeters, and an enthusiastic crowd walking and dancing toward the meeting point. But I also saw violence. It happened when a low-status caste man began to be

34 

The Biogr aphy of a God

possessed, presumably by Mahasu. This in itself did not pose a problem, but then the man touched Mahasu’s palanquin, which is forbidden to members of low-status castes. Immediately three people of high-status castes started to beat him and drive him away from the palanquin. It was disturbing to watch. This episode was a reminder that while Mahasu is worshipped by all castes, he is a royal devta and as such belongs to the high-status castes. It is for this reason that low-status castes suffer from discrimination and restrictions. After this short incident Mahasu continued moving toward Shikru. The devtas moved a few hundred meters into town until they encountered one another. This meeting of the devtas was exciting to watch and participate in. The devtas circled around each other with demonstrable enthusiasm, while the thousands of people witnessing the event overflowed with happiness and joy. After the encounter, the two devtas proceeded to the central plaza of Rohru. Mahasu led the parade, as he is perceived as a senior devta and was also the guest. As Mahasu entered the plaza, his palanquin began to move rapidly. While the palanquin seemed to move on its own, those carrying it appeared passive. He moved abruptly until he reached the temple of Mahasu, where he stopped and bowed several times. He then moved quickly to the temple of Shikru, where he bowed again. He then went and quickly bowed before the temple of a local goddess. The people crowding the plaza quickly moved out of Mahasu’s path so that he would not harm them. Shikru entered the square after Mahasu. He too made sharp, frenzied movements and bowed in front of the temples. After a few minutes of celebration, a short ritual was held, during which a bard praised Mahasu. Finally, the two devtas were placed in a central location in the plaza. Mahasu remained as a guest of Shikru for two days, until he returned to the village from which he came. The annual meeting between Mahasu and Shikru during the Rohru mela demonstrates some of the key characteristics of the unique model of the divine that is found in the Western Himalayas. Mahasu and Shikru, like many other devtas in the Western Himalayas, are perceived as kings. As royal deities, each has his own territory, within which he moves from place to place. Sometimes they meet, as in the Rohru mela. As befits kings, they travel by palanquin, accompanied by trumpets and drums as well as flags, maces, and other royal symbols. These royal deities wield political power and judicial authority over the people in their territories. Each of them also has an administration which is responsible for the operation of the realm. Finally, mediums are the main means of communication with the devtas. In this section I introduce some key features of this model of divinity, described

35

Gods on the Road

Image 2  Meeting between Shikru and Mahasu during Rohru mela

Photo by Asaf Sharabi

by some scholars as devta ka raj (government by deity).24 I will use the example of Mahasu and other royal deities from nearby geographical areas. *** One prominent expression of the concept of royal deities is the territory (desh) ascribed to each one. Mahasu is an especially popular devta, so the territory ascribed to the four Mahasu brothers is large. Their territory is divided into two regions: shathi-bil (mainly in Uttarakhand) and pashi-bil (mainly in Himachal Pradesh).25 These areas are not clearly demarcated geographically, but their central point of reference is the strip between Hanol and Tyuni on the Tons River. Shathi is the geographical area south of this strip, while pashi is the area to the north. 24 Sutherland (2003, 2004, 2006) elaborates on this system of governance in a series of articles. See also Moran, 2019. 25 Handa (1995: 25–26) claims that the division between shathi and pashi is associated with the struggle between the hero Pandavas (the sons of Pandu) and the anti-hero Kauravas (the sons of Kuru) in the pan-Indian epic the Mahabharata. The pashi are the followers of the Pandavas and the shathi are the followers of the Kauravas. However, during my f ieldwork most locals deny any connection to the Mahabharata, claiming instead that the dispute was a historical fight between khunds (communities of warriors).

36 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Map 2 Mahasu’s territory, with the division of shathi and pashi. In the middle is the village of Hanol, where the central temple of Mahasu is located

Map created by Asaf Sharabi based on data from OpenStreetMap

Gods on the Road

37

Shathi is the territory of Bashik, while pashi is the territory of Pabasi. Botha (whose name literally means “seated”) sits permanently in Hanol. His territory is both shathi and pashi, so he has many temples in both areas. The youngest brother, Chalda (whose name literally means “moving”), travels between shathi and pashi and also has temples in both areas. Within and adjacent to Mahasu’s territory are the territories of smaller royal deities such as Banar (Banāṛ) and Shari Banar (Śāṛī banāṛ), both in Jubbal region. Sometimes devtas are rivals: in those instances, the boundaries between the territories are carefully guarded and deities crossing them can causes tension between communities. One such case is the rivalry between Mahasu and Baindra (Baindrā), whose territory is in the Kotkhai region of Himachal Pradesh. A main difference between the royal deities of the Western Himalayas and the gods of the Hindu pantheon (such as Shiva or Vishnu) is their mobility. While the great gods of Hinduism are mostly grounded and believers visit them in their temples, devtas move within their territories on their palanquins to mark their sovereignty as kings (raja).26 The devtas have several types of movement. The first type is their regular itinerant journeying between a more or less fixed number of villages or regions, which usually follows a specific route. In the local language, this journey cycle is known as bhranshi. The devtas generally remain for one year in each village before going on to the next. Usually the devtas in the region follow a limited route that ends after a certain number of years, after which the cycle begins again. For example, Raithru and Shari Banar have defined routes of five villages each, while Banar moves between seven villages.27 Because they are perceived as rulers, this type of movement helps devtas exert religious and political control over their territories. The villages, which are usually located close to one another, unite around their shared devtas. On occasions such as annual festivals, when all the followers of a devta meet in one village, they act as one community. This type of movement therefore has a social value of redefining the social boundaries of communities around a specific devta. The second type of movement is meetings with other deities. This can take the form of a routine meeting or a one-time event. Routine meetings might be annual festivals, such as the Rohru mela, while a one-time event 26 See also Berti, 2009a, 2009b; Sax, 2006a; Sutherland, 2003, 2006. 27 These three devtas are considered brothers; their villages, and therefore their territories, are in the Jubbal region. To the seven core villages of Banar are added two more, located somewhat further away, that Banar visited for a year. He does not visit them in every round, however.

38 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Image 3  Devta on the move

Photo by Asaf Sharabi

could be the inauguration of a new or rebuilt temple for one of the devtas (pratishtha). In this case, other devtas come to honor the event with their presence. This type of spatial movement symbolizes the good relationship between not only devtas but also communities.28 The third type of movement is related to followers’ specific needs. The villagers invite a devta to be a guest in their home for one or two nights (ratri puja). This usually occurs after a request made to the devta has been fulfilled, and therefore is used to thank the devta and to pay tribute to him. However, ratri puja is also held to atone for a sin (pap) committed by a villager or to cure a curse (dosh) placed on him by the devta. The fourth type of movement is the expansion of a devta’s territory. In Mahasu’s case, this includes his expansion from the Bawar region (in Uttarakhand) to his currently vast territory. This seems to have happened more frequently in the past, as devtas now have more or less fixed territories. Mainly (but not only) during their journeys, the devtas receive royal treatment. While accompanying them, their worshippers carry flags and scepters, blow trumpets, and beat on drums in their honor. In these movements the devtas manifest through objects, nishans (literally, “signs”), usually in the form of a stick (chhari) or a bowl (doria). The most vivid manifestation of royalty is their palanquins (palki), which are usually borne by two people. 28 For elaboration of the different types of devta meetings, see Sutherland, 2003.

Gods on the Road

39

There are several styles of palanquin, but they all have two poles that support the platform and are decorated with ornaments such as flowers and jewelry. Palanquins styles can be classified into three main types. The first, a box style, is popular in Uttarakhand and in the southern parts of Himachal Pradesh, including Shimla district. Mahasu’s palanquin is of this type. It is small compared to other styles, covered with silver or gold, and usually has a tiny umbrella on top. Inside the box is a murti (image) or a nishan (sign) of the devta. What exactly the murti looks like or what nishan is in the box are secrets that are not easily revealed, and usually known only to those who manage the deities (kardars). In Mahasu’s territory, the devtas travel by palanquins containing their murtis. This is also the case with other devtas in the region, such as Banar and Shari Banar. The second type of palanquin comes in the shape of a chair or is covered by a large umbrella. It is characterized by the large number of metal, masklike faces (mohra) that cover it. In the event that the faces are not attached to the palanquins, they are sealed in a special box. Hence, they do not serve as murtis in the usual sense, such as objects displayed in temples for worship.29 This type of palanquin is popular in the Mandi and Kullu districts of Himachal Pradesh.30 The third type of palanquin is covered in long black yak’s hair, which hides the metal faces on the palanquin. It is a relatively large palanquin compared to the other styles. This type of palanquin is popular in the Kinnaur district of Himachal Pradesh and can also be found in nearby areas including the northern parts of Mahasu’s territory (Shikru, for example). Even a few of Mahasu’s palanquins are of this style. The shape of the palanquin influences how the devtas dance and manifest joy. In the first two cases, the palanquins usually move forward and backward, or tilt to the sides. In the third type, the palanquin goes up and down so the hair will flutter up and down according to the movement. The palanquins and the other moving objects are not the only way the deities manifest themselves. They also manifest and communicate with the villagers through human mediums (called mali in Mahasu’s territory). There are two ways in which devtas speak to the locals through mediums. In the first, they talk to a large audience about current affairs.31 29 Halperin, 2016: 19. 30 In Kullu valley there are many chair palanquins, while in Mandi the umbrella type is very popular. For more information on chair palanquins that were once used in burial rituals for high-ranking men in Nuristan, see Klimburg, 1999; Zoller, 2018b. 31 See, for example, Jassal, 2016.

40 

The Biogr aphy of a God

In the second, they talk to an individual or group of people about personal concerns, such as health issues, livelihood problems, and disagreements between people.32 Below is an example of this second kind of meeting, which I recorded in the main temple of Mahasu in Hanol. A family (father, mother, and sixteen-year-old daughter) approached (Botha) Mahasu in Hanol because the girl suffered from occasional possession by evil spirits. The family had come to Mahasu several times but there was no change in the girl’s condition. Therefore, this time the family came with a medium of Pokhu, their kul devta (family god).33 Mahasu revealed to the family that the source of the problem was a curse (dosh) inflicted by Pokhu because of a land dispute within the extended family. At some point the conversation went as follows: Mother: (turning to Pokhu) Devta tell us the way forward. Father: Bless us devta! Pokhu: This problem is in your own house. Mother: Devta, you have kept this secret (that he is responsible for this curse) and today Mahasu has revealed it.

At this point the spirit suddenly manifested in the girl. While still sitting her upper body began to shake rapidly, her hair became disheveled and she began to scream before Mahasu. Father: (turning to Mahasu) See devta what she has got? Mother: Devta, what could this be? Mahasu: (to the girl) What is it there in you? (to the evil power) Either you tell us, or shall I tell? Leave this girl’s body! Mother: Leave this girl’s body!

The girl did not say anything. Mahasu threw rice on her, the evil power departed, and the girl calmed down. Mahasu turned to Pokhu: “Now would you please tell more about their home (the problem in the family)?” Pokhu replied, “The devta (Mahasu) has related that this is a bhumi-dosh (a curse inflicted because of a land dispute).” Suddenly the evil power resurfaced in the girl. The mother begged, “Devta! Give us some solution.” The conversation continued: 32 See, for example, Bindi, 2012; Sax, 2004. 33 The main territory of Pokhu devta is Singtoor patti, an area of Mori tehsil, Uttarkashi district, Uttarakhand.

Gods on the Road

41

Mahasu: (to Pokhu) Tell them their fault (i.e., why he cursed them). Mother: Give peace to this girl. I am your daughter and this girl is a human being. Do not put any dosh on her. Pokhu: (to Mahasu) Should I apply to what she said or should I not? Mahasu: Do it! We need to absolve the sins (pap, that caused the problem). Mother: You (Mahasu) are the superior [devta], I am your daughter. Mahasu: You have come today (remembered me) when your home is surrounded with darkness (problems) and when you are left with no other choice. (The mother said, “yes devta!”) Let me tell you the solution for the differences among you (the dispute in the family). Remember your devta and come to worship me. (to the girl) Open your mouth.

Mahasu put rice grains in the girl’s mouth and blessed her. Mahasu and Pokhu promised to protect her and remove all illness in her body and thoughts (rog-vichaar). From an outsider’s perspective, it is fascinating to see how people converse with their gods, and how the gods converse with each other. In this case, a land dispute within the extended family involved a sin (pap) committed by one of the parties involved in the conflict. This led to a curse (dosh) from Pokhu, which eventually manifested in unusual behavior: the sporadic takeover of a girl’s body by an evil spirit. This episode shows how health issues are linked to relationships and disputes that sometimes arise between people. In many cases, the conflict is found within the extended family. Therefore, Mahasu usually addresses the issue of family unity.34 In this example, the devtas performed not only as healers who could cure the girl’s physical ailment but also as judges making decisions about interpersonal conflicts. Indeed, another expression of “government by deity” is the judicial competency ascribed to the deities.35 Many locals turn to the devtas to render judgment on interpersonal conflicts or dissension between villages. As such, devtas play the role of judges. Disputes regarding inheritance, and especially land disputes, are frequently raised before the devtas. Sometimes, in special cases, several devtas are involved in these decisions. Royal devtas also have political agency. They play an active role in socio-political issues through mediums and objects, especially in times of change—such as when locals oppose deforestation, soil erosion, the 34 On the importance of family unity in nearby regions in the Himalayas, see Bindi, 2022; Sax, 2009. 35 Berti, 2012; Malik, 2016: 89–139.

42 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Image 4  Medium (mali) in action

Photo by Asaf Sharabi

degradation of water sources, and pollution from private companies, or when a traditional mode of subsistence (for example, growing cannabis) goes against the judicial system.36 Major development projects by government agencies often need the permission of the deities to get things done smoothly or, indeed, at all. One striking example is the plans for an airport near the territory of Mahasu (in Theog, Shimla district) that was not built because of the refusal of a local goddess.37 However, the political power of the devtas is limited. Sometimes it seems that the deities cannot prevent change and that their agency is at risk. Such changes may be related to government decisions (like land reform), modernization processes, and climate change.38 As royal devtas, Mahasu and other strong devtas have many deities of lower rank who are subordinate to them. These deities, calls birs, are regarded as the soldiers or ministers of higher-ranked deities such as Mahasu. Some birs are more important than others, gain more power, and in certain areas can even change their status from bir to devta. This is the case of Sherkulia, one of the most important birs of Mahasu, who is regarded as a 36 Berti, 2011; Elmore, 2016: 207–211; Mahajan, 2011. 37 I obtained this information from Ruchi Ramesh, a sociologist from Shimla, who was born and raised in a village near Theog. See also Gautam, 2002: 64–65. 38 Halperin (2017) discusses climate change in Kullu Valley and how it has affected already growing doubts about divine agency. See also Elmore (2016: 58–90), for a description of a devta who lost his wealth and attraction after land reforms.

43

Gods on the Road

devta in two regions in Uttarakhand.39 In one of them he is even considered a manifestation of the god Hanuman. Finally, every devta has an administration that operates their temples and accompanies the devtas on their journeys. The management of Mahasu includes several roles: a wazir (head of the administration), pujari/deopuzia (priests), thani (priest assistants), and bhandari (equipment keepers). These positions are filled by members of the high-status castes (Brahmins and Rajputs), according to jetha custom. This means that the positions are passed from father to eldest son. 40 During rituals musicians also play an essential role of beating drums and blowing trumpets. Peter Sutherland, who did f ieldwork in Shimla district, vividly described the important role of the musicians: “When west Himalayan drummers play, power presents itself in everyday settings. Objects, people and places are transformed. Things become gods, gods become kings, and oracles give voice to their royal persons.”41 The bajgis, a low-status caste, fill this position. *** Mahasu and other devtas are social agents. They have social lives, interacting with humans as well as other devtas. Through objects and humans, they move, they talk, they order, they advise, they manifest joy and anger. The devtas call each other by names that indicate kinship, affection, and hierarchical relationships. Mahasu, for example, are four brothers, so they address each other with kin terms, such as bhaida/bhaidiya (brother). This term can also be heard among devtas that are not officially brothers, in the same way that humans use the term between non-biological brothers. Mahasu is a supreme devta, so some of the other deities address him in respectful terms such as aju (ancestor). Being social agents like humans, some devtas have a life story—where they came from, how they arrived in their current territories, and how they have behaved throughout the years. Their biographies include their relationships with humans as well as with other gods. In the next section I present the life story of Mahasu as far as I could trace it. It reveals changes in his identity over time, changes that reflect not only his social life but also that of his followers. 39 The names of the regions are Deogar and Fateh Parvat. 40 If he does not want to accept it, it goes to one of his brothers. Even if the eldest brother agrees, the function can still be shared between him and his brother(s). 41 Sutherland, 2006: 82.

44 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Bibliography Berreman, Gerald D. 1960. “Cultural Variability and Drift in the Himalayan Hills.” American Anthropologist 62 (5): 774–794. Berreman, Gerald D. 1963. Hindus of the Himalayas: Ethnography and Change. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Berreman, Gerald D. 1964. “Brahmins and Shamans in Pahari Religion.” The Journal of Asian Studies 23: 53–69. Berti, Daniela. 2009a. “Divine Jurisdictions and Forms of Government in Himachal Pradesh.” In Territory, Soil and Society in South Asia, edited by Daniela Berti and Gilles Tarabout, 311–339. Delhi: Manohar. Berti, Daniela. 2009b. “Kings, Gods, and Political Leaders in Kullu (Himachal Pradesh).” In Bards and Mediums in the Khas Kingdoms, edited by Marie LecomteTilouine, 107–136. Almora/Delhi: Himalayan Book Depot. Berti, Daniela. 2011. “Political Patronage and Ritual Competitions at Dussehra Festival in Northern India.” In Ritual, Heritage and Identity: The Politics of Culture and Performance in a Globalised World, edited by Christiane Brosius and Karin M. Polit, 126–148. New Delhi: Routledge. Berti, Daniela. 2012. “Ritual Faults, Sins, and Legal Offences: A Discussion about Two Patterns of Justice in Contemporary India.” In Sins and Sinners: Perspectives from Asian Religions, edited by Phyllis Granoff and Koichi Shinohara, 153–172. Leiden and London: Brill. Bhatt, G.S. 2010. Cult, Religion and Society: Polyandrous People of Western Himalaya. India: Rawat Publications. Bindi, Serena. 2012. “When There Were Only Gods, Then There Was No Disease, No Need for Doctors: Weakening Bodies and Forsaken Deities in the Indian Himalayas.” Anthropology and Medicine 19 (1): 85–94. Bindi, Serena. 2022. “Exorcising angry deities and spirits of the dead: Spiritual and earthly battles of married women in Uttarakhand (India).” Social Compass 1-28. Deen, Kalin. 2018. “Production and Marketing of Apple in Himachal Pradesh a Study of Shimla District.” PhD dissertation, Himachal Pradesh University. Elmore, Mark. 2005. “Stately (Dis)placement: Narrative, Place, and Postcoloniality.” Epoché: The University of California Journal for the Study of Religion 25 (2): 139–165. Elmore, Mark. 2016. Becoming Religious in a Secular Age. Oakland: University of California Press. Fraser, James. 1820. Journal of a Tour through a Part of the Snowy Range of the Himālā Mountains, and to the Sources of the Rivers Jumna and Ganges. London: Rodwell and Martin. Gautam, Padam Nabh. 2002. “Socio-Administrative System of Himachal Pradesh.” In Where Mortals and Mountain Gods Meet: Society and Culture in Himachal

Gods on the Road

45

Pradesh, edited by Laxman S. Thakur, 51–66. Shimla: Indian Institute of Advanced Study. Gazetteer of the Simla District. 2012 (1904). Volume VIII A. Delhi: B.R Publishing Corporation. Halperin, Ehud. 2016. “A Vehicle for Agency: Rath Rituals and the Construction of Himalayan Devtas as Complex Agents.” European Bulletin of Himalayan Research 48: 5–42. Halperin, Ehud. 2017. “Winds of Change: Religion and Climate in the Western Himalayas.” Journal of the American Academy of Religion 85 (1): 64–111. Handa, Om Chanda. 1995. “Introduction.” In Madhu Jain, The Abode of Mahashiva: Cults and Symbology in Jaunsar-Bawar in the Mid-Himalayas. New Delhi: Indus Publishing. Jassal, Aftab Singh. 2016. “Divine Politicking: A Rhetorical Approach to Deity Possession in the Himalayas.” Religions 7 (9): 117. Klimburg, Max. 1999. The Kafirs of the Hindu Kush: Art and Society of Waigal and Ashkun Kafirs. Volume 1: Text. Volume 2: Plates. Stuttgart: Steiner. Lalit, C.R.B. 1993. “Thodā: A Martial Game of the Khasha People of Himachal Pradesh.” In The Mahābhārata in the Tribal and Folk Traditions of India, edited by Kumar Suresh Singh, 66–78. New Delhi and Shimla: Indian Institute of Advanced Study and Anthropological Survey of India. Mahajan, Chakraverti. 2011. “Sacred Complex and Development: An Ethnographic Study of a Devta Institution in Himachal Pradesh.” Journal of Indian Anthropological Society 45 (2): 47–59. Majumdar, Dhirendra Nath. 1962. Himalayan Polyandry: Structure, Functioning and Culture Change. A Field-Study of Jaunsar-Bawar. Bombay: The Times of India Press. Malik, Aditya. 2016. Tales of Justice and Rituals of Divine Embodiment: Oral Narratives from the Central Himalayas. New York: Oxford University Press. Mehta, B.L. 2006. “Land Reforms in Himachal Pradesh (1948–1980).” Studies in Humanities and Social Sciences 13 (1): 41–63. Moran, Arik. 2019. “God, King, and Subject: On the Development of Composite Political Cultures in the Western Himalaya, circa 1800–1900.” The Journal of Asian Studies 78 (3): 577–600. Saksena, R.N. 1962 (1954). Social Economy of a Polyandrous People. Bombay: Asia Publishing House. Sati, Vishwambhar Prasad. 2020. “Population, Social and Economic Change.” In Himalaya on the Threshold of Change, edited by Vishwambhar Prasad Sati, 113–137. Cham, Switzerland: Springer Sax, William. 2004. “Healing Rituals: A Critical Performative Approach.” Anthropology and Medicine 11 (3): 293–306.

46 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Sax, William. 2006a. “Introduction: Divine Kingship in the Western Himalayas.” European Bulletin of Himalayan Research 29–30: 7–13. Sax, William. 2006b. “Rituals of the Warrior Khund.” European Bulletin of Himalayan Research 29–30: 120–133. Sax, William. 2009. God of Justice: Ritual Healing and Social Justice in the Central Himalayas. New York: Oxford University Press. Sharma, Neena. 2010. “SC Communities Still Oppressed Lot in Hills.” Tribune India, May 24, 2010. https://www.tribuneindia.com/2010/20100525/dplus.htm#1. Sutherland, Peter. 2003. “Very Little Kingdoms: The Calendrical Order of West Himalayan Hindu Polity.” In Sharing Sovereignty—Royalty on a Small Scale: The Little Kingdom in South Asia, edited by G. Berkemer and M. Frenz, 31–61. Berlin: Klaus Schwartz Verlag. Sutherland, Peter. 2004. “Local Representations of History and the History of Local Representation: Timescapes of Theistic Agency in the Western Himalayas.” European Bulletin of Himalayan Research 25–26: 80–118. Sutherland, Peter. 2006. “T(r)opologies of Rule (Raj): Ritual Sovereignty and Theistic Subjection.” European Bulletin of Himalayan Research 29–30: 82–119. Utter, Hans. 2010. Trance, Ritual and Rhythm: The Cult of Mahasu Deota in the Western Himalayas. Delhi: B.R. Rhythms. Verma, Tushar. 2015. A Study of Apple Marketing Channels in Jubbal Tehsil of Himachal Pradesh. MBA dissertation, Dr. Yashwant Singh Parmar University of Horticulture and Forestry. Vidal, Denis. 2006. “The Test of Traditions: A History of Feuds in Himachal Pradesh.” European Bulletin of Himalayan Research 29–30: 135–159. Wani, Firdous Ahmad, and Manoj Songara, 2018. “Status and Position of Apple Crop in Area, Production and Productivity in Himachal Pradesh.” International Journal of Multidisciplinary Research and Development 5 (11): 106–111. Zoller, Claus Peter. 2007. “Is Bangani a V2 Language?” European Bulletin of Himalayan Research 31: 83–141. Zoller, Claus Peter. 2018a. “A Little Known Form of Untouchability in the Central Himalayas.” In Reading Slowly: A Festschrift for Jens E. Braarvig, edited by Lutz Edzard, Jens W. Borgland, and Ute Hüsken, 475–488. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag. Zoller, Claus Peter. 2018b. “Pagan Christmas: Winter Feast of the Kalasha of the Hindu Kush and the True Frontiers of ‘Greater Peristan.’” Acta Orientalia 79: 163–377.

2

A Stormy Biography Abstract I begin by describing the initial appearance of Mahasu in his current territory and how his territory expanded over time. I also present the narratives of the locals with regard to the appearance of Mahasu, and I draw a comparison between old narratives (from the era of the British Raj) and modern narratives that I gathered during fieldwork. Finally, I show how current myths and stories about Mahasu reveal a conceptual change in Mahasu’s characteristics. Keywords: myths, narratives, biography of gods, British Raj

The Appearance of Mahasu: Version 1 It is hard to determine with any certainty when belief in Mahasu began, at least in its current configuration. Nineteenth-century British colonialism has provided several sources that allow us to conjecture, at least partially, the structure of Mahasu’s cult and how far it extends into the past. One early source that alludes to Mahasu is the writing of James Baillie Fraser, a Scottish traveler and artist who explored the Himalayas in 1815 and published his impressions five years later.1 Fraser mentions Mahasu in one solitary paragraph in connection with his chronicles of Bunkoulee village. He writes that the village is located near Lakha Mandal (“Lak,ha Mundul”), so it can be surmised that he is referring to Bhankoli village, which today has a Mahasu temple. The village is located in the Jaunsar-Bawar region, in the southern section of Mahasu’s territory. Two more historical sources that discuss Mahasu at length are the writings of Walter Hamilton, published in 1820, and those of George Robert Carlisle Williams, published in 1874.2 They also refer to Mahasu worship 1 2

Fraser, 1820: 400–401. Hamilton, 1820; Williams, 1874.

Sharabi, A., The Biography of a God: Mahasu in the Himalayas. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press 2023 doi: 10.5117/9789463726658_ch02

48 

The Biogr aphy of a God

in the Jaunsar-Bawar region, but unlike Fraser, they note that they did not actually visit Mahasu’s territory. Williams relies mainly on an 1827 report by Major Young, an English army officer. This means that both Williams and Hamilton researched the Mahasu phenomenon as it was described in the early decades of the nineteenth century. According to Hamilton and Williams, the belief in Mahasu originated in Deogar. “[B]eing the spot where the sect and tenets of the Mahassoo Dewtah religion originated,” Hamilton reports, “the division of Dewgur has been considered holy land.”3 Today, Deogar is where Sherkulia, one of Mahasu’s main birs, is dominant. According to Hamilton, “Brahminical traditions” describe how a snake sent by Mahasu was discovered by a man while plowing a field. The snake told the man to create an image “to be worshipped” and to obey his laws. Hamilton details three of Mahasu’s instructions. The f irst was: “Never to sleep in a bed with four legs.” The second: “Never to drink pure milk. Butter-milk is permitted, but it is meritorious to abstain from eating the butter, it being more praiseworthy to burn it at the places appointed for the worship of the Mahassoo Dewtah, or demigod.” And the third: “Always to sacrifice the finest goats at the demigod’s shrine, and if similar sacrifices elsewhere be abstained from—so much the better.”4 Now, the locals are only familiar with the first two injunctions in certain places like Bangan. Even there, they claim that they are outdated and no longer in use.5 With regard to the third, it is clear that the followers of Mahasu (similar to the followers of other gods) believe that they make proper sacrifices and choose the best goats to fulfill that particular command. According to Hamilton, after Mahasu appeared, Brahmins transferred his image from Deogar, an area on the west bank of the Tons River, to a place called Oonooree, located on the river’s eastern bank. In Williams’s text, the village where the main temple is situated is called Hunolee, a name that is similar to Oonooree in Hamilton’s book.6 Since Hanol is located east of the Tons River, whereas Deogar is located on the western side, it seems that the two sources refer to Hanol village, where the main temple of Mahasu is located to this day. In other words, although Hamilton and Williams report that Deogar is the area where it all began, their accounts indicate that the center of faith 3 Hamilton, 1820: 631–632. 4 Hamilton, 1820: 632. 5 Claus Peter Zoller reports that these instructions were valid when he performed his fieldwork in the Bangan area in the 1980s. See Moran, 2019. 6 Hamilton, 1820: 632; Williams, 1874: 171.

A Stormy Biogr aphy

49

in Mahasu moved to the other side of the Tons River, to the Bawar region, where Hanol is situated. We can therefore assume that Mahasu’s control over his territory most probably spread first in Bawar, around the villages of Hanol and Maindrath. This may be deduced from the reference to these two villages in the central myth about Mahasu (the katha), which describes the arrival of Mahasu from the Kashmir region.7 The main Mahasu temple is also located in this region, in Hanol. Finally, most people who currently hold bureaucratic and religious positions in Mahasu’s management hail from villages in Bawar such as Bastil, Chatra, Purtad, Ninus, Maindrath, and Bagi.8 In their references to Mahasu, neither Hamilton nor Williams mention the fact that Mahasu is actually a joint name for four brothers: Botha, Bashik, Pabasi, and Chalda. Hamilton mentions Mahasu briefly, and Williams writes about him at length, and yet he only mentions Mahasu’s generic name. This raises the question of which of the four brothers was the Mahasu that Hamilton and Williams referred to. Out of the four, the locals sometimes use the general title of Mahasu to refer to Botha.9 If so, then perhaps Botha is the Mahasu that Hamilton and Williams refer to. Evidently not, at least for Williams, because he states that Mahasu travels with a “palkee” (palanquin) and this practice is almost nonexistent for Botha; it is only practiced by the other three brothers. So which of the three remaining brothers is Williams referring to? Here is Williams’s report on the roaming customs of Mahasu: The Mahasoo, formerly all-powerful, still retains much of his ancient influence. […] This permanent residence is a temple at the village of Hunolee, in Khut Bawur, sixty miles from Kalsee, said to have been built by Shunkur Acharj, which he shares with another mysterious divinity, who always remains stationary. He himself used to visit Jounsar Bawur, and the neighboring hill state of Joobul, alternately, sojourning for a space of twelve years in each.10

The itinerant practice described by Williams—that is, twelve years in which Mahasu moves about in the Jaunsar-Bawar region, and then twelve years in Jubbal—is characteristic only of Chalda. Interestingly, Williams notes that 7 This myth does not appear in the accounts by Hamilton or Williams. 8 Moran (2019) comes to the same conclusion: according to the earliest reports on record, the heartland of Mahasu’s territory consisted of the region of Jaunsar-Bawar (currently in Uttarakhand) in the decades before the beginning of British rule in the region (1815). 9 It also happens in academic writing. See, for example, Majumdar, 1996. 10 Williams, 1874: 171–172.

50 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Mahasu’s temple in Hanol was shared with “another mysterious divinity who always remains stationary.” Since the local gods of the region usually travel from place to place, a divinity-entity that does not move constitutes an unusual and noteworthy phenomenon. It is Botha that does not wander. The katha, the well-known myth about Mahasu, relates that when Botha moved with his brothers from Kashmir to their current area of control, he injured his knee and therefore he decided to remain permanently in Hanol. Perhaps the mysterious divinity mentioned by Williams was Botha. If so, then it’s quite possible that at the time there was one divine entity named Mahasu (now called Chalda) who later merged with other local gods (including the “mysterious divinity”) into a family of brothers, all of whom answer to the name Mahasu. In the local Pahari dialect chalda/chalta means “walking” while botha means “sitting.” Presumably, there was originally only “Mahasu” and over the course of time people started making a distinction between the two types of Mahasu: the one who moves and the one who stays put. Thus when the Mahasu family originally developed, Mahasu referred to two devtas: the wandering Mahasu, called Chalda Mahasu, and the stationary Mahasu (in Hanol), called Botha Mahasu. Apart from the names (Chalda and Botha) that can imply one entity (bearing the name “Mahasu”) that evolved into two, even today there are examples of villagers ascribing a temple to a generic “Mahasu,” such as in the Balsa, Chonri, Dhadi, Jhalta, Sanji, and Todsa villages of Shimla district. These isolated instances, in which the name “Mahasu” is used generically, are probably vestiges of an earlier period when there was only one Mahasu. In some cases, the kardars (managers of the temple) mention the name of one of the four Mahasu brothers as the one that dwells in the temple, but they generally say “Mahasu” when they talk about the deity. Balsa is a good example. Once a year, as part of the Rohru mela (festival), Mahasu is carried in a palki (palanquin) from Balsa to Rohru, where he meets Shikru. According to almost everyone, this is a meeting between Shikru and Mahasu—not between Shikru and Botha or Chalda. When I pressed some of the locals in Balsa to define which Mahasu is in the temple or palki, most of them insisted that he is just “Mahasu,” while a few said it is “Chalda” or “both Botha and Chalda.” In Todsa, another village where everyone refers to the deity as “Mahasu,” a few locals claim it to be Pabasi, while the local medium claims it is Chalda. The point is that not only do most of the villagers not know which Mahasu brother is present in the temple in their village, but also some of them did not understand my question. For them, Mahasu is Mahasu—it is an identity in itself.

A Stormy Biogr aphy

51

Interestingly, in most cases where the name of the deity is just “Mahasu,” or where the locals do not identify exactly which Mahasu brother is present, the temple houses a palki. It seems, therefore, that in cases when there is no palki but only a nishan, it is easier to ascribe the temple to Botha; it is rare to find Botha in a temple with a palki. In a few villages—such as Sarhana, Annu, and Mural, all in the Jubbal region—Botha’s temple has both a nishan and a palki. However, these temples are the exceptions that prove the rule: Botha injured his knee when he arrived from Kashmir with his brothers, so he is not a god who moves from place to place with a palki. Thus, in temples that contain a palki, the identity remains that of the generic or blurred Mahasu, or is transformed into Chalda (or, to a lesser extent, Pabasi or Bashik) Prevailing cultural patterns in this region tolerate devtas with unclear identities or identities that change over time. Thus, it is legitimate to assume that a generic Mahasu could change his identity to Botha or Chalda. I have collected three other examples of gods with vague identities. The first is a local deity intermittently found in the villages of Sabhar and Dhadi in Shimla district. In Dhadi the devta is called Mahasu, while in Sabhar he is known as Sabharsu, but both villages also relate to him as Sherkulia, one of Mahasu’s birs. The second example is from Nehnar, a small village near Jubbal. In 2013 the villagers debated whether the local temple belonged to Chalda or to one of his birs. To figure out the answer they visited the main temple of Mahasu in Hanol to ask the devtas themselves and discovered that the latter was correct. A more striking example of identity change is found in the village of Pujarli, near Kotkhai. According to a local myth, their chief devta was formerly a goddess, and the villagers themselves changed the deity’s gender identity. Today the devta, called Nandrari (Nandrāṛī), is also known as the Durga of Pujarli. These examples demonstrate the fluid nature of the gods’ identities, and therefore the possibility that the generic Mahasu eventually turned into two Mahasus, one walking and one sitting, and that this was followed by the addition of Bashik and Pabasi. Since then, all four brothers bear the name Mahasu. Another point in favor of this theory is the fact that in the region under discussion, family relationships among the devtas are elastic and blur over time. Thus, for example, W.H. Emerson, who wrote about Mahasu at the beginning of the twentieth century, considers Gudaru (Guḍāru) as the fifth brother in the Mahasu family.11 Another example comes from G.S. Bhatt, who wrote that in the region near Purola, some people view Odaru 11 Emerson, Mss.Eur.E.321, chapter 4, 15. I heard the same notion from one of my informants in Rohru, the area where Emerson collected his data about Mahasu. He told me that when he

52 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Jakhandi as the fifth brother of the Mahasu family.12 I heard a similar opinion about Banar. In Sirthi, a village with temples to both Botha and Banar, people told me that Banar is the brother of the four Mahasu brothers, just as Karna is the stepbrother of the five Pandavas (the primary characters of the epic Mahabharata). As one villager explained: “It is very tough to identify it because we have no authentic proof. But we have listened to our ancestors. They have told us that he (Banar) is also a brother [of Mahasu].” After establishing themselves in and around the Bawar region, the Mahasu brothers expanded their territorial spheres of control through the activity of Chalda, Botha, and “Mahasu.” During the colonial period, the expansion of Mahasu’s domain was described by British writers as achieved through threats, blackmail, and negotiation. This created an atmosphere of tension between the deities and their followers. Chalda (or “Mahasu”), in particular, is described as roaming with his palanquin and forcing the locals to worship him. The expansion of Botha’s area (through his nishans) was carried out either at his initiative or at the request of a village that wanted to accept his rule. Once the nishan arrived in a village from the main temple of Hanol (either at the request of the villagers or accidentally), a temple to Botha was established and worship of Botha imposed. Another of Botha’s techniques is the theft of his nishans by people who seek access to his holiness or monetary gain. In the Jubbal region I was frequently informed that Botha is happy to be stolen, because through the thieves’ seemingly bad action he can spread his influence and enlarge his territory.13 Due to the constant expansion of their territories, Botha and Chalda have become very popular devtas, who exert greater influence than Bashik and Pabasi. The results of this expansion process, mainly by Botha and Chalda, are apparent in the geographic reach of Mahasu’s temples. O.C. Handa has counted 166 Mahasu temples (including temples of his prominent birs), most located in the Shimla district of Himachal Pradesh. The temples in Uttarakhand are mostly in the Jaunsar-Bawar region, which also hosts the main temple in Hanol. However, Handa’s count is not complete, and the number of temples is higher.14 was a child his grandmother, who was a follower of Gudaru, had told him that Gudaru is the eldest of the Mahasu brothers. 12 Bhatt, 2010: 197–198. 13 In the Jubbal, Rohru, and Chirgaon regions of Himachal Pradesh, Botha is not allowed to enter houses during ratri-puja. The locals are afraid that by doing so he will take over ownership of the house. 14 Handa, 2004: 346–349. As an example, he mentions only five temples in Jaunsar-Bawar, whereas that region has many more temples of Mahasu.

53

A Stormy Biogr aphy

Image 5  Nishan (sign) of Botha

Photo by Asaf Sharabi

*** During the British colonial period, Mahasu’s territory crossed geopolitical boundaries. It comprised territories under direct British control, such as Jaunsar-Bawar, and states and principalities under indirect colonial rule, such as the princely state of Jubbal. These regions had different political structures. The most significant political unit in Jaunsar-Bawar was the khat, which consisted of several villages. Each khat was headed by a sayana/siana, and the four main sayana constituted the senate (chauntru) that ruled the entire region. In nearly every khat was a khund village—a village where the inhabitants were Rajputs, who were known for their aggressiveness and combat skills.15 British rule exercised a firmer grip on the region; for example, the British restricted the movements of Chalda Mahasu in 1827 and abolished the institution of chauntru altogether.16 Although the neighboring kingdom of Sirmaur off icially controlled the socio-political structure of Jaunsar-Bawar, the area was relatively 15 Bhatt, 2010: 114–120. 16 Moran, 2019; Williams, 1874: 219–240.

54 

The Biogr aphy of a God

independent and was under the control of Mahasu and his administration. Thus the socio-political structure in Jaunsar-Bawar fell under the jurisdiction of the chief priest of Hanol village, and the area was in effect administered by what Arik Moran has called a “grassroots theocracy.”17 In the Shimla Hill States, the socio-political situation was again different: several ruling dynasties (rana and thakurs) controlled provinces and small states that were neither strong nor well established.18 Their disengagement from Hanol gave Jubbal and its neighboring states extra freedoms (for example, paying fewer taxes to Mahasu), which translated into political instability as each community demanded independence in the name of its local god.19 The British sought to demarcate the boundaries of the region more clearly and empower the rulers of the Shimla Hill States. At the same time, the rulers themselves were becoming Sanskritized and thus increasingly connected to pan-Indian traditions. They therefore started to take a more assertive stance vis-à-vis local gods like Mahasu.20 Nevertheless, Mahasu continued to exert great influence over the region, especially Jubbal. This is evidenced by the fact that, until 1972, Shimla district of Himachal Pradesh (which also comprised the sub-district of Jubbal) was called Mahasu district. In this section I have described the appearance of Mahasu in his current territory using textual resources, evidence from fieldwork, and reasonable conjectures. Not surprisingly, the villagers have a different narrative, which is the subject of the next section.

The Appearance of Mahasu: Version 2 The most important myth about Mahasu (Mahasu ki katha) tells how the Mahasu brothers migrated from Kashmir to their current area, killed the demons who ruled there, and established Hanol as the capital of their kingdom. This story (katha) was documented by British off icers and scholars of the Western Himalayas of the late nineteenth century and beginning of the twentieth, and appears in ethnographic reports and bureaucratic records. When I first came to Mahasu’s territory, with my two companions, Hagar and Adva, one of our goals was to ascertain whether the katha as documented by the British had been preserved 17 18 19 20

Moran, 2019: 6. Singh, 2013. Moran, 2019. Moran, 2019.

A Stormy Biogr aphy

55

into the second decade of the twenty-first century. To do so, we moved between villages asking locals to tell us the story of Mahasu’s arrival from Kashmir. To our surprise, some locals were not familiar with the story at all, and certainly not its extended version. Many people could tell us that Mahasu came from Kashmir and killed the demons who ruled their present area, but few knew anything more. In Jubbal, my main research area, I was told more than once to go to Hanol, where they could tell me about him, especially about his arrival from Kashmir. Still, some locals did know and wanted to relate the story. Before comparing the old versions of the katha with the new ones, let me first elaborate on the versions collected by the British. From the British era it is possible to trace three versions of the katha. The first can be found in Edwin T. Atkinson’s book, published in 1884.21 A second version of the katha is recorded in Herbert W. Emerson’s unpublished manuscript from the beginning of the twentieth century.22 Finally, a book published by Rose, Ibbetson, and MacLagan contains two versions of the katha—but one is a duplicate of Emerson’s version.23 These three versions of the katha documented in British texts have been quoted again and again by scholars throughout the years.24 Of the three British versions, Emerson’s account, is both the most detailed and the most similar to those circulating today. I have therefore chosen to present his version of the katha here, and I compare it with the other two versions in the notes. Emerson’s account begins as follows: In the old days the area between the Tons and Pabbar rivers was populated by demons, bloodthirsty creatures, and cannibals. The kingdom of the demons was ruled brutally and tyrannically by a demon (rakshasa) called Kirmat-Danu (Kirmir Danu, in the modern recounting of the myth). He was particularly fond of human blood and he demanded a human sacrifice twice a year from each hamlet in the territory he ruled. In a village called Madart (should be Maindrath), located alongside the Tons River, the place where the demons dwelt and where they held their 21 A footnote in Atkinson (1884: 836–839) indicates that the source of this story is “information locally procured for me by Mr. F. Fisher, C.S.” Atkinson does not specify when the myth was recorded or who narrated it to Mr. Fisher. Neither Hamilton (1820: 631–632) nor Williams (1874) mention this myth. 22 Sir Herbert Emerson was a British administrator in Bushahr and Mandi States in the early twentieth century. He must have documented this myth sometime during those years. Emerson was familiar with Atkinson’s version, and claims that since his version was narrated to him directly “by a manager of the Hanol temple,” it is “presumably the authentic version” of the myth. 23 Rose, Ibbetson, and MacLagan (1919) recount two versions of this myth: Emerson’s version on pages 303–315, and a third version on pages 404–419. 24 See, for example, Handa, 2004; Handa and Jain, 2009; Walton, 1910.

56 

The Biogr aphy of a God

feasts, lived a Brahmin named Uṇa Bhat (today Huna Bhat) with his wife Kirtika and their seven sons. Six of the sons were sacrificed to Kirmat-Danu, who then also wanted the seventh.25 Several months before the sacrifice of their seventh son, Huna’s wife was possessed and proclaimed in a clear voice: “Mahasu, Mahasu, Mahasu of Kashmir will save our son.” Huna, not knowing who Mahasu was, tried to f ind out more. His wife, still possessed, explained that he had to go to Kashmir and ask for Mahasu’s help. Huna initially refused, due to his advanced age and physical condition, and because Kashmir was far away. Kirtika, angry and still under an external influence, insisted that he go anyway.26 Because Huna did not know the way to Kashmir, he sought guidance from the priest (pandit) of the temple in Hatkoti, who had visited Kashmir. The priest told Huna that the journey had taken him twelve years to accomplish, when he was young in body and in mind. For Huna, with his poor vision and a weak body, the trip would be a death sentence. But Huna persisted and finally convinced the priest, who blessed him before his journey. His blessing caused Huna to become light and youthful, his body rose into the air, and suddenly he found himself next to a huge lake in Kashmir.27 In Kashmir Huna met Chekurya (Sherkulia, a deity, one of Mahasu’s main ministers) and told him about his problem. Sherkulia directed him to a field located near water, to wait for Mahasu to come to his aid. From the ground emerged a golden image. Huna hugged the golden image to his heart and begged him for help: “You must either kill me or come with me.” Mahasu replied that he would surely come and rescue the child from the demon. He told Huna that he must follow explicit instructions: return home, make a silver plow with a golden plowshare, and plow the field with two bulls that had never been yoked to a plow. On the seventh Sunday, Mahasu, his brothers, his ministers, and army would come to help Huna, so he should make sure not to plow the field on that day. After saying this, Mahasu’s 25 In Rose, Ibbetson, and MacLagan (1919: 404–419), the demon devours all seven brothers. In Atkinson’s account, Huna Bhat had three sons and a daughter. They survived, and not only the seventh son, as in Emerson’s version. He therefore sought Mahasu’s help to avenge the death of his kin who were killed by the demon, not to save his children’s lives. 26 In Rose, Ibbetson, and MacLagan (1919: 404–419), the demon appears in front of the chaste wife and desires to have her. It is only by praying to God that she is able to flee from the demon. In Atkinson’s account, Mahasu appears in Huna’s dream. 27 In Rose, Ibbetson, and MacLagan (1919: 404–419), Huna and his wife go to Hatkoti to pray to Hateshwari (Haṭeśvarī), where the goddess tells them to go to Kashmir to seek help from Shiva. In Atkinson’s account, the couple goes to Kashmir directly, without stopping in Hatkoti.

A Stormy Biogr aphy

57

Image 6 The temple in Maindrath. The temple is near the field from which Mahasu emerged

Photo by Asaf Sharabi

image began to shake and slipped out of Huna’s hands, and in an instant Huna reappeared back in his village.28 Once home, Huna did exactly what he was told. On the sixth Sunday, he plowed five furrows, out of which came five devtas: first came Botha, then Pabasi, the third was Bashik, the fourth Chalda, and the fifth was the divine mother, Devtari.29 From the field, officers and a large army appeared, among them four ministers: Sherkulia, Kapla (Kaplā), Kailu, and Kailath (Kailāth).30 Seeing this, Huna fell to the ground and fainted. The gods’ presence filled him with power and he regained consciousness to lead them to the abode of the demons, which was located in a deep pool. The demons were 28 In Atkinson’s version, Huna meets a watchman in Kashmir, who gives him explicit instructions for meeting the Mahasu brothers and getting their help. When Huna meets the Mahasu brothers, it is Chalda who equips him with rice and instruments and instructs him what to do next in Maindrath. In Rose, Ibbetson, and MacLagan (1919: 404–419), Huna meets Shiva, who is pleased with Huna’s prayer and worship. Shiva gives him rice, flowers, and a lamp and provides instruction on how to properly worship him back home. 29 In Atkinson’s version, Bashik came first, followed by Pabasi, Botha, and Chalda. In Rose, Ibbetson, and MacLagan (1919: 404–419), Mahasu (Botha) came first, then Chalda, Bashik, and Pabasi. In both versions, the name of the mother is Deolari (Deolāṛī). 30 Emerson also mentions Chaharya, who has an official role in Mahasu’s court. Atkinson and Rose, Ibbetson, and MacLagan (1919: 404–419) mention the names of other deities.

58 

The Biogr aphy of a God

not strong enough to resist the forces of the gods and after a short time only Kirmat-Danu remained. He fled to the bank of the Pabbar river to a place called Barwara, where the gods cut him to pieces on a rock. Even now, Emerson writes, one can see the sword marks on that rock.31 The reason given for Mahasu’s early arrival in Maindrath is either impatience or a miscalculation of the date. Either way, this uncoordinated arrival and the fact that Huna had plowed the field that day harmed the gods, who were hiding in the ground and were consequently touched by the blade of the plow. Botha injured his knee and has been limping ever since. A piece of Pabasi’s ear was cut off, while Bashik’s eye was injured and his sight was impaired. Since then, Botha has stayed in Hanol, and Bashik and Pabasi journey between nearby villages. Chalda’s comparatively good health allows him to roam freely, so he rules in his brothers’ territories. This is the reason for Chalda’s extensive power and why he is worshipped so widely.32 *** Although there are some differences, the three versions of the story that were collected in the British era contain the same main themes. In the past the area was ruled by demons led by Kirmir, who demanded human sacrifices. Huna Bhat sought to change this by traveling to Kashmir to ask for divine help, which was promised to him. Shortly after he returned home, the Mahasu brothers and their divine entourage emerged from the earth, killed the demons, and have been ruling in the area ever since. One of the two versions that appears in Rose, Ibbetson, and MacLagan’s 1919 book is styled as a folk song, composed mostly in doha and chaupai meters (similar to the Ramayana).33 This version also contains many Shaivite elements. First and foremost, Huna Bhat meets the spirit of Shiva in Kashmir, who agrees to help him. The idea that Mahasu is part of Shiva (or Shiva 31 In Rose, Ibbetson, and MacLagan (1919: 404–419), it is Chalda who kills Kirmir, while in Atkinson, it is Kailu. Atkinson provides additional information about Huna’s three children: they are each assigned roles in Mahasu’s belief system as Pujari, Rajput, or bajgi. In today’s context, it is interesting to note that the bajgis (who are not considered a high-status caste) are also descendants of Huna. 32 In Atkinson, the Mahasu brothers are described as injured when reaching Maindrath, but it is not clear how they were injured. Bashik is described as injured in the hip and Botha injured in the eye. This does not match other versions and does not explain why Botha would settle in Hanol. Rose, Ibbetson, and MacLagan (1919: 404–419) make no mention of any injuries. 33 Rose, Ibbetson, and MacLagan, 1919: 404–419.

59

A Stormy Biogr aphy

himself) is therefore more solid in this version than in the others. In addition, the devis (goddesses) have a major role in this version: Hateshwari from Hatkoti advises Huna Bhat and his wife to go to Kashmir, and there is an impressive description of how the Mahasu brothers emerge in Maindrath from different parts of their mother.34 In general, in this version Huna often prays and worships the gods. Finally, when the Mahasu brothers institute their kingdom in Hanol, they instruct Huna to use hymns from the Vedas to worship them. This Shaivite version was probably documented in the Shimla Hill States, as some elements connected to that region are mentioned.35 For example, this version mentions Banar, a devta who dwells in the Jubbal area, and casts him in a very prominent position. Moreover, the names of deities and places in this version of the katha include many from the areas surrounding Jubbal.36 In addition, as I describe below, I heard contemporary versions that are similar to this version only in the Jubbal area. It is therefore not unreasonable to assume that Rose, Ibbetson, and MacLagan’s version originated in the Jubbal area. *** Over the years, new versions of the katha have been collected by scholars, based on ethnographic fieldwork.37 Some versions are more detailed than others. G.S. Bhatt’s work is particularly exceptional in this regard, as he collected five versions of the katha between the years 1953 to 1999.38 One of his sources is a booklet written in the 1990s by Lal-Das and Madan-Das, two musicians (bajgis) from Bagi, a central village in the Bawar area.39 The version in the booklet is similar to the one that appeared in a CD produced by two priests (pujaris) from Mahasu’s temple in the village of Thaina. 40 34 Botha from Deolari’s head, Chalda from her chest, and Bashik and Pabasi from her raised hands. 35 See Bhatt (2010: 163) for the same assessment. 36 For example, the Masmoor area of Bangan as well as Bushehr state are mentioned. The deities Baindra and Chikreshwar, who dwell in the Kotkhai and Theog areas, are also mentioned. 37 See, for example, Bhatt, 2010; Elmore, 2005; Majumdar, 1996: 104–105. 38 Bhatt, 2010. 39 They narrated the myth to their son, Sant Ram, who published it (Bhatt, 2010: 128). This version also appears in Utter (2010) and Ohri (2019). 40 The CD was a collaboration between several people, all from the shathi area. One of them is Sant Ram, a bajgi from Bagi village. Sant Ram is the son of Lal Das and Madan Das, who were responsible for the booklet mentioned above. Another person who collaborated in the production of the CD is Puran Nath, a Nath shopkeeper in Hanol. Although he is not a member

60 

The Biogr aphy of a God

This CD was released at the beginning of September 2013, at the time of Mahasu’s Jagra (annual festival). During this period, I was conducting my first field visit in the research area, and my two companions, Adva and Hagar, and I were collecting versions of the katha from people around Mahasu’s territory. In all I have collected seventeen versions, some with Adva and Hagar during our first trip in 2013, and the rest during subsequent trips. Most of the versions were from the Jubbal and Bawar regions. 41 Comparing recent versions of the katha, including the CD and booklet, with the versions that appear in the British texts reveals some differences. In contemporary versions Huna Bhat’s wife does not become possessed (as seen in Emerson’s manuscript), but instead hears the voice of Sherkulia, who promises to protect her son and advises her to seek help from Mahasu in Kashmir. 42 In some of these versions, including the booklet, Sherkulia appears to Huna’s wife after a devil harassed her while she was drawing water from the lake. The devil escapes when Sherkulia appears. In some other recent versions, Huna’s wife does not appear in the story at all. Huna finds out about Kashmir by himself. According to the CD, the booklet, and a few of my informants, the journey to Kashmir is difficult and does not happen in a flash, as described in the British accounts. However, most of my informants did not provide information about the journey. A few of the current versions, including in the CD, describe the meeting between Huna and Mahasu in Kashmir similar to Emerson’s description: a brief meeting in which Mahasu promises to come to Maindrath after Huna prays for help. However, according to most of my informants and the booklet, it is not that easy. For a start, the Mahasu brothers are not eager to even meet human beings, let alone go to Maindrath to help Huna. Sherkulia has to persuade Mahasu to leave their location (pond/cave/underground water) and meet Huna. 43 In the booklet, Chalda sends some of his birs (soldiers, lower-ranking deities) to locate Huna but Sherkulia performs some magic and they do not succeed. Finally, according to the booklet and some of my of a high-status caste, he is considered to be a guru, an adviser to Mahasu. It is in his shop that I purchased the CD in 2013 and again in 2019. 41 Villages in Himachal Pradesh: Jubbal, Shari, Sundli, Sirthi, Dhar, Khashdhar, Pronti, and Saraji. Villages in Uttarakhand: Thadiyar, Hanol, Maindrath, Koti (Bawar), Bastil, Chiwan, and Dagoli. 42 In oral versions, the name of Huna’s wife is not usually mentioned, but she was rarely referred to as Kirtika, as found in Emerson’s version. In the booklet and CD, the name of the wife is given as Kailavati. 43 Nag (snake) deities are associated with ponds and springs. In Handa’s (2004) view, this is one of the pieces of evidence proving that Mahasu is of nag descent. Rose, Ibbetson, and MacLagan (1919: 407) mention that the Mahasu brothers are also called “the Nag Chauth,” the four nags.

A Stormy Biogr aphy

61

informants, when Mahasu emerges from the water, Huna holds their feet (or only Chalda’s feet), as he was advised to do by Sherkulia, and asks for their help. After some negotiation they agree to aid Huna. 44 An interesting version I heard from informants in the Jubbal area involves Kailu, a prominent bir of Mahasu. 45 In this version Mahasu smell a human being, so they send Kailu to investigate. Kailu takes a bribe (rishvat) from Huna in the form of rot (large bread) and tells Mahasu that there is no one there. Kailu tells Huna that when Mahasu emerges, Sherkulia will come out first, whistle, and spread heat. Kailu therefore advises Huna to hide in ashes (or coal), and so he does. Eventually, when Mahasu emerges, Huna holds their feet (or only Chalda’s feet), as advised by Kailu, and asks for their help. In recent versions Huna arrives home immediately, as described in Emerson’s account, but he does so with the help of Sherkulia, and in some versions also of Kailu. 46 In the versions recorded in the Jubbal area, Huna stops in a village named Sandor during his trip home. According to this version, the first temple of Mahasu was established there. In current versions, Mahasu (or Chalda) gives Huna flowers in a basket and instructs him to bury them in a field (or a well) in his village and to plow the field with a blade made of gold. In most versions (including in the CD and the booklet), Huna is told to plow the field on the seventh day (not the seventh Sunday). The order of the brothers’ appearances differs between recent accounts. In most of them Bashik is the first to appear—for he is the eldest in these versions—and Chalda is the last because he is the youngest. In some versions (including the CD and the booklet) Botha is the second and Pabasi is the third, while in others Pabasi is second and Botha is third. In a few versions, mostly from the Jubbal area, Pabasi is the first to emerge. In the CD, Mahasu’s mother, Deolari, appears before her sons; in the booklet, as in Emerson’s account, she emerges last. 47 In the CD and booklet, Kailu jumped into the lake where Kirmir was hiding. According to the booklet and one of my informants, this was after Bashik offered Kailu a bribe, or rishvat. As a result, Kirmir leaves the lake 44 The versions in Atkinson and Rose, Ibbetson, and MacLagan (1919: 404–419) provide a longer description of the meeting between Huna and the Mahasu brothers in Kashmir. However, in these two versions, Huna does not need to persuade Mahasu to help him or come to Maindrath. 45 Kailu is usually pronounced Kailū in Jaunsar-Bawar, Kaulū in Jubbal region, and Kauīlū in the Rohru and Chirgaon regions. 46 In Atkinson this journey is immediate, while in Rose, Ibbetson, and MacLagan (1919: 404–419) it takes “many days.” 47 In the CD and booklet her name is given as Dharmakala (Dharmakalā).

62 

The Biogr aphy of a God

and starts to flee, but is caught by Mahasu near Kuddu. While in Emerson’s version Mahasu kills Kirmir, in most of the current versions Kirmir is killed by both Kailu and Sherkulia or one of the two. 48 *** The British accounts and contemporary versions shed light on the nature of the Mahasu brothers. They were not royal deities in Kashmir; they became royalty when they came to Hanol and established a kingdom. As gods, they have tremendous power, which enables them to kill demons—but they also have human qualities and vulnerabilities. Thus three of them were injured during their appearance in Maindrath. It is also possible to detect connections between the katha and pan-Indian narratives. For example, in some versions the demons’ rule in the area is the result of the Pandavas (heroes of the Mahabharata) absence at the beginning of Kali-Yuga and the departure of Krishna from the world. 49 Another connection can be seen in the appearance of Mahasu and their army from the ground and its similarity to the appearance of Sita from below the earth when it was plowed by Raja Janaka in the Ramayana.50 Thus, the action that creates a king-god is similar to the pan-Indian context. Some of the versions emphasize details related to the locality. For example, in a version heard from a man who lives in Shari, a village that worships both Mahasu and Shari Banar, the importance of Banar in the story was underscored. In the Jubbal area, where Botha is the main ruler, the role played by Sherkulia (Chalda’s minister) was attributed to Kailu (Botha’s minister). Thus, when Huna arrives in Kashmir, he first meets Kailu, who accepts a bribe to set up a meeting with Mahasu. Further, it was only in the Jubbal area that Sandor is mentioned as the first place Mahasu visits on the trip from Kashmir.51 *** 48 Rose, Ibbetson, and MacLagan (1919: 404–419) note that Chalda kills Kirmir. In Atkinson Kailu kills Kirmir after Kailu is promised that “all goats sacrif iced to the Mahasu should be killed at the door of his house.” 49 In his recent linguistic anthropological study, Zoller (2007) claims that the katha was structured on patterns from the Mahabharata, for two reasons. The f irst is to demonstrate that Mahasu is the rightful successor of the Pandavas of the Mahabharata, and the second is to demonstrate the superiority of the Brahmins. See also Zoller, 2001. 50 Skanda:1.66, 14–15. 51 On the importance of place in oral narratives, see Elmore, 2005.

A Stormy Biogr aphy

63

When comparing the British and current versions of the katha, one prominent difference is the significant roles played by Sherkulia and Kailu, two of Mahasu’s birs. In newer versions they appear in Maindrath (Sherkulia), in the meeting with Mahasu in Kashmir (Sherkulia and Kailu), and in the battle against the demons (Sherkulia and Kailu). The birs in the katha help expel the demons, but the measures they use are not always righteous and dharmic. This can be seen, for example, in Kailu’s decision to accept bribery in the shape of rot (large bread) in return for hiding Huna from Mahasu or killing the demon. Either Sherkulia or Kailu lies to Mahasu by saying that there is no human near the pool/lake. Even though Mahasu (or just Chalda) suspects that this is a lie, Sherkulia or Kailu insists that no one is hiding there. It seems that the devta uses the bir to do things that he himself cannot afford to or does not want to do, such as killing the demon, because of his kingly-divine status. The prominent role of the birs as mediators with less righteous and dharmic qualities demonstrates the change that has taken place in Mahasu’s identity. By using a mediator, Mahasu distances himself, at least to some extent, from Pahari traits and identity. Another prominent difference between the various versions of the katha is that some of the newer ones have additional episodes that are not mentioned in the British accounts. The first of these episodes happens after the demons are killed: Mahasu turns to f ight Vishnu, who is the king in Hanol. He challenges him to a test of who can produce more gold. Vishnu assumes that, as a king he would have more gold, but Chalda tricks him and turns sand into gold or at least makes it look like gold.52 Another episode describes how the brothers divided the territories among themselves—Botha in Hanol, Bashik in the shathi area, and Pabasi in the pashi area. Seeing this, Chalda becomes very angry because no special region has been left for him, so he announces that he is returning to Kashmir. Bashik, the eldest, calms his younger brother and gives him his chhatar (umbrella), telling him that he can stay as a guest in his region for twelve years at a time. Pabasi says the same regarding his territory, and Botha tells him that he can spend one night in Hanol every twelve years, when he moves from Bashik’s (shathi) to Pabasi’s region (pashi). In both of these new additions to the story Chalda is the main protagonist. The first story seems to highlight Chalda’s trickster character, a trait that is 52 According to the CD and booklet, Vishnu’s test lasted for nine days and nights. In the CD, it is Botha’s idea to turn sand into gold, a plan that was carried out by all four Mahasus. In the booklet, this deception was carried out by Sherkulia. Both the CD and the booklet describe how the Mahasu brothers fought with other rulers.

64 

The Biogr aphy of a God

highly emphasized today when speaking of him. The second story probably offers an explanation for how the chhatar became part of the tangible expression of Chalda (alongside the palki, doria, etc.). The chhatar is an auspicious symbol in Hinduism, and it connects Chalda to Sanskritic traditions. Two additional stories that appear in the current versions of the katha link Mahasu to the Sanskrit traditions in more profound ways. The first is a local version of a story that appears in Brahminic-Puranic (Shaivite) texts. In brief, Ganesha and his brother Skanda (Swami Kartik or Kumara) compete to see who can go around the world faster. The victor will receive the fruit of knowledge (in another version, the victor will be the first to marry). Since Ganesha is slower than his brother, he decides to circumnavigate his parents instead. He tells his parents, Shiva and Parvati, that they constitute the world and thereby he wins the competition. A few of my informants, the CD, and the booklet also relate this story, but with a surprising ending. In the local version, Shiva has two sons: Ganesha and Kartik swami. They fight about who will rule after Shiva or when he is not available. The competition between the brothers is about who would be the first to circle the universe, but Kartik swami has garuda (eagle) as his vehicle and Ganesha has only a rat. They start the competition, but when Ganesha sees he is about to lose, he goes to his mother to complain. She tells him that Shiva is like the whole universe, so circling him is like circling the world. Ganesha wins the contest by following Parvati’s advice. Seeing that his mother preferred his younger brother, Kartik swami feels abused and sad, so he cuts himself up into four pieces of flesh from which the four Mahasu brothers are created. They live in a pool in Kashmir.53 After this addition, the rest of the katha continues as usual. Without harming the autonomous story of Mahasu, this version explicitly links the katha with the Brahminic-Puranic tradition. Another story, recorded only in the booklet and CD, tells how the four main birs of Mahasu were created. The CD version relates that Shiva and Parvati go to the Himalayas to meditate. A devil named Karmasur starts to interrupt them. Shiva becomes very angry, so he cuts four parts from his own body and turns into a stone (a lingam) to save himself from the devil. From the four parts of his body four birs are born: Kapla, Kailu, Kailath, and Sherkulia. Taking up swords, all four birs set out to kill the demon in the 53 The versions in the CD and the booklet differ somewhat. Ganesha and Kartik fought over who would conduct the agrim puja. The competition between the brothers was about who would visit four important pilgrimage sites. In the end Parvati said that Shiva himself is a pilgrimage site, and therefore there was no need to visit anywhere.

A Stormy Biogr aphy

65

name of Shiva. The story relates how they eventually kill the demon, but what is important here is that not only are the Mahasu brothers related to Shiva, but their four main birs are as well. Moreover, if the Mahasu brothers are made from parts of Kartik, the birs are made from parts of Shiva himself. These Brahminic-Puranic aspects do not appear in either the British versions of the katha, nor in the oral versions of the katha that have been recorded by scholars over the last century.54 I argue that this reflects a movement of local epistemological tenets towards a more holistic pan-Indian notion of divinity by directly linking Mahasu to the pan-Hindu gods. This growing identification with Shiva is not only evident in the stories about the origin of the Mahasu brothers and their four main birs, but also in some versions of the katha itself. For example, two informants in the Jubbal region ascribed a prominent role to Shiva in their narration of the katha. Unlike in the common version, in their story Huna Bhat does not meet Mahasu or one of his birs in Kashmir; instead, he meets Shiva. The informants’ version apparently resonates with the Shaivite version of the katha that appears in Rose, Ibbetson, and MacLagan’s version.55 Even so, the current versions contain more Sanskritic elements than found in Rose, Ibbetson, and MacLagan’s version. One of my informants was Rammratan, an old Brahmin in Sundli village.56 In his narration, Huna Bhat goes to Amarnath Cave in Kashmir. By mentioning Amarnath Cave, Rammratan links the katha with one of the holiest shrines in Hinduism, a popular site of pilgrimage. There, Huna Bhat summons “Mahasu or Maha-Shiva.” He sees a lingam made of ice from which the face of Shiva emerges. Shiva has very long hair and is wearing a lion’s skin. He holds a trishul (weapon) in one hand and a damaru (small drum) in the other. In this version the division between Shiva and Mahasu (as a manifestation of Shiva) is very slight, if it exists at all. For Rammratan, Mahasu is the Pahari name for the Sanskritic Shiva. An interesting detail that heightens the importance of Shaktism in Rammratan’s telling of the katha is that Huna Bhat obtains from Shiva the murti (image) of a goddess, Deolari, in a metal pot. Once he calls the Mahasu brothers’ names, they appear from her energy (shakti). Rammratan summed this up, “So in brief you can say that Shiva divided himself into four pieces.” After being created, the Mahasu brothers f ight with the demons, but every cut they make in the demons’ bodies makes blood 54 Bhatt, 2010: 134. 55 Rose, Ibbetson, and MacLagan (1919: 404–419). 56 The other informant was a Rajput from Pronti village. His narration was shorter but similar to the one I heard in Sundli.

66 

The Biogr aphy of a God

spill out, creating another demon. They seek their mother’s help, and she brings them a deity, Lankra (Lāṅkṛā), who can suck the blood from the wounds and thereby ensure Mahasu’s victory. While telling this story, Rammratan repeated the fact that a mother is like a god in Indian culture. He finished the story with an explanation of the power of Lankra: “He was blessed with this [power] because he had done tapasya (deep meditation) of Vishnu.” In summary, Rammratan’s version of the katha incorporates Shiva, Vishnu, and shakti—three main divine forces of the Brahminic-Puranic tradition. In another version of the katha that was told to me by Amit, a medium of Chhavni (one of Mahasu’s birs), the Mahasu brothers faced the same problem with the spilled blood of demons creating more demons. In this version, Mahasu is helped by Hatkoti mata—also known as Hateshvari—a well-known and powerful devi who has a temple in the Jubbal region. Hatkoti mata sent her bir, Lankra, to help the Mahasu brothers. As in Rammratan’s version of the katha, devis play a crucial role in defeating the demons. Amit also mentions Vishnu in his narration, but he links him to the origin of the demon Kirmir. According to Hindu mythology, there was a warrior who had one thousand arms who was known as Sahastra Bahu.57 Parashurama, the sixth avatar of Vishnu, cut off his arms and killed him. In the local version of the katha told by Amit, after Vishnu cut off all but two of his arms Sahastra Bahu left Badrinath and went to the area of Maindrath. There he was known as Kirmir Danu, the well-known demon of the katha. The connection of the local katha to pan-Hindu mythology is also evident in this version. I heard the most Shaivite versions of the katha in the Jubbal region. Are these related to the Shaivite version mentioned by Rose, Ibbetson and MacLagan—a version that most likely originated in the Jubbal region? Most probably. The current versions found in the Jubbal region contain even more Sanskritic elements than the Shaivite version of the British era. This may well be evidence that the Jubbal region is more heavily influenced by pan-Indian traditions, and perhaps this trend has a long history. During my fieldwork, I noted that villagers in the Jubbal region frequently linked their local stories to figures and themes from Brahminic-Puranic traditions. They tended to repeat that Mahasu is a manifestation of Shiva (if not Shiva himself) and therefore the universal divine power. In Uttarakhand, on the other hand, people placed more emphasis on the local features of Mahasu when narrating the myths, highlighting his role in protecting them from evil forces such as demons (rakshasa) and spirits (bhut). While they also explained that 57 Sahásra means “a thousand” in Sanskrit. It is often misspelled as Sahastra.

67

A Stormy Biogr aphy

Mahasu is a local manifestation of Shiva, they did not voluntarily discuss the philosophical foundation of Advita-Vedanta, as some villagers in the Jubbal region did. *** According to the katha, the Mahasu brothers came from Kashmir to save the locals from demons. However, it seems that they had spatial ambitions that were inconsistent with the wishes of some of the human inhabitants and other deities. Ironically, some of them accused Mahasu of having demonic traits. That is the subject of the next section.

The Gods They Are a-Changin’ The local population currently regards the Mahasu brothers as good and beneficial deities. Although there are differences in their individual characteristics, everyone agrees that all four are fair in judgment. If Mahasu harms someone, he does not do so out of malicious or demonic motives, but rather because the individual has committed evil—or, some say, even if that person only had evil thoughts that were not acted upon. Accordingly, good deeds toward men and gods and heartfelt prayer to Mahasu can be beneficial because Mahasu will be pleased and give blessings. But was this always the general perception of Mahasu’s personality? A study of texts written about Mahasu by scholars and British administrators at the end of the nineteenth century and beginning of the twentieth, as well as (mainly Indian) scholarly texts from the mid-twentieth century, reveals a conceptual change in Mahasu’s characteristics. In these texts, Mahasu is described as a nuisance to the locals, including descriptions like a great nuisance, annoyance, eccentric, terrible, crafty, aggressive, and pernicious. One of the early texts that concerns Mahasu is G.R.C. Williams’s Memoir of Dehra Doon, which describes how the deity was perceived in the first half of the nineteenth century.58 As mentioned above, Williams refers to just one Mahasu, probably Chalda based on his typical movement between the two areas, where he stays for twelve years each, that make up Mahasu’s territory. Williams describes how over the course of his (Chalda’s) itinerant journeys Mahasu arrived at various villages with a large and demanding entourage, “much to the annoyance of the inhabitants, because with him 58 Williams, 1874: 171–175.

68 

The Biogr aphy of a God

came a crowd of attendants, sixty or seventy men, besides dancing girls and others.” Williams continues: The deity always stood on ceremony, for his visits had to be preceded by a formal invitation through his Vizier, but such was the dread he inspired that he never remained long without one, although ruinous expenses attended his progress. Whenever the god expressed a wish to go to any particular place, some mishap was sure to occur there, which might be made a pretext for calling a meeting of the neighboring Zemindars, who submissively resolved to send the Devta an invitation. […] the people attached to the Devta’s temple never stayed for less than six months, or as long as they could find entertainment at the expense of their hosts.59

The locals, notes Williams, attributed their troubles to (Chalda’s) Mahasu’s dissatisfaction with them, and they attempted to appease him whenever he arrived in their region. To overcome his threatening, extortionist nature and protect the local populace, a British military man named Major Young forbade (Chalda) Mahasu and his entourage from entering the JaunsarBawar region, the southern part of Mahasu’s kingdom. This directive, writes Williams, did not last very long. Williams describes the locals’ fear of Mahasu’s reach even in areas where belief in him had become dominant, such as in the Bawar region. For example: The superstition of these mountaineers is as gross as their f ilth and immorality. The Mahasoo Devta, a deity whose eccentricities will again demand attention, exercises a most pernicious influence over their minds, and he is only one in many spirits, demons, and devils, constituting their religious scarecrow. If a man falls out with another, all he has to do is to take a stone out of the wall of his enemy’s house or a clod of earth out of his field, and dedicate it to Mahasoo. Henceforth no one dare live in the house or till the field. Both are avoided as though haunted. This is a very convenient method of settling any dispute about property likely to go against one, and many a deserted house, or fallow f ield, in Bawur particularly, shows how frequently the plan has been resorted to.60 59 Williams, 1874: 172. 60 Williams, 1874: 61–62.

A Stormy Biogr aphy

69

While Williams’s description focuses on the southern area of Mahasu’s territory, H.W. Emerson writes about Mahasu’s history in the northern Shimla Hill States. Unlike Williams, who writes only about one Mahasu—apparently Chalda—Emerson mentions all four Mahasu brothers. This may be due to the century-long gap between the two texts: Emerson wrote his account in the early twentieth century. Emerson points out that Botha’s seat is in Hanol and Bashik and Pabasi’s areas of movement are defined and limited. Chalda, on the other hand, moves freely across large areas, and “his worship now extends over a wide expanse of country. It is he who is venerated in the Simla States, where his devotees are growing more numerous each year.”61 Emerson’s descriptions also indicate Chalda’s troublesome character: He chooses the richest and most pleasant villages to halt in, which have to bear the burden of his exactions. But the neighboring villages do not escape scot free. Every family of his subjects in the districts through which he passes has to contribute one rupee and eight annas towards his expenses, the rupee being kept by his priest and annas paid into his treasury. In addition, the peasants have to furnish instruments of music and ornaments of silver in honour of the god, and grain and other contributions in kind to feed his following. Happily for them, these visitations are followed by a long period of rest, for Chalda having finished his progress, takes his ease for the next twelve years in his temple situated not far from Hanol where his brother Bhotu lives.62

Emerson reports that while he served as a British officer in the area, Chalda spent twelve years in Shimla Hill Station, before moving to rest in Hanol for the next twelve years. Emerson assumes that the reason for Chalda’s twelveyear sojourn in Hanol without entering British Garhwal (the Jaunsar-Bawar region) was the restrictions imposed on Chalda described in Williams’s account. Emerson, like Williams, regarded the Chalda’s administration as part of what made him a threatening deity: “The rapacity of his priests is notorious. If they see a peasant wearing clothes or ornaments of more than ordinary value, they demand them in the name of the god, threatening his wrath if they are not handed over. And such is the popular estimate of his powers that few dare refuse the request; but they cut their losses by wearing little of value when Chalda is about.”63 61 Emerson, Mss.Eur.E.321, chapter 4, 11. 62 Emerson, Mss.Eur.E.321, chapter 4, 11–12. 63 Emerson, Mss.Eur.E.321, chapter 4, 14.

70 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Apart from his reference to Chalda, Emerson writes about “Mahasu” in Bushehr state (now part of Shimla district). Emerson does not specify which Mahasu, but from the identity of Mahasu in this area at present, we can assume it is Botha or just Mahasu, used as a generic name. Emerson illustrates the “intensity of the superstitious terrors inspired by Mahasu” with myths and stories that show how Mahasu is a nuisance not only to the villagers, but also to the other devtas whose territories he invaded, to the extent that the “mention of his name was anathema.”64 Mahasu’s demonic features are presented in a myth Emerson documents from residents of Rohru.65 In the myth, Mahasu comes to the area not to save the world from demons, but in pursuit of an enemy—a devta named Chasralu. Mahasu decides to hunt Chasralu and comes to Rohru even though he already has a rich and successful kingdom in Kashmir. Mahasu’s assistants surround the five gaps in the cave where Chasralu fled while Mahasu settles at Hanol. Chasralu remains trapped in the cave for hundreds of years until Mahasu decides that he must have disappeared by then and therefore guards are no longer required. Jakh of Janglik village, one of Mahasu’s assistants, suffers from his toxic affiliation with Mahasu: the people of the neighboring region of Dodra Kawar do not want him to continue to visit their region. They fear that Mahasu will intrude on their valley through Jakh, and so “it is easier to keep him out than to drive him off once he comes.”66 This myth about Mahasu and Chasralu describes the arrival of Mahasu in the area as related to his own personal, vindictiveness. He was therefore considered an undesirable devta that would be hard to get rid of once he entered a village or a region. During his service in the region, Emerson not only heard myths about Mahasu’s troublesome activities, but encountered such events himself. One of them concerned a Mahasu temple that was then in the advanced stages of construction. The temple was built in a village in an area controlled by another local deity called Shalu (Śālū). Emerson explains that this was typical of Mahasu: after the villagers had suffered, for several years, infertility among their women, herds, and crops, a local medium informed them that an object of Mahasu had penetrated the boundaries of the village, and with it, Mahasu. Eventually, due to their ongoing problems, the villagers began to build him a temple and thereby appease him.67 64 65 66 67

Emerson, Mss.Eur.E.321, chapter 4, 19. Emerson, Mss.Eur.E.321, chapter 4, 15–19. Rose, Ibbetson, and MacLagan, 1919: 307. Emerson, Mss.Eur.E.321, chapter 4, 19–21.

A Stormy Biogr aphy

71

Another story describes how locals tried to expel Mahasu after he arrived in their midst through marriage. Importing a god in Western Himalaya is often done in this way, with a bride bringing her family god (kul devta) to her new residence. In the case described by Emerson, the villagers smeared blood and spread mutton, garlic, and dead fish around the village to scare Mahasu off. In return, he cursed the village with typhus.68 In another tale reported by Emerson, during a conflict between Mahasu and a devta named Nageshwar (Nāgeśwar), the residents of a village relinquished their ancestor devta, Nageshwar, to avert the damage that had afflicted neighboring villages—including the possession of women, the rolling of a house down the mountain, the loss of cattle to disease, and infertility—which were interpreted by locals as expressions of Mahasu’s anger.69 Lastly, Emerson describes an event in which he took part. It began with a story, told to Emerson, of how Mahasu had manifested as a panther and frightened a local woman. Realizing that they needed to demonstrate their loyalty, the villagers built him a magnificent temple. To maintain the temple, the residents asked Emerson for financial assistance. He refused and, according to the locals’ interpretation of the events, Mahasu threatened Emerson by dropping his infant son on his head. In neither case (the manifestation as a panther and the accident with the infant) was any real damage done, since Mahasu only “threatened” in order to get his way.70 Reports from (mainly Indian) researchers from the mid-twentieth century continued to describe Chalda as a nuisance, although somewhat less harmful. For example, after R.N. Saksena mentions the atmosphere of terror that Mahasu cast over the locals, described in the British texts, he contends: “The same practice continues even now though the extortions that were made by his wazir and other attendants have been considerably reduced.”71 Another example appears in a study by Chandra Sen based on fieldwork in Desau in 1959.72 Sen reports a local myth of how the old Chalda temple was built in the village. In the old days, the story begins, a pujari dreamed that in five days ants would encircle one of the houses in the village and that that house should be converted into a temple for Chalda. Five days later the pujari discovered that his own house was full of ants. He had difficulty leaving his home, so he turned to sadar sayana (the head of the village) and 68 69 70 71 72

Emerson, Mss.Eur.E.321, chapter 5, 53–58. Emerson, Mss.Eur.E.321, chapter 4, 38–40. Emerson, Mss.Eur.E.321, chapter 5, 47–51. Saksena, 1962: 42. Sen, 1971.

72 

The Biogr aphy of a God

the elders of the village for help. At first they thought the pujari just wanted to take over another house in the village. But the pujari told the villagers that if they did not provide a home for Chalda, the whole village would be destroyed. It was decided that the pujari’s house would become a temple to Chalda and the pujari was given another house.73 Sen also mentions that there is no temple dedicated to the Pandavas in the Desau region because Mahasu did not approve.74 In the myths and stories I have presented in this chapter thus far, Mahasu directs threats and aggression towards both devtas and mortals. He manifests as a demonic and tamasic (dark, heavy, dull) devta.75 The myths and stories illustrate the expansion of Mahasu’s territory in a way that did not always stem from the goodwill of the villagers, but rather from imposition by Mahasu. Further, once Mahasu gained territory he was reluctant to share it with other devtas. During fieldwork I traveled between villages in the territory of Mahasu and asked the locals to tell me about his power. I wanted to hear stories of recent events as well as ones from the past, especially those that described how Mahasu came to their area after moving from Kashmir to Hanol. I found that the myths and stories documented by earlier writers have left almost no trace in the local collective memory. Today Mahasu is not considered a horrifying or vindictive devta, nor does he terrorize the population. More importantly, the people claim that they have never heard Mahasu described like this. Mahasu can be very powerful and supernatural, and (especially Chalda) manifests the Pahari style and manner, but he is not perceived to be a demonic god, nor does he behave badly. I heard the same arguments in villages in the areas where Emerson collected these myths and stories. “Devta is kind,” I was constantly informed. Unlike the work of earlier scholars and administrators, the myths and stories I collected emphasized some of Mahasu’s terrifying aspects, but men or other devtas are never his targets. Instead, he engages with demons and kings. Moreover, these stories and myths about his terrifying aspects are told to make a point (mainly about his magical powers or him ensuring the application of justice), not to describe Mahasu as a cruel devta. To illustrate this point, I recount here several stories about Mahasu’s clashes with kings 73 Sen, 1971: 30. 74 Sen, 1971: 29. 75 Samkhya (a school of Hindu philosophy) divides the manifest world into three features or qualities: sattva (light, purity, joy, peace), rajas (passion, excitement, hyperactivity), and tamas (darkness, heaviness, dullness).

A Stormy Biogr aphy

73

and kingdoms that I gathered during my fieldwork. The first is from the Mahasu katha. In oral versions of the myth, the villagers mention a goldcasting competition between (Chalda) Mahasu and Vishnu, a former human ruler of Hanol, which Mahasu won using esoteric powers. The story was told to demonstrate the magic of Chalda’s personality, not any demonic traits. Some local stories emphasize how Mahasu expanded his territory by clashing with mortal rulers after he established his kingdom in Hanol. In Chiwan I heard a tale about a king named Shimilia Parkash, who ruled the area in ancient times. When Pabasi and Chalda came to the area, the king and his wife did not accept them as devtas. As a result, a plant grew in the queen’s nose. They accepted Mahasu’s superiority and left the area. While they were departing, the queen sneezed and the plant fell out. It is still growing today in Dagoli, a nearby village. A celebration to mark this event takes place every August in Chiwan and Dagoli. A similar story was narrated to me by villagers in Bamsu. There the name of the prince who ruled the area was Kushan. When Pabasi and Chalda came to the region, the ruler attacked them with a bow and arrows, but Pabasi destroyed him. Ever since, the area (Kotigar patti, in the Bangan region) has been the kingdom of Pabasi and Chalda. While in the Bangan region (Chiwan and Bamsu), Mahasu banished the local rulers in order to expand his kingdom, in Shimla district I collected stories that emphasize how Mahasu expanded his territory and influence with the support of the local rulers. In one of the stories from Jubbal village, the target was the British Empire. The villagers in Jubbal call Mahasu’s temple Chhavni veer mandir (Chhavni’s temple), because of a small shrine in the courtyard of the temple, dedicated to Chhavni, one of Mahasu’s birs. The villagers say that the British had planned to set up a camp (chhavani, in Hindi, chāvnī as pronounced in the local Pahari) in the village. The locals opposed this plan, so they summoned Chhavni to banish them, which he did. One villager, a medium of Chhavni, told me an expanded version of the story: when Karam Chand was the rana (king) of Jubbal, the British wanted to take charge of his state and his properties. At that time the rana had been admitted to hospital in Shimla, so he sent three men with a letter to Hanol to seek the help of Botha Mahasu. Mahasu gave them a stone and told them to tie it to a tree from which the army camp was visible. As soon as the stone was attached, the devta began harassing the British. When the soldiers woke up in the morning, some found themselves outside the camp, some were under the bed, while others were inside the bathroom. When the British soldiers complained to their superiors, a high-ranking British officer came to review the situation. The devta appeared before

74 

The Biogr aphy of a God

him and the officer shot at him but was unable to harm him. The officer’s stomach then began to swell, growing larger and larger until it eventually burst. Consequently, the British left the camp, but the matter did not end there because the rana had lost the document proving his ownership of the Jubbal area. A medium of Chhavni became possessed in front of the rana, and through the medium, Chhavni promised to help the rana find the ownership documents the next day, and so he did. Thus not only did Chhavni help Mahasu banish the British, but he also helped Jubbal state gain independence. Another example of Mahasu expanding his territory at the will of a local ruler comes from Gijari. The location of this village is unique because it is isolated from the rest of Mahasu’s territory, which extends up to the border between the Jubbal and Kotkhai regions. Gijari is situated beyond Kotkhai, in the Theog region, where the god Chikhareshwar (Cikhaṛeśvar) rules.76 The people of Gijari claim that Mahasu came to the area because the rana of Theog wished it. The rana’s mother had a skin disease, the story goes, and the rana asked for Mahasu’s aid. The rana welcomed Mahasu by providing him with water, sending his men to bring water in buckets from the Giri River. After Mahasu cured his mother, the king gifted Mahasu 1600 bighas of land. Apart from aggression towards mortal kings and rulers, Mahasu does not generally display any hostility in current myths and stories. Moreover, in some areas (such as in Gijari and Jubbal) the stories say that he actually cooperated with the local rulers. His current relationship with other devtas is even more significant: unlike descriptions collected during the British era, in recently collected myths and stories he demonstrates neither aggression towards nor a willingness to fight with other devtas. Today, it is only in stories told by the devotees of other devtas that Mahasu is characterized as a devta who acts badly. In Kotkhai, a region where Mahasu has no influence, I heard such a story from followers of Baindra devta. The story was narrated in Kyari village by a retired teacher. Once, Baindra went on a pilgrimage to Kedarnath. During the return trip, Baindra and his entourage stopped at Hanol for the night. Mahasu’s birs were mischievous and planned to harm the people of Baindra by chopping down the tree that sheltered them while they slept under it. Baindra used his magical powers to prevent this disaster. Since this episode, Baindra does not allow his followers to eat food blessed by Mahasu (prasad) or to celebrate his festivals. This myth is similar to Emerson’s stories and emphasizes Mahasu’s tamasic, malicious, and sometimes downright cruel nature. Even so, in 76 For a short review on Chikhareshwar, see Ramesh (2007) and Mahajan (2011).

A Stormy Biogr aphy

75

this story it is Mahasu’s birs and not Mahasu himself who acts harmfully. Moreover, the people in Kyari spoke about Mahasu in a calm manner, and did not seem afraid of him.77 Mahasu devotees who live near Baindra’s area claim that this is a onesided dispute. Mahasu, they say, has granted full independence to worship all devtas, including Baindra. As a local villager from Pronti told me, Mahasu “says that you can worship everybody, eat everything that other gods and people offer, and have peace with everyone.” He further explained that Mahasu “is a broad-minded” devta. He concluded, “Baindra restricts his people to eat here. But we are not stiff; we go there and worship him. If we pass through his path, then we’ll worship him.” Another example of the present perception of Mahasu’s character and his relationship with other devtas can be found in an interesting story about how Chalda stole Banar’s wife for no reason. Banar, a devta who has temples near and in Mahasu’s territory, discovers that his wife is missing—and during a festival (Jagra) for Chalda he sees her image (murti) placed next to Chalda’s. Since then, Banar does not enter Chalda’s territory and Chalda does not enter Banar’s eleven villages. Although this story highlights Chalda’s allegedly bad behavior and indicates the more vindictive aspects of his expansion process, it acquired a completely different tone during the villagers’ narration. They smiled as they told the story, pointing to Chalda’s mischievous (shararati) behavior to illustrate that he is a naughty devta. This was highlighted when I visited Chalda in Koti-Kanasar and had the chance to see his murti (idol), with the murtis of his two wives placed nearby. The priests smiled as they pointed to the murti who used to be Banar’s wife. Moreover, there continues to be good relations between Banar’s and Mahasu’s followers, with the former directing no hostility towards Chalda. Some people worship both devtas (for example, in Sirthi there are temples to both Banar and Botha). The villagers also claim that there is no current dispute between the devtas themselves, and some villagers, especially from Banar’s side, claim that the stealing of Banar’s wife did not really happen. The final example, from Khashdhar, was related to me by a local pujari. When the brothers first came to Hanol, so the story goes, the people in Khashdhar were worshipping Nag (snake) devta. One day a policeman 77 I heard a similar story about facing hostility in Hanol after returning from a pilgrimage in Badrinath and Kedarnath from the followers of Nandrari, another deity in the Kotkhai region. As with the case of the followers of Baindra, the followers of Nandrari talk about Mahasu without any hostility. For another tale from the followers of other devtas that portrays Mahasu as aggressive and vindictive, see Sax, 2000.

76 

The Biogr aphy of a God

outside Khashdhar took a local villager into custody. The prisoner claimed that the food he was given was so bad that even his dog would refuse to eat it. The policeman who arrested the villager ordered the prisoner’s dog to be brought to the prison and said: “If your dog will eat this food, then we will kill you, and if he doesn’t eat it, then we will release you.” The villager prayed to Chalda and the dog defecated on the food and didn’t eat it. After the villager was released, he went to Hanol and brought an image (murti) of Chalda to Khashdhar and began to worship him. Because people thought he had brought back some kind of ghost, he worshipped Chalda in secret. Then Chalda started behaving mischievously (shararati) and people wondered why certain things were happening. The villager said that these are the actions of Chalda, after which the villagers began to worship him, and he was accepted as a god to which Nag devta was secondary. When the people started worshipping Chalda, the story goes, good times came to the village. This myth contained no horrific elements related to Chalda’s behavior; instead, Chalda acts mischievously and naughtily until the villagers accept him as their primary devta. Moreover, he does not fight or banish the local devta, and the villagers ultimately worshipped both devtas. As these stories demonstrate, today Mahasu is not perceived as provocative in his relations with other devtas, and in some cases previous conflicts have been forgotten. For example, in Sheel, a village in an area where Emerson describes a dispute between Mahasu and a local devta named Shalu, the villagers do not now recall any dispute. Nor has the dispute with Nageshwar described in Emerson’s manuscript left any trace. A noteworthy aspect of some of the above stories is how Mahasu expanded into his current territory. Instead of claiming that Mahasu forced the villagers to worship him through his evil behavior, in these stories Mahasu expands his territory in accordance with the will of the villagers. Such a story was reported to me in Mandhol. Approximately 200 years ago, the state of Nahan in Sirmaur captured four elders from four villages: Mandhol, Jharag, Sheel, and Karasa. The elders were imprisoned and prayed to Botha for help. Mahasu heard their prayers and the doors of the prison were opened. The elders then went to the temple of Mahasu at Hanol, took some signs (nishan) of the devta, brought them to their villages, and built temples to him. Another example unfolds in a story I heard in two villages, Sirthi and Kohlara. In Kohlara there was a couple in their sixties who could not have children. They received a blessing from Mahasu in Hanol and within one year the woman gave birth to a child. They returned to Hanol to thank

A Stormy Biogr aphy

77

Mahasu and returned to their village with his nishan. To guarantee that the villagers would worship him, Botha Mahasu demanded that one man from each village (Kohlara and Sirthi) would pledge to take care of the devta. And so, to this day, the temple has two bhandaris, who are the descendants of the two men who made the pledge to Mahasu. In this story, as in the previous one, Mahasu expands his territory after the villagers pray to him for help; the villagers bring his nishan to their village of their own free will and not as a consequence of intimidation. Another way in which Mahasu’s territory has expanded is accidental. In these kinds of myths, the locals, without noticing, bring some of Mahasu’s possessions to their village, which obligates them to worship Mahasu from that time on. These local myths contain Pahari elements, but usually without the horrifying aspects described by earlier writers like Emerson. One such story, concerning Gijari, was told to me by villagers in the Jubbal region. I have already presented the Gijari narrative about how Mahasu came to their village, but other villagers in the Jubbal region have a different story. They say that in an earlier time, some Gijari villagers went to Hanol and cooked there. When they packed their baggage, they accidentally put a utensil belonging to Mahasu in their bag, and only discovered it once they returned home. After consulting with Mahasu they realized that because they had taken one of his possessions, they would have to worship him forever. Another example of this method of expansion is a story that I heard in Jubbal that involves a Muslim raja (king) in Delhi and pigs. One version of this story was told by a young brahmin as a way of glorifying Mahasu as a devta that is admired even as far away as Delhi. According to the story, the Muslim raja had an object in his possession that belonged to Mahasu without being aware of it.78 The Muslim raja suffered great pains in his stomach, accompanied by the sounds of pigs. With a medium’s help he realized he must go to Hanol and acknowledge Mahasu’s power to rid himself of the pigs infesting his belly. Ever since, there has been a temple in honor of Mahasu in Delhi.79 In these stories Mahasu’s belongings are mistakenly obtained by people who are consequently required to worship him. It is clear from these stories that the will of the individual is irrelevant, but at the same 78 From a different informant it is known that the object was thrown in the Tons River and flowed down to the Yamuna where it was pulled out by a fisherman. 79 According to another version, the king was Akbar and he brought five tons of dhoop (incense) along with him to Hanol. Even today, the story persists that whenever Jagra (annual festival) takes place, people from the family of Akbar will send five tons of dhoop. Despite searching, I have been unable to find a Mahasu temple in Delhi.

78 

The Biogr aphy of a God

time the stories do not indicate that Mahasu has blackmailed or threatened his new worshippers in any way. *** Texts previously written about Mahasu describe him as a deity with demonic traits. Such mixing of the divine and the demonic is not uncommon in the Western Himalayas. As Mark Elmore states, “[m]any of the deities of the Western Himalayas are believed to have originally been demons but were domesticated and placated by the offerings of villagers.”80 This perception seems to be at odds with the description of Mahasu, since, according to the katha, Mahasu came from Kashmir to save the people from demons. And indeed, Peter Sutherland has identified two sources of divinity in the Rohru region. In the first, which applies to devtas like Nag or Narayan, the deities’ curse becomes a blessing and thus a political community of believers is formed. This resembles the common narrative mentioned by Mark Elmore. The second, which applies to Mahasu, regards deities as spiritual entities that migrated from outside and defeated local demons, presenting a political transition from the rule of demons to the rule of gods.81 It seems that in the British era a gap formed between Mahasu’s divine character in the katha and his demonic behavior in other myths documented by the British writers. This gap can be explained in socio-geographical terms. The katha represents the political center of the Bawar region, the heartland of Mahasu’s cult. However, the other stories were collected in areas where Mahasu had tried to expand; during this expansion, he clashed with both humans and devtas. Over time, Mahasu has settled down in these areas, and the wild old days have been erased from collective memory. It is most probably for this reason that I did not come across the perception of Mahasu as a demonic deity during my fieldwork. Interestingly, the only enemies that have been preserved in the stories I collected are kings and rulers. Perhaps this indicates the ongoing legitimacy of deities having a political role, and clashing with political powers. Even today, devtas (including Mahasu) can play an active role in socio-political issues. After all, they are political figures. In some instances, devtas even act as political activists in disputes with government officials and politicians.82

80 Elmore, 2016: 151. 81 Sutherland, 2006: 86–87. 82 Berti, 2011; Elmore, 2016, 207–211; Ohri, 2019: 48–49; Mahajan, 2011.

A Stormy Biogr aphy

79

The changing concept of divinity, from a menacing and disturbing devta to one with a more relaxed personality, does not end there. The Mahasu brothers of the twenty-first century show an increased differentiation in their characters and identities. This is the subject of the next chapter.

Bibliography Atkinson, Edwin T. 1884. The Himalayan Districts of the North-Western Provinces of India. Volume 2. Allahabad: North-western Provinces and Oudh Government Press. Berti, Daniela. 2011. “Political Patronage and Ritual Competitions at Dussehra Festival in Northern India.” In Ritual, Heritage and Identity: The Politics of Culture and Performance in a Globalised World, edited by Christiane Brosius and Karin M. Polit, 126–148. New Delhi: Routledge. Bhatt, G.S. 2010. Cult, Religion and Society: Polyandrous People of Western Himalaya. India: Rawat Publications. Elmore, Mark. 2005. “Stately (Dis)placement: Narrative, Place, and Postcoloniality.” Epoché: The University of California Journal for the Study of Religion 25 (2): 139–165. Elmore, Mark. 2016. Becoming Religious in a Secular Age. Oakland: University of California Press. Emerson William Herbert. n.d. Mss.Eur.E.321, unpublished anthropological study. London: British Library, Oriental and India Office Collections (OIOC). Chapters 4–5. Fraser, James. 1820. Journal of a Tour through a Part of the Snowy Range of the Himālā Mountains, and to the Sources of the Rivers Jumna and Ganges. London: Rodwell and Martin. Hamilton, Walter. 1820. A Geographical, Statistical, and Historical Description of Hindostan and the Adjacent Countries. London: John Murray. Handa, Om Chanda. 2004. Naga Cults and Traditions in the Western Himalaya. New Delhi: Indus Publishing. Handa, Om Chanda, and Madhu Jain. 2009. Art and Architecture of Uttarakhand. New Delhi: Pentagon Press. Mahajan, Chakraverti. 2011. “Sacred Complex and Development: An Ethnographic Study of a Devta Institution in Himachal Pradesh.” Journal of Indian Anthropological Society 45 (2): 47–59. Majumdar, Krishnakali. 1996. “Healing through the spirits: Embodiment, experience and narratives of spirit possession among the Jaunsaris of Uttrakhand, India.” PhD dissertation, Michigan State University.

80 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Moran, Arik. 2019. “God, King, and Subject: On the Development of Composite Political Cultures in the Western Himalaya, circa 1800–1900.” The Journal of Asian Studies 78 (3): 577–600. Ohri, Lokesh, 2019. Till Kingdom Come: Medieval Hinduism in the Modern Himalaya. Ranikhet: Permanent Black. Ramesh, Ruchi. 2007. “Devta Institution of Himachal: A Sociological Study.” Summerhill 13 (2): 21–26. Rose, H.A., Sir Denzil Ibbetson, and Sir Edward MacLagan. 1919. A Glossary of the Tribes and Castes of the Punjab and Northwest Frontier Province. Volume 1. Lahore: Superintendent, Government Printing, Punjab. Saksena, R.N. 1962 (1954). Social Economy of a Polyandrous People. Bombay: Asia Publishing House. Sax, William. 2000. “In Karna’s Realm: An Ontology of Action.” Journal of Indian Philosophy 28 (3): 295–324. Sen, Chandra. 1971. Ritual Complex and Social Structure in Jaunsar Bawar. Delhi: Office of the Registrar General. Singh, Chetan. 2013. “Constructing the State in the Western Himalaya.” Journal of Punjab Studies 20 (1–2): 3–21. Sutherland, Peter. 2006. “T(r)opologies of Rule (Raj): Ritual Sovereignty and Theistic Subjection.” European Bulletin of Himalayan Research 29–30: 82–119. Utter, Hans. 2010. Trance, Ritual and Rhythm: The Cult of Mahasu Deota in the Western Himalayas. Delhi: B.R. Rhythms. Walton, H.G. 1989 (1910). Gazetteer of British Garhwal: A Gazetteer. Dehradun: Natraj. Williams, G.R.C. 1874. Historical and Statistical Memoir of Dehra Doon. Roorkee: Thomason Civil Engineering College Press. Zoller, Claus Peter. 2001. “On the Relationship between Folk and Classical Traditions in South Asia.” European Bulletin of Himalayan Research 20–21: 77–104. Zoller, Claus Peter. 2007. “Is Bangani a V2 Language?” European Bulletin of Himalayan Research 31: 83–141.

3

The Four Brothers Abstract In this chapter I describe four core components of the belief in Mahasu as it is expressed today: each Mahasu brother has his own distinct personality and identity; Mahasu is perceived as a king; Mahasu is perceived to be Shiva; and the belief in Mahasu contains elements of both concrete and abstract notions of divinity. Keywords: identity of gods, royal kings, Shaivism, concrete notion of divinity

Personalities and Identities The myths and stories documented by the British mostly deal with a wandering deity terrorizing the local population, indicating that Chalda was the most dominant of the four brothers. This is why, when I first came to Mahasu’s territory with my two companions, we initially searched for Chalda. In many respects, we considered Chalda to be a synonym for Mahasu. On the second day of our stay in Jubbal, my two companions and I were sitting in Gupta’s dhaba (restaurant) drinking chai. There is no manual for ethnographers, so we were wondering what to do now that we had reached the field of research. Suddenly I had an idea, probably an obvious one, to visit the local Mahasu temple. I thought that perhaps someone would be there and maybe we would even see something interesting. And indeed, in the courtyard of the temple we happened to see two villagers who were talking with Mahasu through a medium (mali). After their conversation ended, we asked to speak briefly with the mali himself. We wanted to know how he became a mali. Our assumption was that he was a mali of Chalda. It was only in our second meeting with him, a few days later, that we learned he was a mali of Botha, and that the temple in Jubbal is to Botha, not Chalda. Later, we were surprised to discover that most of the temples in the Jubbal region are to Botha.

Sharabi, A., The Biography of a God: Mahasu in the Himalayas. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press 2023 doi: 10.5117/9789463726658_ch03

82 

The Biogr aphy of a God

The reason for Botha’s popularity is his method of expansion. While the other brothers move with a palanquin (palki) and in principle are found in only one place at any given moment, Botha moves through space through signs (nishan). Thus, although Botha’s idol (murti) is in the central temple in Hanol, his signs are found in many dozens of temples. According to the katha (the main myth), Botha injured his knee as he emerged from the ground in Maindrath, so he now has a limp. This is why he remains in Hanol and does not travel between villages like his brothers. The physical dimensions of Botha’s identity—his injured knee and the fact that he does not depart from his seat in Hanol—are reflected in his personality. Botha is considered to be patient, careful, calm, sound, stable, and always willing to forgive and give people another chance (even those who have committed a sin). In the words of a young informant from Dhar village: “Botha is always sitting; he is very calm and patient. His power will come late. If you ask something from him, it can take a long time until it will happen. He thinks for a long time on each problem, and then only he will give an answer.” Botha’s patience and conscientiousness are demonstrated in his methods of providing aid. One procedure is to give holy rice (moti) to those who come to him seeking help and solutions. He asks them to examine their situation over a period of time. He does not provide magical cures or simple and clear solutions. Instead, he examines the issue and usually offers a solution that requires time and patience. Even his punishments, so the locals say, are not meted out immediately. If someone commits a sin, it may haunt his descendants. Therefore, problems that occur now can be the result of an event that happened decades ago. Prudence, equanimity, and patience are the qualities that make Botha the favorite and probably foremost brother. Botha’s prominent status is reflected not only in the many temples built in his honor, but also symbolically in the fact that he is the brother who sits in Hanol. Botha is considered by many to be the supreme judge, a devta who is capable of settling each and every one of his three brothers’ issues with the locals. I constantly observed that for small problems the villagers would appeal to the mediums in their local village, but for bigger problems they went to Hanol. Chalda’s characteristics are different from Botha’s. As mentioned above, Chalda has changed from being somewhat demonic to being a more serene devta. My fieldwork revealed that Chalda, while remaining the “wildest” brother, has undergone a process of ref inement, and is now generally described as being beneficial by nature. He does not harm people out of cruelty.

The Four Brothers

83

Image 7  Botha in movement, manifested through his nishan (sign)

Photo by Asaf Sharabi

A theme that repeatedly came up during my discussions with villagers was that Chalda is unpredictable. This mainly manifests in his spatial movements: today he is here, tomorrow he is there. As I was told by a young man from Koti, “He may decide, in one minute, to move from one village to another village.” Another description of his unpredictable movements was heard in Sundli village from a young Brahmin: “Chalda sometimes travels at night; he decides suddenly that he wants to go somewhere. Even if it is somewhere that his brothers don’t go to or stay at. He would never refuse an invitation from a low-caste person; he goes where he is needed.” This respondent notes t​​ hat the connection between Chalda’s spatial movements and the help he extends to believers is regardless of their economic situation or their caste. Another example of this connection was provided by a high-status caste local from Jubbal: “Chalda helps poor people, because he moves everywhere and meets all kinds of people. All devta help the poor, but he is accessible, he can do whatever he wants. Sometimes he punishes, for he has no patience with someone who is trying to break the rules, but he can help immediately.” Most of the locals emphasized that, although the brothers are all equally powerful, Chalda has special powers (vishes shakti), which some villagers described as tantric. For example, one devotee from Dhar village told me that “among the four brothers, Chalda Mahasu is sarva vidya sampanna

84 

The Biogr aphy of a God

(possessing all knowledge).” Almost everyone agreed that Chalda has many magical powers, which he uses wisely. Parveen, one of the famous malis in the pashi region, described Chalda’s special abilities: He can either make you prosper or destroy you. The people will prosper if they worship him by heart, otherwise they will be destroyed if they worship him for their selfishness. He has these two specialties (to make you prosper or destroy you). Chalda is responsible for weather and also responsible for everything. If a person doesn’t have a child for twenty years and he goes to Chalda, he will get a child. If a person has only daughters and he goes to Chalda, he will get a son. This happens with all four Mahasu, but Chalda is the most powerful.

One expression of Chalda’s power is his chhatar, a large white umbrella with which he travels from place to place. Under this umbrella are 64 lakh (hundred thousand) gods and goddesses. It is said that any devi or devta who enters beneath his chhatar becomes powerful and safe. Chalda’s unpredictable decisions and unexpected use of his magical powers tend to foster positive reactions among his devotees. Thus, whenever Chalda’s power was discussed, people tended to smile and laugh. Chalda was often described as a mischievous magic maker and not a threat. While Botha weighs his actions and does not perform magic immediately, Chalda is different, as I was told in Jubbal by someone in a roadside restaurant: “When he arrives, miracles happen. For example, the crop improves, and people get good jobs.” Finally, Chalda’s “wild” character is manifested through the aggressiveness of his mediums. When Chalda converses with people he often shouts, makes harsh statements, and sometimes reveals little patience for those who have come to speak with him. For example, in a case I recorded in Janog in 2017, a young couple and their parents came to Chalda because the couple was suffering from unfortunate events including a car accident and the inability of the wife to get pregnant. Chalda told the family that the young woman had committed a sin and that that was the root of their problems. This is not an unusual diagnosis by a devta. However, in this case the young woman did not know what the sin was and Chalda refused to reveal it. The woman and her family kept begging Chalda to reveal her sin, and the conversation started to become tense. At some point Chalda provided a clue: Chalda: Why don’t you remember? What is the mistake committed by you? Mother of the young woman: Speak up, my child. Chalda: You committed the mistake, and then you got married.

The Four Brothers

85

Father of the young woman: Maharaj, the children don’t remember it, if you could speak up by yourself. Chalda: (to the father of the young woman) I am not talking to you. Understood? Don’t doubt my intention, and I know about your intention very well.

At that point Chalda blamed the young man for consulting other devtas and asked him to remove any amulet or talisman he had obtained from them. Although the conversation was tense, it ended peacefully, as always. Chalda offered rice to the young man and told him: “I am with you. Do not get afraid of anything. If it troubles you again, I will deal with it.” While Chalda has significant Pahari characteristics such as movement in space and the acceptance of animal sacrifices (bali), Pabasi’s identity is very much the opposite. Among the Mahasu brothers, Pabasi was the first to refuse to accept animal sacrifices, and he did so many years before the current trend in which more and more devtas are abandoning this practice. Where Chalda is perceived as energetic and lively, Pabasi is described as calm and composed. Unlike his brother Botha, who sends his nishans everywhere and now has many temples, it seems that Pabasi has no ambition to expand his territory. Locals explain that he limits himself because of his steady and relaxed character. He has no interest in vast expansion. Of the four Mahasu brothers, Pabasi is the most closely identified with Shiva. One indication of this is his affection for marijuana. His malis, when possessed, sometimes ask for marijuana leaves (bhang) which they eat, drink, or smoke. One local in Bholar explained that Pabasi indulges: “When our devta feels troubled or sometimes he just wants to enjoy. Because it is a food of our god! Food of Shiva!” In the Jubbal area I heard villagers joke that Pabasi is a “charsi” (marijuana user, stoner). In a village where Pabasi is the kul devta (family god), they described him more seriously: “He doesn’t want anything. He is like free, you know, He doesn’t want or care about anybody. He is charsi.” However, when I talked to villagers in Bangan region, Pabasi’s main territory, they were not amused by the word “charsi.” As one of them told me: “That’s a big disrespect to the lord. He’s a peace-keeping devta, and yes he’s associated with marijuana, but that doesn’t mean he’s addicted or something. It’s in a godly sense, which is beyond humans’ understanding.” Pabasi makes a journey once a year in the month of Jeth (May–June) to a sacred grove called Devban.1 At least according to traditional Bangani 1 There are many sacred forests in many regions in India. For more details on sacred groves, see Rani and Agnimitra, 2021; Vasan and Kumar, 2006.

86 

The Biogr aphy of a God

view, Pabasi does not undertake a “pilgrimage” to Devban because the temple there is his own.2 However, nowadays Pabasi call it tirth (pilgrimage). One traditional function of Pabasi’s stay in Devban is the exorcism of fairies (mamtri) from, usually, women who got possessed by them.3 The pilgrimage to Devban and the fact that he stays there for a few days adds to the perception of Pabasi as a pure devta. The belief among some locals is that those deities who come to Devban should abandon sacrifices. This is at least one reason why Chalda does not visit there. Because of his characteristics (not accepting animal sacrifices, making an annual pilgrimage, resembling Shiva, etc.), some describe Pabasi as a sattvic (light, purity, joy, peace) devta, and some even regard him as a sanyasi (saint). Expressions of this can be found in Gijari. This village is located at a distance from Mahasu territory, near a town called Theog. Perhaps because of this distance, all four Mahasu brothers are permanent residents in the temple of the village. The locals in Gijari say that Pabasi observes upvas (fasting) except for one meal a day. When the villagers offer the daily puja to the Mahasu brothers, Pabasi accepts rice in copper plates, after which the other three Mahasu brothers eat. After this meal, he starts fasting again. Bashik, the fourth Mahasu brother, resembles Pabasi in that his territory is limited. Bashik is considered to be the oldest of the four Mahasu brothers, according to the officials in Hanol and most of Mahasu’s followers. The only time I heard a different version was in pashi (the territory of ​​Pabasi), and especially in the area of J​​ ubbal. Although there, too, Bashik was often referred to as the oldest brother, some people said Botha or Pabasi was the oldest. Bashik’s position as the oldest brother is interesting, and even strange, because there is a symmetry to the territorial space of the brothers: Bashik dominates the southern side of Mahasu’s territory (the shathi area), while Pabasi takes the northern side (pashi area). Chalda and Botha each have many temples in both the shathi and the pashi areas. Chalda moves between shathi and pashi and Botha sits in the middle, in the geographic and religious center of Hanol. Geopolitically, then, Bashik’s territory is analogous to the territory of Pabasi, while it seems that Chalda and especially Botha are more important devtas. Moreover, it seems that Bashik, like Pabasi, has no ambitions of spatial expansion, unlike Botha or Chalda. Although some locals are reluctant to say aloud which sibling (if any) is stronger, Chalda seems to have special (some say tantric) abilities, and Botha 2 Personal correspondence with Claus Peter Zoller. 3 On the close association of Pabasi and his guardian deity Kailath with fairies see: Bhatt, Wessler, and Zoller, 2014: especially footnote 65 and page 101.

87

The Four Brothers

holds a more central place. After all, Hanol, the permanent seat of Botha, is the religious center, and people come to Hanol when they seek help or guidance. The logical candidate for oldest brother is Botha. It is possible that because Hanol is in the shathi area, which is also Bashik’s territory, shathi’s Rajputs (and more precisely, the Bawar’s Rajputs) had an interest in making “their” devta into the eldest brother, rather than Botha, who has temples throughout Mahasu’s territory. It is worth mentioning that shathi and pashi were rival areas, so designating Bashik as the oldest brother is a means by which shathi’s Rajputs (who dominate the establishment in Hanol) can establish their superiority over pashi. 4 Being the oldest brother, Bashik is perceived as serious, polite, thoughtful, gentle, and patient. Unlike Chalda, who is seen as a fury who swiftly punishes wrongdoers, Bashik’s punishment is meted out very slowly. As one of the villagers in Bastil told me: “The punishment of Bashik is like sweet poison, he harms slowly, slowly, slowly.” Like Pabasi, he makes a pilgrimage once a year in the month of Jeth (May–June) to a sacred grove called Kemala. He stopped receiving animal sacrifices during his visit there in 2014. In 2018 he also made a pilgrimage to Kedarnath, most probably for the first time. It would seem that these actions are steps toward obtaining a more sattvic identity. *** Botha, Bashik, and Pabasi are all considered to have calm and thoughtful personas. People can even negotiate with them until they are satisfied with the deities’ decisions. Even Chalda, who is considered the “wildest” brother and is the one who preserves some Pahari elements of divinity (such as animal sacrifices), is now regarded as more of a magician ( jadukar), a surprising (achanaka) and mischievous (shararati) devta—not demonic. Since they are all considered good and kind devtas, it is interesting to note their different characters. Serious Bashik, patient Botha, shanti (calm, peaceful) Pabasi, and mischievous Chalda. The difference between their characters is one reason for Mahasu’s popularity: it allows the locals to form 4 From a socio-historical perspective, the division between shathi and pashi represents a division between two Rajput groups: the Rana Rajputs of Bastil village (shathi) and the Panwar Rajputs of Bhankwar village (pashi). While the Rana Rajputs trace their origins to Rajasthan, the Panwar Rajputs claim to have originated in the Malwa region (Bhatt, 2010: 320). The current wazir of pashi, Jaipal Singh Bangwan, moved from Bhankwar to Thadiyar because in 2000–2003 a new temple was built there for Chalda. However, after inauguration, the temple changed to worshipping Pabasi.

88 

The Biogr aphy of a God

closer connections to whichever Mahasu brother they prefer and thereby to the cult of Mahasu as a whole. Thus, even though each follower of Mahasu has their own Mahasu brother as a kul devta (family god), they can also appeal to whichever Mahasu brother they individually prefer (as well as to other devtas). This holds true for followers of other devtas in Mahasu’s territory, who can also approach whichever Mahasu brother is available in the area where they live. In the shathi area, many mediums (malis) and temples of Botha, Chalda, and Bashik can be found, while in the pashi area, Botha, Chalda, and Pabasi mediums and temples are available. Not only do the Mahasu brothers present a range of identities with different personality traits, but they also use different forms of governance to rule over their territories. In some ways, these issues are interrelated. This is the subject of the next section.

The Four Kings One noon, in April 2016, I heard the beating of drums. It was Shari Banar, moving with his entourage through the Jubbal market. He was on his way to Bhalag village (pseudonym), where the inauguration (pratishtha) of a temple for Botha Mahasu was supposed to begin the next day. Spontaneously, I joined them on the several-hours-long walk to Bhalag. The event was honored by the presence of a number of deities. Shari Banar was considered a senior among them, because the area around Jubbal town is considered his territory. The next day, the shikha puja ritual took place. During this ritual, all the kalis in the mountains are summoned and appeased with animal sacrifices (bali). However, this time the ritual did not go smoothly. Botha’s pujari (priest) and mali (medium) climbed onto the roof. Along with them went the mali of Narsingh, who is considered a bir (low-ranking deity) in the Jubbal region. After reaching the roof they realized that they had forgotten to take a symbol of Botha with them. So Botha’s mali came down, took a stick (chhari) of Botha, and climbed up to the roof again. But that was not the only mistake that happened that day. After completing the puja, the realization dawned that Shari Banar had not been invited to lead the puja, and that his permission to start the puja had not even been sought. Shari Banar is said to be the master of kalis. Therefore he usually takes part in these kinds of rituals when they take place in his territory. Shari Banar was angry. From his tent near the temple, he ordered his wazir (head of management) and pujari to tie the gachi, a belt that is tightened around his palanquin (palki) when he is on the move. This is how he keeps

The Four Brothers

89

the kalis and birs close to him so they do not hurt any humans. The order to tighten the gachi meant that Shari Banar was threatening to leave. The residents of Bhalag tried to convince him to stay. Here is part of the conversation I recorded: Public: It is our mistake, and kindly forgive us. We invite you for our happiness, and for our protection. Shari Banar: I want my justice. You have to follow my decisions. Public: Please forgive us. We invited you for the first time in our village for shikha puja. Shari Banar: Then why did you complete the puja without my consent? Public: What can we do? We are confused, whose order should we follow? Yours or aju (Botha)? Please tell us. Shari Banar: I am not angry. Your function should be successful. Public: But how can it be if you will not take our puja? Shari Banar: So you have to make justice with me. Public: The matter is between you and aju (Botha). Shari Banar: It is not between me and aju. I am not angry with him. He invited me and I also wanted to come and make the puja. Everyone makes mistakes. I am able to worship every shikha puja. All the kalis are still staying in my palki. I didn’t release them yet. Public: Please don’t release them. Please forgive us and stay calm.

The villagers of Bhalag were in a very frustrating position. They were passive participants in a ritual that apparently did not go well. Although they are followers of Botha Mahasu, whom they call aju (ancestor) as a term of respect, they did not want to upset their respected guest. At some point, Narsingh took the initiative to negotiate between the people of Bhalag and Shari Banar: Narsingh: (to the crowd) It is your mistake. Aju (Botha) has his own rules. Public: So why didn’t aju tell us about his regulation? Narsingh: And it is a mistake from both sides and I am only a third party. Public: We invited him on your call, we don’t know what is the matter. Narsingh: Only aju knows or him (Shari Banar). Nobody else knows about it. Everyone has their own rules and there are solutions for every problem.

Shari Banar was mainly angry at Botha’s pujari (priest) because he led the puja and should have requested that Shari Banar climb up with him. The pujari justified himself by saying that Botha’s mali forced him to go up and

90 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Image 8  Shari Banar is in the right tent, talking with the villagers through the mali

Photo by Asaf Sharabi

do the puja without mentioning Shari Banar. Shari Banar was also angry at Narsingh’s mediation. As a bir, Narsingh was not supposed to intervene in the dispute. The villagers of Bhalag asked Shari Banar for a fine (dand) to settle the mismanagement of the ritual. They were afraid that he would curse (dosh) not only them but also their offspring. In this hours-long episode, Botha’s voice was barely heard. The dispute was between Shari Banar and the villagers; to be exact, it was between Shari Banar and the management of Botha’s temple in Bhalag. Botha himself was rather passive throughout the event. In the end, Botha was willing to apologize for not inviting Shari Banar to lead the shikha puja. He offered a one-rupee coin to Shari Banar as a fine (dand), and that settled the matter. What is interesting in this episode are the power relations between Botha and Shari Banar. Mahasu is considered to be a very powerful deity with a large kingdom. Shari Banar, on the other hand, has a small territory. He is not even known in, for example, Jaunsar-Bawar region. So why did Botha apologize to Shari Banar, especially during the inauguration of his own temple? The answer to this question lies in the different degrees of control wielded by the Mahasu brothers over each of their territories. To explain this, I must first describe the form of governance practiced by Shari Banar. Shari Banar dominates around the town of Jubbal, in an area called Brar. He moves with his palki between five villages, staying one year in each village. He visits other villages for special occasions such as ratri puja or pratishtha. Wherever he goes, his management accompanies him. More importantly,

The Four Brothers

91

whenever he goes, there is a daily puja. The daily puja is performed only in the temple (or the location) where he is at that moment. For example, during most of 2016 Shari Banar stayed in the village of Shari, so the daily puja was only performed there; in other Shari Banar temples there was no daily puja. When Shari Banar stayed in Bhalag for a night, the daily puja was held only there. This marks his presence, his authority, as located in one place at any given moment. In addition, Shari Banar has only one active mali. Therefore, his authority is not distributed between many mediums. Finally, his whole community of several villages participates in annual festivals such as Jagra and Rampuri mela. To sum up, while Shari Banar has a small territory compared to Botha, he controls it firmly. Botha demonstrates a different pattern of governance. As the lord of Hanol, Botha is the senior brother, though not the eldest (a title reserved for Bashik). Precisely because he stays in Hanol permanently, his hold on his followers across pashi and shathi is limited. Unlike his brothers and other royal devtas, Botha does not roam: he is not a devta that travels with a palanquin (palki) throughout his territory to maintain uniformity and communal discipline. Instead, he sends nishans (signs) from Hanol to temples across the shathi and pashi areas. These temples are very active. They each have daily puja, unlike most of the temples of the other Mahasu brothers. The activeness of his temples is a testament to the distribution of Botha’s authority. Decisions concerning each temple are primarily made at the local level. Take, for example, animal sacrifice (bali), which has become an important issue in recent years. When Shari Banar decided to stop accepting bali, his decision was binding on all his followers throughout his territory. In contrast, a decision made in Hanol does not apply to all of Botha’s temples. Indeed, the question of whether to accept bali is a local issue for each Botha temple, depending on the decision of each individual village. For example, in Bhalag bali was given during the inauguration of Botha’s new temple, although this practice has been banned in Hanol. Although there is only one Botha, he speaks through many mediums over a very large territory. His power is mediated through different kinds of mediums, each of whom has a different proximity to the political center of Hanol. Most of Botha’s mediums are active as a part-time job. It is not by accident that people in Jubbal say that for important matters they go to Hanol: not only can they visit the holy site there, but they can also call upon more professional mediums. Returning to the incident in Bhalag, one side of the disagreement was a devta in his own territory, empowered by a united community of several villages, who moves with his palki from village to village and speaks through

92 

The Biogr aphy of a God

one authoritative medium. That is, Shari Banar’s authority is derived from a palanquin and a single medium, a territory, and a community of several villages. On the other side of the disagreement is Botha, a very powerful devta, but one that has no palanquin, whose authority is derived from a distant main temple (Hanol), a nishan (sign), a village-sized community, and one of many mediums, who is possessed only part-time. While Botha never leaves Hanol, his three brothers have palki and move throughout their territories. Do they use the same structure of governance as Shari Banar? Not exactly. The following story from my fieldwork illustrates the complexity of the control each of them has over their territories. Tikri (pseudonym) is a village whose inhabitants are followers of Pabasi. He is their kul devta (family god). In 2015, on one of my visits to Tikri, I met Vinod, who welcomed me and informed me that later that evening a goat would be sacrificed to celebrate the reconstruction of Pabasi’s temple. This puzzled me, because Pabasi had become vegetarian two decades earlier. Vinod explained that Pabasi would accept the sacrificial offering, not for himself, but for one of his birs. In the evening people began to gather around the temple to attend the puja and receive prasad (blessed food). As part of the puja, animal sacrifice (bali) was made. When this ritual happened, several participants quietly objected, claiming that since animal sacrifices were not offered in other Pabasi temples, it was not right for people in Tikri to “do whatever they want.” It seemed that while other villagers had come to view Pabasi as a vegetarian deity, especially in the main temple in Thadiyar, this conceptual change had not yet fully taken root in Tikri. Why did the villagers of Tikri not follow Pabasi’s rules? Why did they sacrifice a goat, even if it was only to one of his birs? The answer to this question lies in the different degrees of control wielded by Pabasi over his territories. Mahasu’s territory is divided into two areas, pashi and shathi. While pashi is officially the territory of Pabasi, in practice Pabasi controls only part of pashi, the Bangan region. This means that from his main temple in Thadiyar, Pabasi travels with his palanquin (palki) between villages in Bangan. The Pabasi of Thadiyar—the “original” (mool) Pabasi, as the locals call him—rarely goes beyond the Bangan region. Tikri is in the Jubbal region, close to Bangan. In this area, Pabasi’s worshippers have their own palanquins and conduct their religious lives somewhat independently of the followers of Pabasi in Bangan. It is therefore understandable that decisions made by Bangan’s Pabasi are not necessarily binding on all villages with Pabasi temples. Tikri is not alone: in the Rohru and Chirgaon regions there are also several Pabasi temples with palanquins. Pabasi (or should I say, the “original” Pabasi) may rule with a high hand in

The Four Brothers

93

Map 3 Mahasu’s territory, with the division of shathi and pashi. In the center are the regions of Bawar and Bangan

Map created by Asaf Sharabi based on data from OpenStreetMap

94 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Bangan, but his hold on the rest of the pashi area ranges between loose and nonexistent. The incident in Bhalag demonstrates the importance of the existence/absence of a palki, and the animal sacrifice in Tikri indicates how the presence of a local palki can mark and deepen territorial sovereignty. Bashik’s case is similar to that of Pabasi. While shathi is officially Bashik’s territory, in practice he mainly controls only a part of shathi in the Bawar region. Bashik generally stays in his main temple in the village of Maindrath, hardly ever traveling to other villages in his territory. Thus, while Pabasi still moves between villages in Bangan (at least for part of the year), Bashik has ceased his routine of roaming. Bashik has a hold in the Bawar region but has almost no control in other parts of shathi (mainly Jaunsar). The Bawar region, although symbolically and practically important in the Mahasu cult, is a third the size of the Bangan region. Therefore, in practice, Bashik has the least followers of the four brothers. Returning to the example of animal sacrifice, a decision by Botha in Hanol is not binding on the temples of Botha scattered throughout the shathi and pashi areas, while a decision by Pabasi and Bashik is only binding on the temples under their direct influence (in the Bangan and Bawar regions, respectively), not on other Pabasi and Bashik temples outside those regions. The different forms of governance wielded by Botha and Pabasi/Bashik is revealed in the following incident. After heavy rains, in August 2019, a huge flood swept through Kotigar, which is under the direct control of Pabasi. When I arrived, a few weeks later, and asked the locals about the disaster (which had resulted in the deaths of at least eighteen people), I received conflicting responses. The residents of Bangan (Pabasi’s territory) indicated that Pabasi was responsible for these events. Their explanation related to the fact that some locals were not observing the traditions associated with Pabasi. “People have new rules,” was the recurring phrase, “and they don’t abide by the old traditions.” Outside the territory of Pabasi the perception was different. For example, people in Hanol told me that the flood was not related to the gods. “It is not a dosh (curse). It is a natural calamity,” said one of the priests of Botha’s temple in Hanol. This was the prevailing perception in the Jubbal region, not just regarding this event but also natural phenomena in general, such as the decrease in snowfall compared to former years. People in Jubbal, where Botha is the popular Mahasu brother, discussed global warming with me and highlighted how it was affecting the region. In Bangan, however, the perception is that Pabasi responsible for everything, including the weather. Botha is not considered a less important devta than Pabasi, but Pabasi’s governance is deeper because his community of believers is smaller and

The Four Brothers

95

Image 9  Mahasu’s temple in Hanol

Photo by Asaf Sharabi

concentrated in a single geographical region. Pabasi is also closer to his followers because he moves between the villages in his territory, while Botha governs his villagers from a distance, from his seat in Hanol. As a result, each village perceives Botha somewhat differently. In Jubbal, a region of greater economic development and educational improvements, Botha is perceived as less influential in matters related to natural phenomena. Moreover, it seems that in the Jubbal region, where Botha continues to be referred to as raja (king) or maharaj (great king), the title is becoming more of a symbol rather than indicating that he is an actual governing ruler. For a small portion of the locals, Botha has lost even this symbolic role. For example, two villagers in Mandhol (in the Jubbal region), an eighty-four-year-old man and one of his grandsons, denied that Botha had any royal features. As the younger man said: “He is not a ruler, he is a healer.” In other words, the villagers regard him as a divine power they can approach to solve medical problems rather than a ruler who travels and exercises his authority over his territory. What of Chalda, the fourth brother? Apparently, he is the wild brother, the one people are more careful about, so it is reasonable to expect that his control over the villagers would be tighter than that of his three brothers. However, his territory is large—according to tradition, he moves between shathi and pashi, spending twelve years in each region (in theory, but not always in fact). His effect is therefore usually felt in the region where he resides at any given moment, but less in other areas. The impact of his

96 

The Biogr aphy of a God

governance is, then, momentary and quickly passes. For example, Chalda caused turmoil among Sari (pseudonym) villagers while visiting there in 2005, and was in conflict with the villagers of Tikri (pseudonym) two years later. Both villages are located in the Jubbal region. Then, at the end of 2012, he moved to Uttarakhand, during which period his influence was hardly felt in Himachal Pradesh. Chalda’s impact is not only momentary, but is also less threatening than before. In Sari and Tikri, the residents were not afraid to oppose Chalda’s opinion. They respected him but refused his requests. In Tikri the villagers rebuffed Chalda’s request to build a temple for him in their village, and in Sari half of the villagers declined to practice animal sacrifices.5 The priest (pujari) at Sari, who was one of those who refused, told me that he was not afraid of Chalda’s dosh (curse), because he knew Chalda did not desire any sacrifice. In his opinion, the malis of Chalda were not always trustworthy. *** Mahasu is considered to be a particularly popular deity. He dominates a vast territory. What is the secret of his power? First, as we have seen, he (especially Chalda, but probably also “Mahasu” and Botha) was characterized by a stormy temperament, at least until the middle of the twentieth century, which helped extend his reach. Botha, because of his injury and resulting need to remain in his main temple, has special ways of spreading his influence which are unrelated to movement by palki. This not only helped him extend his space, but also ensured that a daily puja would be performed in every temple of Mahasu where one of his nishans resides. Thus, his temples are active, and the faith is practiced on a daily basis at the ritual level throughout his territory. Mahasu’s great advantage is that he is actually four brothers. This is not unusual, of course. In the Jubbal region, for example, there are another three brother gods: Raithru, Banar, and Shari Banar. It is interesting to draw a comparison between these brothers and Mahasu. The followers of Shari Banar believe that he resembles Banar in temperament, etc. Moreover, some of them insist that Shari Banar actually is Banar. These three brothers also display similar characteristics, for example, their vegetarian diet. The Mahasu brothers, on the other hand, each presents a different character. They each have different styles and personality traits—from the Pahari 5 The villagers of Tikri agreed to pay five lakh Indian rupees to express their respect and to make peace. This money helped build a new temple in Saraji.

97

The Four Brothers

characteristics of Chalda to the prominent Shaivist characteristics of Pabasi. The nature of each of the brothers’ control over their followers also differs. Pabasi and Bashik govern relatively small areas (Bangan and Bawar, respectively) and maintain tighter control over their territories than Botha and Chalda. Chalda has a large territory, and his effect is usually felt only where he is located at any given moment. He is also perceived as far less threatening than he had been in the past. Botha, the most popular of the four brothers, is grounded in Hanol. Because of this special characteristic, his political and judicial power is distributed among hundreds of villages. His great advantage—the ability to easily gain territory with the help of nishans—is also the cause of the limitations to his sovereignty. Decisions made in Hanol do not necessarily bind all the villages that have a temple to Botha. Worship of Botha therefore displays stylistic flexibility: each village for itself, each area for itself. The Mahasu brothers’ different identities and Botha’s stylistic flexibility provide a range of ritual and theology for villagers to draw upon. This is especially true in the twenty-f irst century, when many socio-religious changes can be seen with regard to the Mahasu brothers’ identities. The practice of animal sacrifice (bali) is a good example. Not only does Chalda accept bali, while Pabasi is a strict vegetarian, but every village where Botha is present decides for itself whether to continue the practice of sacrifice or switch to vegetarianism. *** The collective Mahasu has two strong identity traits: he is a ruler, and he is a manifestation of Shiva. As I have demonstrated in this section, each of the Mahasu brothers has a different style of governance through which each one manages his territory. The next section deals with how Mahasu is related to Shiva, and the differences between the brothers in this regard.

Mahasu as Shiva In September 2013, Narendra Modi was nominated as the Bharatiya Janata Party’s (BJP) candidate for prime minister in the 2014 Lok Sabha election. The evening he was declared, I was staying with Adva and Hagar in Jubbal. Someone we knew, a local politician and loyal fan of the BJP, came with some of his friends to the guesthouse where we were staying. Drunk with

98 

The Biogr aphy of a God

victory, they began to talk about Mahasu and faith in the devtas. One of them, who his friends considered particularly intelligent, surprised them by saying that the devtas were actually righteous men who had passed away and ascended to become deities after their death. Furthermore—again to the amazement of his friends—he declared that mediumship was a false phenomenon, performed by people who are mentally ill. His friends were shocked. Our friend started shouting loudly, “You don’t believe in the devtas?! You don’t believe?!” His friends’ astonishment indicated that he had not expressed his ideas before, and had only voiced them when drunk. We laughed about this whole surreal episode. A bunch of drunk people had just discovered that their supposedly sophisticated friend does not share their views about the devtas. Although, over the years, I have occasionally heard—especially from the younger generation—the opinion that devtas are persons who have ascended to the level of divinity, the theory is far from widely accepted. This is especially true with regard to Mahasu, who is considered a supreme devta. Almost all followers of Mahasu see him as a manifestation of Shiva. In this chapter I consider how the connection between Mahasu and Shiva, and even Vishnu, has recently started deepening. *** As in other parts of India, the meaning of the word bhagwan is not uniform in Mahasu’s territory.6 There are those, usually among the more educated, who use the word bhagwan to describe the ultimate god. As the pujari (priest) of Dhar village once described, this is comparable to a tree with branches: there is the ultimate god (bhagwan), then there is Shiva, and then Mahasu. Others apply the word bhagwan to the high gods of the Hindu pantheon, such as Shiva and Vishnu. Then there are those who refer to practically every god as bhagwan. In Chiwan, when I asked for clarification about the term bhagwan and how it related to Mahasu, one villager replied, “[Mahasu] is a god. He is like Shiva and he is bhagwan, he is our bhagwan.” And indeed, I witnessed conversations between Mahasu (via his mediums) and villagers in which the villagers addressed him as bhagwan, aside from other terms such as deva and maharaj (the great king). Whether or not they call Mahasu bhagwan, it is common knowledge among his followers that Mahasu is related to Shiva. During fieldwork in Mahasu’s territory, I detected two distinct opinions about the relationship between local devtas and the high gods of the Hindu pantheon in general, and between 6 On the diverse usage of the word bhagwan in India, see Lochtefeld, 2002.

The Four Brothers

99

Mahasu and Shiva in particular. The first sees the devtas as a pure manifestation of the god(s): they are, in fact, the same. According to this view, in the Pahari language Shiva is called Mahasu—maha (great) Shiva. Therefore, as one young Brahmin from Jubbal told me, “Mahasu is simply Shiva.” The second makes a clearer distinction between Mahasu and Shiva. For example, a schoolteacher from Chiwan stressed that the devtas are not gods, explaining the difference between God and devtas such as Mahasu: “God is the invisible Shiva. Shiva is the particular God. There is no birth, no place. God is some other power. But they (the devtas) are the representatives of God on the land. […] They are provided by God to keep the men near God.” Here we can see the distinction between the god (Shiva) and his representatives. As one man from Thangar told me: “There is a family of gods; we believe in them. But we also believe in one god, bhagwan, who has no shape. The devtas are kind of messengers. Suppose there is a king (bhagwan), so the rest of them (devtas) are ministers of the king.” As can be seen from the two quotes, Mahasu is not Shiva. Mahasu is also not exactly a manifestation of Shiva. But more of a messenger or a minister. It is fair to say that the view of many villagers regarding the connection between the devtas and the high gods of the Hindu pantheon lies somewhere between these two standpoints. That is: Mahasu is a manifestation of Shiva, a branch of Shiva, a part of Shiva. Mahasu is not exactly Shiva, but neither is he merely a representative or messenger of Shiva. Studies indicate that the ties between local deities (devi-devta) in Pahari society and the pantheon of Hindu gods are growing stronger due to the spread of pan-Hindu influences and modernization.7 In some cases, the identity of the devtas has changed sharply; this is sometimes even expressed in the name of the devta. One example of this process can be found in a study by Sarah Levenstam, who conducted her research in a village named Seepur, in Shimla district. The name of the village is drawn from the name of the main devta in the village, Seep. The villagers now call their local deity Shiv in addition to the old name Seep. Accordingly, they also call their village both Seepur and Shivpur.8 Another example, provided by William 7 For example, Halperin (2019) explores the negotiations between Hadimba’s followers and the influence of pan-Indian and global paradigms. These studies from the Himalayas complement other studies from throughout India that describe transformations in the identities of gods as a result of Sanskritization, modernization, and even gentrification (For example, Flueckiger, 2015; Foulston, 2002; Mallebrein, 2007, 2014; Waghorne, 2001). 8 Levenstam, 2013. According to Berti (2009, note 26), “[m]ost of the village gods [in Kullu valley] have two names, one local and another which identify the god with a figure of the two Mahabharata and Ramayana epics.”

100 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Sax, describes what he calls the “identity crisis” of a devta formerly named Duryodhana but today (also) known as Someshvara. His transition to the new name, which is perceived as a manifestation of Shiva, is not absolute; the locals are somewhat ambivalent about the god’s identity.9 This process of increased identification between the devtas and the high gods of the Hindu pantheon has not skipped over Mahasu’s territory, and indeed in the last twenty years, ascetic Shaivite elements are becoming more dominant. This does not mean that Mahasu has suddenly started to be regarded as Shiva, or that by attributing to Mahasu the titles of Shiva his essence and functions as a local devta have dramatically changed. It does mean that in some places his identification with Shiva is becoming clearer and more explicitly connected to a Brahmanic perspective. A look at the Pabasi temple in Thadiyar demonstrates this phenomenon. In June 2003 a new Chalda temple was consecrated in Thadiyar. Chalda originally intended to build this temple for himself, but later he decided to continue wandering and gave the temple to Pabasi.10 After it was declared to be Pabasi’s, the temple underwent significant changes to identify Pabasi with Shiva. For example, the sign on the temple’s front entrance reads: “Maha Śiv Mandir” (“The temple of Shiva”). More signs related to Shiva can be found near the temple. There is a big statue of Nandi (Shiva’s bull) in the courtyard, with Shiva’s trishul (trident) nearby. The identification with Shiva was extended further when in 2017 large statues of Shiva, Parvati, and Ganesha were placed in the courtyard of the temple near the statue of the Nandi. The villagers still regard the temple in Thadiyar as the main temple of Pabasi, not of Shiva, but the identification of Pabasi with Shiva has become much more prominent. One villager in Thadiyar expressed this identification as follows: “Pabasi is like Shiv, he also takes marijuana and he has Nandi. His mali (medium) needs to take marijuana to be under his influence. So he is a part of Lord Shiva.” It seems that these changes in Thadiyar have set the tone for others, because since 2012 at least two more villages in Pabasi’s territory, Khashdhar and Chiwan, have built Nandi statues in front of their temples. The connection between Pabasi and Shiva is also manifest in a myth I heard in the village of Chiwan. This is a local version of a well-known legend that links the temples in Kedarnath (in Uttarakhand, India) and Pashupatinath (in Nepal). The legend states that Shiva turned into a bull while being chased by Bhima, the second brother of the five Pandavas. When Bhima caught Shiva by the tail, Shiva buried himself under the ground 9 Sax, 2006. 10 See also Bhatt, 2010: 195.

The Four Brothers

101

Image 10  Statues of Shiva, Parvati, Ganesha, and Nandi in Thadiyar

Photo by Asaf Sharabi

at Kedarnath. While Shiva’s back stayed in Kedarnath, his head emerged in Pashupatinath. The local version in Chiwan adds important locations in Bangan to the story. During the time of the Mahabharata, Bhima was stricken with leprosy in his hand. A pandit suggested that he would find a cure by seeing the face of Nandi in the temple in Kedarnath. Bhima went in search of Nandi and was told that Nandi was in Devban. When Bhima came to Devban, Nandi fled because he did not want to see a person afflicted with leprosy. He then fled to many places, including Thadiyar. When he came to Kedarnath he dove into the ground but Bhima caught him, so his back is still in Kedarnath, while his head came out in Pashupatinath. This local myth links the Mahabharata both to Thadiyar and to Devban, Pabasi’s sacred grove. Further evidence of the growing identification between the Mahasu brothers and Shiva is reflected in a new interpretation of the Jagra, the annual festival in honor of Mahasu. The Jagra is usually celebrated on the day of Ganesh Chaturthi, a Hindu festival dedicated to Ganesha, the son of Shiva. Thus I heard the assertion that the Jagra is actually a celebration of Ganesha, the son of Shiva: Our Jagra is also devoted to Ganesha, not only for the Mahasus. But in our local language we call it Jagra. If you go to Maharashtra, there is a Ganpati celebration. If you go to Mumbai or central India, there is Ganpati Utsav (festival). We also celebrate that Ganpati Utsav. And Ganpati or Ganesha

102 

The Biogr aphy of a God

is the son of Maha-Shiva. We also celebrate the birthday of Ganesha. It is also part of Ganesh Chaturthi, and we also dedicate it to Lord Ganesha.

This statement was made by a thirty-year-old man from the Jubbal region who is a pujari of Chhavni (one of Botha’s birs). His understanding of the Jagra as “also dedicated to Lord Ganesha” is definitely not a common view. Nevertheless, it demonstrates how the Hinduism of the plains is setting the tone in the hills. Another testimony to the pan-Indian process can be found in Bashik’s pilgrimage to Kedarnath temple in April–May 2018. Kedarnath temple is dedicated to Shiva and, as one of the sources of the Ganges River, is one of the most important Hindu pilgrimage sites in the Himalayas. Although some locals say this was Bashik’s second tour to Kedarnath, no one knows exactly when he went the first time, so it was probably mythological event. In any case, a pilgrimage to Kedarnath is a rare event, and testifies to the devtas’ willingness to intensify their identification with the high gods of Hinduism. As I mentioned in a previous chapter, the growing identif ication of Mahasu with Shiva is also evident in the katha, the myth that relates how Mahasu came from Kashmir to his present territory. For example, a few of the current versions present the katha with a new story from BrahminicPuranic (Shaivist) texts added to the beginning. The new story describes how a contest between the two sons of Shiva and Parvati, Ganesha and Kartik swami, ends with Kartik swami’s self-dismemberment. From his pieces, so the local narrative goes, the four Mahasu brothers emerged into the world. It is important to note that not everyone is happy with this addition to the katha. Although I also heard this version in the main temple of Mahasu in Hanol, some regard it as a fable or falsehood. As one villager from Bamsu told me, “The notion that Mahasu is a Kartik form is absolutely wrong. It is obvious only from the name Mahasu, that the meaning of Mahasu is Maha-Shiva. The four Mahasu brothers are Maha-Shiva himself, who emerged from the Amarnath Shiva lingam.” Those who oppose the claim that Mahasu is a form of Kartik do not want to diminish the connection between Shiva and Mahasu; on the contrary, they assert that Mahasu is Shiva himself, and not Kartik. The identification of Mahasu with Shiva is a common phenomenon. However, occasionally I found that the locals had made a connection between Mahasu and Vishnu. In the Jubbal area, a few villagers put forward a new idea that Mahasu was a form of Raghunath or Ramacandra (Rama)—two of Vishnu’s ten avatars. For example, a man from Dhar told me, “The books and history say that they (the Mahasu brothers) are from Shiva. But when

The Four Brothers

103

we hear their songs and when the bajgis (musicians) used to sing some songs, the songs are completely Ramaya, Ram leela. So that’s why I used to presume that they are Raghunath or Ramchandra.” He also made the connection between Ramchandra, who has chhatar (umbrella) power and Chalda, who also has chhatar power and is therefore known by some locals as Chhatrapati. I also heard about the connection between Mahasu and Raghunath from Mahasu’s guru, a local Nath shopkeeper living in Hanol.11 When asked about the division between pashi and shathi, he replied: The words shathi and pashi are made to divide the people. It is just some people’s ill thinking. Some people say that this area is of Kauravas and another area is of Pandavas, but it’s nothing like that. There is nothing like shathi or pashi. It is just a rumor. This family (the Mahasu brothers) belongs to Raghunath, and it’s one.

I also heard a similar explanation from Mahasu himself. For example, I was once witness to a conversation in Hanol between Botha Mahasu and three of his followers. In the middle of the conversation one of the men said to (Botha) Mahasu: “We chant your name day and night. Your name comes first, and the name of Ram (one of Vishnu’s avatars) comes later on, but we first chant Mahasu devta.” By saying this, the man wanted to emphasize how important Mahasu was to him: he is seen as no less than the high god of the Hindu pantheon. Mahasu answered: “Obviously, Ram and Mahasu are the same, and that is me. I am everything.” In his answer, Mahasu stressed that there is no difference between him and Ram. He clarified that he is also Ram, and therefore he is the supreme divinity. Another striking fact is that two of Mahasu’s birs are now considered by many locals to be Hanuman, a paradigmatic devotee of Rama. The first is Chhavni, an important bir of Botha Mahasu in the Jubbal region, who is regarded by some (including one pujari and one mali of Chhavni) as Hanuman. Some followers even assert that his murti resembles Hanuman. The second is Sherkulia, Chalda’s main bir. Sherkulia rules over two major regions—Deogar and Fateh Parvat, each of which has different views of Sherkulia. An alternate way of thinking about it is that Sherkulia has a different identity in each region. While in Fateh Parvat his identity is more 11 Botha Mahasu has a human adviser (guru) who assists him with important decisions. This role is transmitted through lineage (parampra system) from father to son. Some other deities in and around the Jubbal region have a similar setup, such as Baindra in the Kotkhai area and Banar in the Hatkoti area.

104 

The Biogr aphy of a God

traditionally Pahari (this includes sacrifices, for example), in Deogar he has a more pan-Hindu identity. Not only no sacrifices made for Sherkulia in this region, but he is also regarded as a form of Hanuman. A big statue of Hanuman stands in his large, beautiful temple in Raigi village. Moreover, in Raigi, the four Mahasu brothers are characterized as follows: “Chalda Mahasu is an avatar (reincarnation) of Ram. Pabasi is an avatar of Lakshman (Rama’s twin brother in the epic Ramayana). Botha Mahasu is an avatar of Shatrughna (youngest brother of Rama), and Bashik Mahasu is an avatar of Bharat (second brother of Rama).” This statement is surprising in its details. However, it is important to remember that it is also quite unusual in the local landscape, which generally identifies Mahasu with Shiva. The idea that Mahasu is Vishnu or one of his avatars is part of a larger phenomenon in the area. In addition to these two birs, two other devtas (from the Jubbal region), Banar and Shari Banar, are also starting to be regarded as avatars of Vishnu. As well as the link between Mahasu and Vishnu, there is another, even less common understanding of Mahasu’s identity that claims that Mahasu was a great man who rose to the rank of deity after his death. As in the story at the beginning of the chapter (of the drunk men who celebrated Modi’s nomination), I heard this idea mostly from educated young people. An example of this was a man in Bhatar village who claimed that Mahasu and the other devtas are not gods: “These devtas, they are our ancestors. This is how I personally feel. They have done something, some justice, in the past. They did a good job for people or I think they were social activists. So people are now worshipping them.” Those who hold this view are not only referring to Mahasu; the interpretation is directed towards all devtas, and it carries a message for human beings. As a young man from Jubbal once told me enthusiastically: He (Mahasu) was a normal person. He was doing a big thing, and afterwards he became a god. In my opinion, each and every person can become god—me and you. It all depends upon the work we do. We can do it! You and I can be gods! You have to look at them like a man, a person, a human being. So then each and every person who lives in this entire world is a god.

The idea that a devta was an important man who rose to divinity after death is not a common view. In fact, it is rarely heard, and then mostly from the younger generation. Moreover, I also heard it used in a pejorative way to describe other people’s devtas. For example, a thani (priest’s assistant) in Hanol who is a proud resident of the Bangan region (part of Uttarakhand)

105

The Four Brothers

told me that most of the devtas in Himachal Pradesh were important men, unlike Mahasu and the other deities in Uttarakhand, who were always deities. Another example is provided by the followers of Nandrari in the Kotkhai region, who told me that Baindra, a rival devta, was a notable man. However, there are also cases in which the followers of a devta claim that their devta had been an important man, which is usually attributed to the time of the Mahabharata. This is the case for Mohrish in the Rohru region and Nageshwar of Jherag village in the Jubbal region. *** The identification of Mahasu with Shiva (and, to a lesser extent, with Vishnu) has grown in the twenty-first century. However, Shiva is worshipped differently than Mahasu. For example, he does not travel between villages and has many representatives. This means that he operates in less concrete ways than Mahasu. If Mahasu’s identification with Shiva is becoming stronger, does that mean that Mahasu is starting to be worshipped in more abstract ways? That is the subject of the next section.

Gods between Here and Everywhere At noon, one day in September 2019, I was contacted by Harish. He urged me to come to the village of Sirthi to attend ratri puja. This is an event at which one of the locals invites Mahasu to their house for a specific purpose, most often to thank Mahasu for fulfilling their wishes, such as solving a medical or financial problem. In this case, a man from the village of Deul had asked Botha to come to his house for an undisclosed reason. When I arrived at Sirthi, about thirty people, residents of Sirthi or Deul, were waiting in the temple courtyard. Soon after I entered, the local medium, possessed by Botha, emerged from the temple. The man from Deul stood in front of him and invited Botha to enter his house. Botha, through the medium, agreed. Harish stood next to the medium, holding a chhari (stick) in his hand. When the people began to walk from the temple courtyard towards Deul, Botha departed from the medium (the gentle repetitive nodding of his head ceased). From that moment, the chhari held by Harish was the expression of Botha that moved with the people to the neighboring village. Some thirty people left Sirthi and walked with the chhari along the forest paths, accompanied by the sounds of drums. Three miles on, we reached the main road, where passersby approached Botha to pay homage and to

106 

The Biogr aphy of a God

donate some rupees. After walking for a mile on the main road we stopped for drinks and sweets organized by the family who had invited Botha. After a twenty-minute break we continued walking through the forest. Five miles further on, we arrived at our destination. In Himachal Pradesh, people do not allow Botha to enter their homes, because they do not want him to claim ownership of the house by staying overnight. Therefore, a tent had been prepared for Botha, where he stayed for one night. The next day, he returned to Sirthi. For the locals, for the duration of Botha’s visit to Deul, the temple in Sirthi was considered unoccupied by Botha. The most prominent sign of this was that the daily puja was not performed in Sirthi, but in Deul. This episode demonstrates how Botha manifests in concrete ways—through a medium and a moving object. As someone born and raised in Israel, I am accustomed to thinking of a monotheistic God who is everywhere at the same time. Even in the Hindu tradition (especially in Advaitic epistemology), gods are not considered to be at only one place at any given moment. However, the idea that a devta is in one specific place at any given moment is prevalent in the Western Himalayas, and is connected to the practice of royal deities moving from place to place in their territory and communicating with their subjects through mediums and objects.12 Perception of the gods—at least in the case of Mahasu—is more complex, as it is also possible to observe among the locals, worship of an abstract notion of Mahasu. In this section I present both perceptions: first, the concrete view of Mahasu, and then the abstract. I also argue that the latter is on the rise. The concrete view of Mahasu is seen in the concept of the devta as a ruler (devta ka raj) and political figure that administers local politics just like a king. As such, the Mahasu brothers travel in their territories, from village to village, and traditionally they are not believed to be present everywhere at the same time. Thus, if one asks a local villager where Chalda is at present, the answer will be the specific village where Chalda is currently staying. Since I embarked on my research in 2013, Chalda has journeyed between seven villages—Koti, Mandol, Thangar, Janog, Tharoach, Koti-Kanasar, and Mohana. Every year, his strict followers (and I, as an ethnographer) went to see him (darshan) in the village where he was staying, or at least kept themselves informed of his whereabouts. Similarly, when Bashik went on his pilgrimage to Kedarnath in April–May 2018, the belief among the locals was that he had departed from his home temple in Maindrath to spend a few weeks in his journey to Kedarnath until he returned. 12 See, for example, Sax, 2000; Sutherland, 2006.

The Four Brothers

107

Image 11  Doria of Mahasu on the road in the Pabbar river valley

Photo by Asaf Sharabi

Another aspect of the concrete notion of the divinity of the Mahasu brothers is how they manifest. They do so through objects such as palki (palanquins) and nishans (literally, signs), usually in the form of a stick (chhari) or a bowl (doria). Thus, for example, when a Mahasu brother leaves his temple to participate in the inauguration ritual of a new temple (pratishtha) for another devta, he does so by traveling in his palanquin or through one of his nishans. In June 2019, a pratishtha was held for a rebuilt temple to Pabasi and Chalda in Bamsu village. One of the announcements explicitly stated which devtas were expected to attend the event: Pabasi with his palki and Bashik, Botha, and Chalda with their dorias. The announcement also mentioned that these were the original (mool) Mahasu brothers, not replicas. In other words, Bashik from Maindrath, Botha from Hanol, and Chalda from Koti-Kanasar (where Chalda was staying at the time). The proclamation also mentioned that two Sherkulia would attend the event—one from Raigi village and one from the Fateh Parvat region. This announcement exemplifies the concrete notion of divinity: not only is it important to mention which devtas will participate in the pratishtha, but also their exact manifestations. Apart from objects, the Mahasu brothers also manifest through human mediums (mali) so they can converse with the locals. In these conversations,

108 

The Biogr aphy of a God

the concreteness of the religious experience is very clear. Mahasu can provide healing, advice, guidance, and instruction on how to act for both individuals and the community. He can speak softly and mercifully, but he can also raise his voice in anger. He can point to an object, bring rice to his followers, hold the soil that they bring him to examine, and even touch the believers themselves. For example, a newly married couple came to Hanol in 2018, still in their marriage clothes, to ask (Botha) Mahasu for help. The wife was restless. During the meeting, she frequently shivered and made sounds as if something had entered her body. Mahasu, through the mali, identified the problem and called on the spirit inside the wife’s body to reveal itself. He wanted to know whether the spirit had bad intentions or wanted to protect the woman: (Calling to the spirit) You come here! You come here! You come in front of me. If you want to protect this pind (house/family/body), if you are a goddess (devi), come outside, come fast. You are not an aged person but you have been gone for a long time. Ok now open your mouth. Open your mouth. Speak up. Speak up. Now see, the thing is, you know everything, the one who knows how to do these things (to enter into another body) knows how to talk as well. Understood? First of all, you shouldn’t have … either you shouldn’t have presented yourself in the first place, and now that you have presented yourself, you will have to talk now. Understood? (Addressing the woman) The one inside you is Shakti (power). (Addressing the spirit) And if you are inside this body for protection of her then either leave the body or appear in front of us. Either you leave the body or show your presence. You have been inside this for a long time. You shouldn’t have presented yourself in the first place, and now that you have come here, now you have to answer me. You don’t want to come? Why, and if you are a goddess (devi), and you are here to protect them, and so all the doors are open for you. I have everything open here. If you want anything else, you can talk to me regarding that. But now, I don’t want to wait anymore, either you start talking, if you want to say something, that is if you are here to protect the family, you can speak now. (Throwing rice on the woman) You will have to speak today. Speak up now.

The woman started crying, shaking, and making sounds as if something had entered in her body. Then the spirit started talking from within her: Spirit: I have come to protect them (the couple). Mahasu: You have come here to protect? To protect?

The Four Brothers

109

Spirit: (nodding) Mahasu: Promise me! Promise me! Give me a promise!

The woman (or I should say the spirit) held out her hand to Mahasu, placing it in the mali’s hand to seal the promise. It was exciting to see. It is one thing to see how people talk with gods, but another thing entirely to see gods and spirits talk to each other and even touch each other. The concrete notion of divinity is also prominent when Mahasu and other devtas meet. Devtas meet each other at annual events and special occasions. When they do, they express themselves with their palki and nishans in several ways—they can bow before a holy site, they can run, they can bathe in a holy river, and they can dance, moving back and forth. In other words, when they manifest through either objects or a human body, the Mahasu brothers act as agents who can express their thoughts and feelings.13 An illustrative example occurred in July 2019. When a murti (idol) of Chalda was built and introduced into the temple in Saraji, a few devtas came to participate in the event. Chalda was the host and he welcomed each devta that came to the event. One of them was Pabasi, in the form of a doria. When Chalda welcomed Pabasi on his arrival, it was in the form of a palki carried by two men; the man in front was a local mali. Pabasi’s doria was held by a thani (priest’s assistance, a common practice), who also happened to be a mali. When Chalda and Pabasi approached each other, the two malis became possessed. They hugged and greeted each other extensively and emotionally. For those who attended the event, it was Chalda and Pabasi who spoke and performed the physical gestures, and it excited those in attendance. After the event, I spoke to the man who had carried Pabasi’s doria, and he jokingly told me that the audience had two performances for the price of one, since he is both a thani and a mali. Finally, the concrete understanding of the divinity of the Mahasu brothers can be seen in their practice of puja. The three Mahasu brothers who move from one village to another—Chalda, Pabasi, and Bashik—have temples devoted to them that are scattered throughout their territories. Usually they stay in one of these temples, unless they are journeying from one village to another, when they stay in a tent. The daily puja for these three brothers is performed only in the temples where they are at that moment. In other temples, a puja is carried out only once a month (saji or Sankranti), or a few times a month. For example, during most of 2018, Chalda stayed in the village of Tharoach, so the daily puja was performed only there. In other temples to 13 See, for example, Halperin (2019: 37–83), for the case of the goddess Hadimba.

110 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Chalda, puja took place only once a month. The reason behind this custom is the perception that the devtas stay in one place at a time. Thus, if Chalda is in Tharoach, the other Chalda temples must be empty, so the puja is not performed there on a daily basis. In addition, in Hanol and the in temples where the three roaming brothers stay, an evening ritual (at 9 p.m.) called sandhya is performed, during which the bell rings for ten minutes. This practice is not followed in other Mahasu temples; it only happens where the four original (mool) Mahasu are staying at any given moment. However, the notion of divinity related to Mahasu and other devtas in the region is more complex than these examples of concreteness would indicate. One thing that puzzled me about the concrete notion of Mahasu was the central temple at Hanol, where there are images (murti) of all four Mahasu brothers. Three of them are itinerant devtas, so where exactly are they at any given moment—in the main temple in Hanol, or in the village where they are said to be staying? For example, where is Pabasi? Is he at Hanol or in his main temple in Thadiyar? Similarly, if Chalda moved from Tharoach to Koti-Kanasar at the end of 2018, does that mean he is not in Hanol? There are individuals who demonstrate belief in the Pahari notion of divinity (the itinerant, concrete version of divinity) by saying that the Mahasu brothers can only be present in one place at a time. I even heard this from priests in Hanol. For example, on one visit to Hanol, I observed the idols of the four Mahasu brothers in the temple and asked the priests where Chalda, Pabasi, and Bashik were at that moment. Are they here (since I can see their idols) or in Koti-Kanasar, Bamsu, and Maindrath (the villages where they were staying on that day)? The priests affirmed that they are in the villages. There is also a murti of Botha’s wife in Hanol. When I asked the priests where the wives of the other Mahasu brothers were, they told me that they were “with them.” In other words, the three itinerant Mahasu brothers are not in Hanol, but instead in the villages where they are staying. On other occasions, other members of the administration of the temple in Hanol (pujaris, thanis, bhandaris) maintained that all four Mahasu brothers are in Hanol and that all other manifestations of Mahasu are replicas. Even outside of Hanol, I was made aware of the importance of Hanol and the acknowledgment that all four Mahasu are (also) there. I even heard from the wazir (head of management) of pashi, who was once in dispute with the administration of Hanol, that “Hanol is the main place” of the four Mahasu brothers and Pabasi is in both Thadiyar and Hanol. The idea that the Mahasu brothers have more than one murti and hence can be in more than one place at a time corresponds with common Hindu

The Four Brothers

111

practices. Once, when I was trying to ascertain exactly where the Mahasu brothers were on a specific day, a Pabasi drummer in Thadiyar said: “This is how it is in all India. There is more than one murti. So you can say Mahasu is mostly in Hanol, but he is everywhere.” The drummer was trying to explain this idea of the abstraction of the devta by linking it with how he believes God is perceived all over India. In Bamsu, I heard the same explicit message when I asked about the location of the Mahasu brothers. In June 2018, the palki (palanquin) of Chalda was in Tharoach, the palki of Bashik was in Maindrath, and the palki of Pabasi was in Thadiyar. When I asked the head of the village (sayana) whether the Mahasu brothers were in Hanol or elsewhere at that moment, he replied: “They are in Hanol also. It’s like Shiva, one lingam (representation of Shiva) is here and another lingam is there also. So they are here also and there also.” This message, which emphasizes the parallels between the local and general Indian experiences, was frequently repeated by the locals. It seems that this idea is particularly common in the case of Botha. Because Botha is symbolized by a nishan and not by a palki (as the other three Mahasu brothers are), Botha’s temples are always active, and the daily puja is offered in each one of them regardless of whether they contain a nishan (sign) or a murti (idol), as in the temple in Hanol.14 Not surprisingly, I heard the idea that Botha is omnipresent from Botha himself. For example, in one case a couple came to Hanol to consult Botha about their son’s condition. Botha gave them some rice grains, telling them to throw them over the boy’s head and put them inside the temple. The woman then asked, “In which temple should we put these rice grains? In this temple (in Hanol) or our temple in the village?” Botha replied: “I am here and there (yahan ya vahan). You can put them anywhere, as you wish.” Another expression of the less concrete view is the fact that, in addition to their main murtis, Bashik, Pabasi, and Chalda have other palanquins with murtis on a small scale in specific villages. For example, Chalda in Khashdhar, Bashik in Jakhnoti, and Pabasi in Bholar. The daily puja is also performed in the temples in these villages. This means that the presence of a palanquin determines, to a great extent, the actual presence of 14 In Hanol the daily puja takes place between 4 p.m. and 5 p.m. The same is true in the temples of the other three roaming Mahasu brothers. In other villages the daily puja is usually conducted in the morning (around 9–10 a.m.) instead of in the afternoon. In Hanol, I was given an explanation for Mahasu’s puja being held so late: in Kashmir, the story goes, Mahasu stayed in a pond because he was harassed by Muslims. It was only when Muslims went to say their namaz (prayers), around 4 p.m., that the Mahasu brothers felt it was safe to emerge.

112 

The Biogr aphy of a God

a devta. However, the connection between the murtis and palanquins of the same devta is complex and cannot be seen only through the prism of concretization. Let us examine the case of Chalda. The main Chalda travels from village to village in both pashi and shathi. In addition, there some small-scale Chaldas. Two that I know of are situated in the corners of Mahasu’s territory—in the south of shathi, in the village of Thaina, and in the north of pashi, in the village of Khashdhar. While the main Chalda’s travels in shathi do not reach the area near Thaina, he does stay in Khashdhar for two years of his rotation in pashi. On one of my visits to Khashdhar, I asked a local pujari (priest) about the other two “small” Chaldas, but his response was that there is only one Chalda: “There is nothing like a big or small Chalda. All are the same.” To exemplify this notion, he told me that when people from Khashdhar went to the main Chalda for help with their problems, Chalda told them that the Chalda in Khashdhar is also him, so they could solve their problems in their own village: there is no need to come to the main Chalda, as the Chalda in Khashdhar “is also my (Chalda) part, I am also there.” This notion of divinity could be seen vividly in the ritual event in Saraji that I described above. The temple was that of the “main” Chalda, who was in Saraji from 2007 to 2012. In July 2019, Chalda was far away, in Uttarakhand (in Koti-Kanasar village), so the palki representing Chalda was the Chalda from Khashdhar. The ritual events in Saraji were held from July 4 to July 7. On the first days, a mali from Khashdhar (of the “small” Chalda) carried the palki, while on the last days, a mali from Saraji (of the “main” Chalda) carried it. In this instance, the concretization of the different Chaldas was replaced by only one, more abstract Chalda. In 2014 the main Chalda was in Koti, a small village near Hanol. Koti is the first village in Chalda’s rotation in shathi, and he stayed there for two years—from late 2012 to late 2014. When I asked the villagers in Khashdhar where Chalda was—in Koti, Khashdhar, or Hanol?—the pujari answered: “These are stations which he has made, like we have bus stops.” A young Brahmin completed his answer, saying, “these are the stations for physical staying, but otherwise he is everywhere.” An abstract notion of divinity is also expressed by how the villagers view mediums. More and more villagers, especially young people, are beginning to challenge the traditional belief in the credibility of the mali—the medium through whom the devta speaks with his/her followers. Although it is difficult to determine to what extent these voices represent a major overall change, it is clear that today these doubts are present in Mahasu’s territory, especially in the Jubbal region. For example, a thirty-year-old

The Four Brothers

113

educated man in Dhar told me that everything that is corrupt in Mahasu’s system today is related to the mali: Nobody can see devta, so people need to trust the mali. […] If someone has a problem like money, or job or health condition, they will think it is related to devta, so many times they have to believe [the] mali. […] They (the malis) never speak the truth. Everybody can pretend, like an act or a show. How can we trust that without proof? [The] mali told me I will get a certain job—and then it didn’t happen. Mali told me that someone who is about to die will get better and an hour later he died. So how can we trust him?

This young man presents the opinion that mediumship is fraudulent. This opinion does not challenge the institution of the devta, his power, or his symbols, but instead rejects the transformation of divine power through human mediation. It is not an atheist opinion, but rather one searching for a more abstract expression of divinity, one that views the devta as a distant element to be accessed through prayer and ritual, not through direct conversation. Finally, a more abstract conception of Mahasu can also be found in those who emphasize Advaitic (and monotheistic) epistemology. (Perhaps especially) for them, the concrete notion of Mahasu is not his prominent characteristic. For example, when I asked a young Brahmin in Sundli village where the devtas live, he replied: “The big God is Lord Shiva. He is everywhere. The little parts are four Mahasu. Mahasu is one part of Shiva, he is spread like that.” I continued to ask, if Shiva is everywhere and the Mahasu brothers are parts of Shiva (and together they are Shiva), then why can people tell me where Pabasi or Bashik is right now? The young Brahmin replied, “The people who tell you that Pabasi is in Thadiyar and Bashik is in Maindrath don’t understand the meaning of God. How can that be? The temple in Thadiyar is only seven years old, but the devta is much older, he is eternal […] the human mind needs to take their things and worship them. They give them the power.” From his answer it is clear that he has an abstract notion of the devtas. He sees them as eternal, all-pervasive, and omnipresent powers, rather than concrete deities who travel between villages. By connecting and drawing an analogy between Mahasu and Shiva, he was able to easily explain how Mahasu spreads and exists everywhere at any time. Today, the identification of Mahasu with Shiva is more prevalent than ever—and, correspondingly, the concrete understanding of Mahasu is becoming much less common. Indeed, some villagers do not stop at seeing Mahasu as an expression of Shiva, but instead regard him as an expression of an eternal, more abstract god.

114 

The Biogr aphy of a God

I also heard this Advaitic idea in Dhar village from the local pujari. He was asked about the different powers (shakti) of each of the four brothers. This was his answer: In the whole universe there is only one power. It is the same power in every religion, no different. From this power there are branches. Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva. They manifest this one power, but it is the same power, only one. It is like a tree and its roots. The universe is the tree, its roots are in the ground. They are the power. But the branches are seen from outside. We can see them.

His answer is in line with the Advaitic notion of divinity and the politicaltheological idea of “unity in diversity” that has become the popular conception of modern India. He aspires to see his own belief and way of life as correlating with both pan-Hindu beliefs and Western ideas regarding divinity. That is why he repeatedly emphasized that there is only one power (sirf ek shakti hai). To him, the question about the different powers of the Mahasu brothers seemed to misunderstand the most basic concept of God and life: there is only one supreme power (bhagwan), and his power is manifested in all living and non-living beings. I heard a similar explanation from Krishna Lal, an old Brahmin from the Jubbal region, who placed Mahasu in his universal location. He emphasized that God cannot be seen or understood: There are bacteria in our blood! Blood bacteria. It’s there, right? Those bacteria will not come to know about us. Because they are inside us. They don’t know our face. So now the question is that god is so big and we are inside him. So how do we come to know about him? He is only there everywhere. So a very small form of him is in front of us and we call it Mahasu devta form. That god kept his smallest form aside by removing it from him.

According to Krishna Lal, we know almost nothing about God, and only a small part of him can be seen—that is, Mahasu and other devtas. By means of a fable from the Chandogya-Upanishad, he described how the honeydew turns into honey and how god lives within all living beings, like birds or trees: “Do you know the honeybee? So he is there, inside everyone, including you and me. But how much he is there, inside you, you don’t know. He is there in the grass, the trees, and in every leaf. But we don’t have such eyes to look at him.” Like the pujari in Dhar, this old Brahmin understands

115

The Four Brothers

Mahasu first and foremost in the context of the ultimate god, a god that is inside everyone and at the same time cannot be seen or understood. In the same vein, a retired army man from Mandhol village explained to me the essence of Mahasu and other devtas: Actually, these devtas are spirit. They are not visible somewhere. They are hidden spirits. It is a belief. […] these devtas are like god. They are not visible; we just see their action. […] You can’t see any devta physically, but they have got their singhasan (sitting place of god or king). Similarly, they have got certain representations of the devta. In the form of singhasan, in the form of some murti.

In his view, the signs of the gods are only representations of god, not god himself. The divinity is an abstract, spiritual being, whose actions are all that can be seen. *** In keeping with the traditional conception of devtas as kings, local people regard them as actual beings, moving from place to place, talking, and deciding their own affairs. But at the same time, some individuals express more abstract concepts of divinity. It is very possible that these voices have been present for some time, but since they have taken greater hold among the more educated and younger people, it appears that the dominance of these concepts has been gaining ground in recent years. In the more abstract conception of Mahasu, the analogy and connection to the panHindu divine becomes more significant. These developments show how Pahari perspectives of divinity are slowly becoming more connected to the Brahmanical tradition of the Indian plains and linked to the tenets of Advaitic theology. These changes at the conceptual level are accompanied by changes at the practical level: the fading of the local tradition in some areas, the devtas’ transition from carnivorous to vegetarian diets, and their changing movements in space. These are the subject of the next chapter.

Bibliography Berti, Daniela. 2009. “Kings, Gods, and Political Leaders in Kullu (Himachal Pradesh).” In Bards and Mediums in the Khas Kingdoms, edited by Marie LecomteTilouine, 107–136. Almora/Delhi: Himalayan Book Depot.

116 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Bhatt, G.S. 2010. Cult, Religion and Society: Polyandrous People of Western Himalaya. India: Rawat Publications. Bhatt, Ram Prasad, Heinz Werner Wessler, and Claus Peter Zoller. 2014. “Fairy Lore in the High Mountains of South Asia and the Hymn of the Garhwali Fairy ‘Daughter of the Hills.’” Acta Orientalia 75: 79–166. Flueckiger, Joyce Burkhalter. 2015. “‘Who Am I … What Significance Do I Have?’ Shifting Rituals, Receding Narratives, and Potential Change of the Goddess’ Identity in Gangamma Traditions of South India.” Oral Tradition 29: 171–186. Foulston, Lynn. 2002. At the Feet of the Goddess: The Divine Feminine in Local Hindu Religion. Portland, OR: Sussex Academic Press. Halperin, Ehud. 2019. The Many Faces of a Himalayan Goddess: Hadimba, Her Devotees, and Religion in Rapid Change. New York: Oxford University Press. Levenstam, Sarah. 2013. “Rejection and Reaffirmation of Hierarchy in the Himalayas.” Independent Study Project (ISP) Collection. Paper 1647. http://digitalcollections.sit.edu/isp_collection/1647. Lochtefeld, James G. 2002. “Bhagavana.” In The Illustrated Encyclopedia of Hinduism, 94. New York: Rosen. Mallebrein, Cornelia. 2007. “When the Buffaloe Becomes a Pumpkin: The Animal Sacrifice Contested.” In Periphery and Centre: Groups, Categories, Values, edited by Georg Pfeffer, 443–472. New Delhi: Manohar. Mallebrein, Cornelia. 2014. “The Divine Play on Earth: Forms of Possession in Odisha.” In Dialogues with Gods: Possession in Middle Indian Rituals, edited by Tina Otten and Uwe Skoda, 31–76. Berlin: Weissensee Verlag. Rani, Supriya, and Neera Agnimitra. 2021. “Devbans, Caste, Gender and the State: Political Ecology of a Sacred Grove of Himachal Pradesh.” Journal of Social Inclusion Studies 7 (1): 51–64. Sax, William. 2000. “In Karna’s Realm: An Ontology of Action.” Journal of Indian Philosophy 28 (3): 295–324. Sax, William. 2006. “A Divine Identity-Crisis.” In Ritual and Identity: Performative Practices as Effective Transformations of Social Reality, edited by Klaus-Peter Köpping, Bernhard Leistle, and Michael Rudolph, 101–127. Berlin: Lit Verlag. Sutherland, Peter. 2006. “T(r)opologies of Rule (Raj): Ritual Sovereignty and Theistic Subjection.” European Bulletin of Himalayan Research 29–30: 82–119. Vasan, Sudha, and Sanjay Kumar. 2006. “Situating Conserving Communities in Their Place: Political Economy of Kullu Devban.” Conservation and Society 4 (2): 325–346. Waghorne, Joanne Punzo. 2001. “The Gentrification of the Goddess.” International Journal of Hindu Studies 5 (3): 227–267.

4

Local Traditions in Times of Change Abstract In this chapter I focus on three ritual experiences related to Mahasu: the annual major festival (Jagra), animal sacrifices, and the movement in space of Mahasu and his followers. I show that some rituals and practices are currently in the process of change, and ask who is responsible for these changes in the context of discussing the agency of gods. Keywords: agency of gods, fairs and festivals, animal sacrifices, movements of gods

Local Rituals Fade, Gods Persevere The Jagra festival is a very special event for Mahasu’s followers. A few days prior to the festival, people who live outside of Mahasu’s territory begin returning to their home villages. A young woman studying for her master’s degree in Solan, a man working in a government job in Shimla, a schoolteacher working in a distant village—they all come home to be with their families during Jagra. So for the men and women who work outside the village, Jagra is an opportunity to come back home, even for a short while. For those who observe their religion more strictly, it is not just an opportunity for reunion with their family or the other villagers, but also an important religious holiday. For example, Munish is a young man from the Jubbal region who was working in his first job as an engineer. When his boss did not give him vacation time to return to his village for Jagra, he chose to quit his job and come home. Jagra is the most important festival of Mahasu and the other deities in his area. It is said that Mahasu has a rule that at least one person from each family must attend Jagra. The name Jagra is derived from jagran, which literally means staying awake (all night). During Jagra, locals celebrate the arrival of the Mahasu brothers from Kashmir to Maindrath and the establishment of their kingdom. The specific date is decided by the jyotish (astrologist), but it always

Sharabi, A., The Biography of a God: Mahasu in the Himalayas. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press 2023 doi: 10.5117/9789463726658_ch04

118 

The Biogr aphy of a God

falls in the month of Bhadra (August–September), between the fourth and sixth of the white fortnight (tithi). Usually the Jagra of Mahasu falls on the fourth day of Bhadra—which is also the date of Ganesh Chaturthi, a Hindu festival celebrating the birth of Ganesha. This is the date mentioned in one version of the myth recorded by the British as the date the Mahasu brothers came from Kashmir.1 However, some places celebrate on the day after, the date of the Rishi Panchami festival. This may serve a practical purpose. For example, in 2022, the Jagra in Hanol was celebrated on Ganesh Chaturthi, whereas the Jagra in Samalta, where Chalda was staying, was celebrated the next day. As a result, people could attend both mega events.2 I participated in three Jagras of Mahasu in Jubbal temple—on September 9, 2013; on August 25, 2017; and on September 2, 2019. The following is my description of the events. The day before the Jagra, all those who comprised the temple management (mukhya) began to fast. This applies to all functionaries—pujari (priest), thani (priest’s assistance), and bhandari (finance manager). On the day of the Jagra, the management of the temple prepared the prasad (holy food) that was to be eaten on Jagra evening. The prasad usually includes puri (a type of bread) and halva (a sweet dish), and in 2019 rice and dal (pulses) were also offered. In the morning, some people from the village followed the pujari, walking to a source of holy water. There they washed the palms of their hands and their feet and cleaned some of the devta’s belonging as a form of spiritual and physical purification. In the temple courtyard the management prepared a chira, a burning pole made of pinewood and straw.3 This is a one-meter pillar topped with a plate of twigs. A tent was built in the courtyard, where a nishan (sign) of Botha would be placed and a pujari and mali would sit during the evening gathering to receive villagers who want to talk to or be blessed by Mahasu. In the evening people from the village gathered in the temple courtyard, talking and laughing. For about half an hour the pujari and a few other religious personages performed rituals inside the temple while music was 1 The date appears in Rose, Ibbetson, and MacLagan (1919: 404–419), whose version contains many shaivistic elements and was most probably recorded in the Jubbal region. 2 Other devtas in the region who are associated with Mahasu also celebrate Jagra at this time of year. The Jagras of Sherkulia and Lankra, two birs of Mahasu, happen on the second day of Bhadra; on the third day is the Jagra of Shikru devta; and on the fifth day the Jagra of the deities Banar and Shari Banar is celebrated. Banar is mentioned in Rose, Ibbetson, and MacLagan (1919: 404–419), in which he appears in Maindrath on the fifth day of Bhadra, a day after the Mahasu brothers. 3 It is called a chir tree, a species of pine that is native to the Himalayas.

Local Tr aditions in Times of Change

119

Image 12  Chira in Jubbal

Photo by Asaf Sharabi

played by the bajgis in the temple courtyard. Traditionally, the Raja of Jubbal (the ruler of Jubbal princedom until India gained independence in 1947) took part in the Jagra. However, the current Raja and his family live in Shimla, and in recent years it has been the son who comes to Jubbal to represent the royal family. 4 After he arrives, the men light torches (mashhal), and walk in circles holding the burning torches while singing the birsu. This song, sung only once a year, during Jagra, refers to Mahasu’s genealogy and praises him and his family. The practice of lighting torches during Jagra is mainly limited to Himachal Pradesh; in Jaunsar-Bawar (including Hanol), the villagers only light the chira. In the region of Bangan, some villages, such as Chiwan, burn torches during Jagra, while in other villages, like Bhutanu, this custom is not observed. During the singing, the women, children, and some of the men stand aside, watching the event. It was revealing to find that even in this event the caste system is evident—the Brahmins and Rajputs stood in one corner 4 The rulers of Jubbal held the title of rana until 1918. At that time, the British awarded Bhagat Chand the title of raja in recognition of his support during the First World War (Brentnall, 2004: 175).

120 

The Biogr aphy of a God

of the temple courtyard while the low-status castes stood in another. The men with the torches made circles without acknowledging caste differences, although a lot of them were from low-status castes. In doing so, they asserted the importance of Mahasu for their castes, despite the discrimination and exclusion they experience. While the torches burned in the temple courtyard in Jubbal, I looked towards the distant mountains and could see fires burning in some villages, both near and far. This view, beautiful and impressive, underscored the importance of the festival in Mahasu’s territory. After about forty-f ive minutes, the pujari completed the puja, and the people lit the chira from the torches. Then everybody received some blessed food (prasad). In 2013 when this part ended, it was followed by traditional folk dances consisting of circles of men and women, both separate and mixed. It was the younger generation who took the lead in this part of the festival, which ended rather quickly. In 2017 and in 2019 there was no traditional folk dance after the distribution of the prasad. Then, most of the participants returned home. All in all, the Jagra was an intensive three-hour event. From the earliest descriptions of the Jagra festival in several places in Mahasu’s territory and from the villagers’ descriptions of how Jagra was celebrated until recently in the Jubbal region, it seems that the Jagra in Jubbal has retained its basic characteristics over the years.5 However, there have been some changes. One change is the lack of bali (animal sacrifice) in Jubbal, since three years before I first came to the village in 2013. In other parts of Himachal Pradesh, this changes from village to village: some give bali while others do not. In Hanol, bali has also ceased.6 Changes to this ritual performance are progressing rapidly and are closely tied to the modern state (laws against animal sacrifices) and pan-Indian notions regarding pure and impure actions (animal sacrifice) and the notion of ahimsa (nonviolence). When I asked a young local in the Jubbal region if a goat is sacrificed in his village during Jagra, he replied: “They don’t do that anymore. You see, people don’t believe in ghosts (bhut) like they used to.” And indeed, the 5 An earlier description of the Jagra festival appears in Emerson’s manuscript, written in the early twentieth century (Emerson, Mss.Eur.E.321, chapter 4, 41–44). Bhatt’s (2010: 255–266) description was obtained from an informant as he did not participate in the Jagra himself. Shorter descriptions of the Jagra can also be found in Saksena (1962) and Sen (1971). 6 According to Bhatt (2010), bali was conducted in Hanol for purification reasons: women were permitted to enter the temple to the second chamber, so the temple had to be purified. The next morning, a female goat was slaughtered and its blood was smeared on the floor of the temple. Slaughter is now banned in Hanol’s temple, so this ritual is no longer conducted, even though women are now permitted to enter the temple all year.

Local Tr aditions in Times of Change

121

performance of bali is linked to widespread Pahari beliefs in ghosts and evil spirits. It also manifests in the interpretation of the fire used in the Jagra. There is a traditional interpretation about lighting the fire that it is meant to expel evil spirits that tend to visit during the dark nights of Bhadra.7 It is for this reason that people used to light a chira in their homes every day of the month, to keep all of these negative forces away. However, nowadays people light a chira on the first day of the month (called the chira festival), but only in some of the houses is a chira lighted every day of the month. With regard to the Jagra, the common interpretation today in the Jubbal region—especially amongst the younger generation—is that the chira and torches are burned during the Jagra for the glory of Mahasu, more than to expel evil spirits (although the two ideas are connected). Another significant change is the duration of the Jagra. The villagers in Jubbal alluded to the fact that until several years earlier, Jagra had been celebrated all night long.8 People would stay awake and dance in a display of devotion to Mahasu, praying and spending time with each other. As one local Brahmin in his late twenties said, “It used to be like that, we all stayed awake all night. But now only five or six villages [in the region] do that.” One of these villages that preserves the custom of staying awake the whole night does so because Botha Mahasu, through a local mali, informed the villagers that it is compulsory for two people from every house, one male and one female, to remain awake all night during Jagra. A thirty-year-old Brahmin from the Jubbal region mentioned the diminution of Jagra in his village as a measure of weakened community life: The Jagra is a cultural thing. The local culture of this village has been stopped, has been ended. When the Jagra was celebrated when I was a child, it was very rich. It was a very good celebration. The people come together; they dance till morning. Behind the religion, the basic idea is the love of the people together. Community life. The basic idea of the establishment and the system of devta is, to gather the people, make one, not different. But the system doesn’t make one. It makes difference. They are making differences between the people.

For this educated young man, Jagra is a means to connect people. He further pointed out that the tradition is decaying because of discrimination against 7 See also Bhatt, 2010: 259. 8 According to Emerson (Mss.Eur.E.321) and Bhatt (2010), in other regions the Jagra also took place all night.

122 

The Biogr aphy of a God

women and the mismanagement of religious institutions, because of politics and finance—that is, for reasons that are not connected with the essence of the tradition. The changes that took place in the Jagra over time are linked to the broader issue of the waning of local traditions. A young teacher in Jubbal spoke sadly about the disappearance of the tradition and the weaker performance of Jagra, saying that within fifteen years they were going to lose their culture: “As kids we saw so many festivals and celebrations. Every month there was some kind of drama with wooden masks. But in the last ten years you can hardly see any. People are busy with their work.” Another young Brahmin from Sundli village told me sadly, “We lost our tradition. If you see Jagra here, it is only for two or three hours and the event is fully closed. The reason behind it is that people don’t want to celebrate all these things. They believe in god but they just formally go there doing their rituals in fifteen minutes or twenty minutes, completing all these things. After that they go to their homes.” The changes in the Jagra festival can also be seen in other local traditional events. Bishu, which takes place in the month of Chaitra (March–April), is a good example.9 It is a festival that marks the new year and is usually celebrated on April 13 or April 14. At the heart of the Bishu festival is a performance that mimics the art of archery, linking people with previous times when the locals were ruled by villages of warriors (khund). Bishu is celebrated with a bow and arrow display in Jaunsar-Bawar, and it takes on a particularly high profile when Chalda roams in that region. This was the case in April 2019 in Koti-Kanasar. In Himachal Pradesh, however, Bishu is not particularly marked and there is no archery display. Until the 1990s, Bishu was celebrated more prominently in the Jubbal region. Koli, a large low-status caste group, were entrusted with collecting brass (rhododendrons) from the forest and bringing them to the temple. Necklaces were then woven from the flowers (brass ki mala) and given to the people. In the afternoon, people would gather in the temple, receive prasad (holy food), and celebrate the event with dancing. Now none of this occurs. When I was in Jubbal during Bishu, I was unable to tell whether a festival or holiday was taking place: it felt like a regular day. People just went to the temple, received prasad, and went home. 9 There are four main sangrand (the first day of a month in the Indian solar calendar) that relate to Mahasu, and these dates are celebrated in most of the temples. The dates are: Makar Sankranti on the first day of Magh; Bishu on the first day of Baisakh; Dakhdain on the first day of Shravan; and Chadaival on the first day of Bhadra. During the last event, people light chira (fire) in their homes.

Local Tr aditions in Times of Change

123

Image 13  Medium and a priest during Jagra, Jubbal

Photo by Asaf Sharabi

This decline in local customs is not absolute and not the same everywhere. It is more evident in Himachal Pradesh than in Uttarakhand, and in regions such as Jubbal than in remote areas like Chirgaon. Even in regions like Jubbal, where this process is most evident, the locals still clearly feel obligated to participate, even partially, in traditional events. However, times are changing, and new obligations (work, education) are competing with traditional life. It is specifically the local Pahari traditions related to temples that are (more or less) waning in the Jubbal region. Modernized local fairs and panHindu traditions, however, are on the rise. The most celebrated modernized local fairs in the Jubbal region and nearby areas happen in Rampuri and Rohru. They are related to devtas (Shari Banar, Mahasu, Shikru), but not to specific temples. That is, the devtas are present at the fairs—and they do attract the enthusiastic attention of those in attendance—but there are also sports competitions, musical performances, and stalls selling food, clothing, and other products. They are not temple-based functions. These modernized festivals receive financial support from the state of Himachal Pradesh. They seem to have undergone a process similar to the one described by Daniela Berti concerning a case in Kullu valley: they have made the “passage from religious festival to cultural program.”10

10 Berti, 2011: 127.

124 

The Biogr aphy of a God

There is also growing interest in pan-Indian traditions. Holi, Diwali, and Dussehra are now being celebrated in Mahasu’s territory far more enthusiastically than they had been previously. Some of these changes occurred relatively recently. Ashtami (the eighth day of Navratri) in Hatkoti is a good example. When I started fieldwork in 2013 there was only a small function at Hatkoti village on that day. A few years later it became a big event. Moreover, previously only Ashtami was celebrated at Hatkoti temple, but now people gather there throughout Navratri. This tradition is now being followed in many villages in the Jubbal region, where temples of goddesses (Jaga Mata or Durga) are situated.11 Part of the growing interest in the pan-Indian tradition is connected to the politics of Hindutva, an extreme form of Hindu nationalism. In September 2019, the Nepali people who work in the Jubbal region celebrated the Teej festival in Jubbal stadium. When I talked to locals about it, some of them stressed that the Nepalis preserve Hinduism in its purest form. BJP supporters in particular mentioned it in a political context. For them, the dedication of the Nepalis to pan-Hindu festivals is something that needs to be emulated in India. India, they claimed, is wrongly bound up in a perception of secularism, which only benefits the Muslim population. Villagers’ growing interest in the pan-Indian tradition is clearly evident. People seem to be increasingly attached to the new traditions they have seen through the educational system, television, and Internet. A good example is the belief that animal sacrifice should be stopped. This is the subject of the next section.

From Carnivore to Vegetarian A frequent sight in Hanol is goats roaming in the temple courtyard. Goats also follow Chalda whenever he moves, and can be seen to a lesser extent in the temples of Maindrath (Bashik) and Thadiyar (Pabasi). These goats, called ghanduvas, are the property of the devtas. No one can harm them, let alone sacrifice them. Occasionally they are used as a means of communication with Mahasu. People choose this option when, for example, they wish to marry 11 “Jaga Mata” is an example of adaptation to pan-Indian traditions: “Jaga” corresponds with Hindi jagah (place), but traditionally does not refer to a mother goddess (Mata). A jaga is a village sanctuary for a divine female entity who is responsible for the fertility of the village area and who formerly inspired khund warriors during combat with warrior frenzy. See, for instance, in Bangan area, Zoller, 2007.

Local Tr aditions in Times of Change

125

Image 14  Ghanduvas at Hanol

Photo by Asaf Sharabi

or are planning to build a new house, and they want to know whether their wish will come true or their plan will be approved by Mahasu. The process, called ghanduva dhoon, is simple. The priest (pujari) sprinkles water and rice on the back of a ghanduva. If the goat shakes his back and the water and rice fall, then Mahasu’s answer is yes. Otherwise the answer is no. In ghanduva dhoon, goats serve as mediators between Mahasu and his followers. Goats can also serve as mediators in the form of sacrifice. This practice, called bali-pratha, is common throughout Mahasu’s territory and has also been reported in other parts of the Western Himalayas. Different deities have different diets—chicken, goats, sheep, or buffalo. The Mahasu brothers accept male goats (bakra) and male sheep (khadu). Before making the sacrifice, the priest sprinkles water and rice on the goat or male sheep’s back, just like in the ghanduva dhoom. The animal is then expected to shake its body, signifying that Mahasu accepts the bali. For some other deities, the villagers interpret the shaking of its body as the animal’s willingness to be sacrificed.12 Radhika Govindrajan makes a fascinating observation regarding this request for the animal’s consent. She maintains that it is part of a shared sense of kinship between the family that offers the sacrifice and the animal. It is a feeling that rests on a close relationship of care and supervision.13 In Mahasu’s case, however, the goats 12 Halperin, 2019: 172; Govindrajan, 2015; Sax, 2009: 70. 13 Govindrajan, 2015.

126 

The Biogr aphy of a God

and male sheep are in no position to indicate their will, and there is no need to obtain their agreement to be sacrificed. Instead, they shake their bodies as mediators, to show the willingness of the devta. There are several reasons bali-pratha is practiced in the Western Himalayas: to appease the gods, to receive something in return, to express faith (shraddha) in or devotion (bhakti) to the gods, to endow a person with the strength to fight demons, or to bring tranquility and peace (shanti) to the world.14 In the case of Mahasu, bali is offered on regular occasions, such as the Jagra, as well as at special events, for example the inauguration of a new temple.15 Bali can also be offered as a personal puja (worship) by an individual, usually after Mahasu fulfills their wishes. In this case, the bali is not a means to get something from Mahasu, but rather a way to demonstrate the worshipper’s gratitude. For the last fifteen years, bali has been the subject of ongoing public debate among villagers in Mahasu’s territory and in other parts of the Western Himalayas.16 One notable change in Mahasu’s territory is the growing phenomenon of vegetarianism among both locals and deities. This shift in the identity of the devtas is still ongoing; the last deity to take up vegetarianism was Bashik, who brought the custom of bringing sacrifices to an end in 2014. Four years earlier, Bolain (Bolāiṇ), the sister of the Mahasu brothers, had adopted vegetarianism.17 Prior to that, the tradition of bali was discontinued in Hanol’s major temple, where Botha sits. B.R. Sharma reports that bali was banned in May 2004, during the Khura Shanu festival held in Hanol.18 Several dozen devi-devta gathered at this shant festival and agreed to stop accepting bali. Despite this, it seems that the practice did not stop all at once, as my informants mentioned different years as the time when the practice 14 Elmore, 2016: 212–234; Halperin, 2019: 165–210; Sutherland, 2003 and 2006. 15 Very rarely, mass sacrifices were performed for Mahasu. One took place in 2001 in the village of Khashdhar, where a big celebration was held in honor of Mahasu. Some 3000 sheep were slaughtered during the festival to satisfy the devta, with people gathering from thirty-five surrounding villages, bringing sheep and their own local devta (Tribune News Service, 2001). Such mass slaughtering did not take place during the period of my fieldwork and probably will no longer happen. 16 See Elmore, 2016: 212–234. 17 Bolain has only one temple, in Thithrawali in Nerua tehsil of Shimla district. Apart from Bolain, other local deities are claimed to be Mahasu’s sisters—claims that are known and recognized mainly by the locals from that area. 18 Sharma, 2008: 212–215. See also the short report on this subject from The Tribune (2004): “The ninth century Mahasu temple in Hanol, Chakrata, is set to reverse its age-old custom of not allowing women to worship inside and sacrif icing animals. It is believed that the deity appeared in the dream of a devout and ordered him to permit the entry of women and stop sacrifices inside the temple.”

Local Tr aditions in Times of Change

127

came to an end. Most of them referred to 2007 as the year when the ritual of animal sacrifice ended in the Hanol temple courtyard. In other Botha temples, some people still bring sacrifices, while others do not; the situation varies from village to village and from region to region. Although bali was banned in Hanol, it is still customary for some locals to offer bali outside the temple courtyard in Hanol. This also holds true for other parts of Mahasu’s territory. As an old pujari in Sundli village noted: “[Botha] Mahasu does not like the sight of blood […] this is why they sometimes offer the bali outside. Otherwise it will cause misfortune (dosh) for them.” Among the four Mahasu brothers, the first to adopt vegetarianism was Pabasi, more than twenty years ago. The question of when Pabasi stopped accepting sacrifices is difficult to answer accurately, because there is no systematic documentation on the subject, and people have given me different accounts. In addition, it may be that even though Pabasi himself switched to a vegetarian menu, sacrifices were still offered near his temples for his birs (divine soldiers or ministers). Thus the interpretation of this practice can vary from person to person. Finally, the transition to a vegetarian diet may not have been synchronized in all of Pabasi’s temples; it took time to take hold completely. One way or another, local memory places the transition from a carnivorous to a vegetarian menu as early as the 1990s. Chalda is the only Mahasu brother who still receives sacrifices openly and in all the villages he visits. By so doing, along with his itinerant habits, he is preserving the Pahari tradition. During the pratishtha (inauguration ritual) of Chalda’s temple in Thadiyar on June 11, 2003, a bali was offered as a purification rite. The devtas who accepted bali—Chalda of Hanol, Chalda of Khashdhar, and Sherkulia of Fateh Parvat—remained inside the temple, while the devtas who did not accept bali—Pabasi and Sherkulia of Deoghar—were seated outside the temple.19 Bali is no longer practiced in Thadiyar, because Chalda gave the temple to Pabasi after the inauguration ritual. The changes in the system of bali have been accompanied by a shift at the theological level. Almost all the locals say that the bali is offered not to the devtas themselves, but rather to their birs. They explain that Mahasu deals with demons and ghosts; therefore, his birs must be satisfied, so they will be good warriors. This interesting theological solution is often put forward to resolve people’s ambivalence about the bali system. It places the devta’s bir in a mediatory category: to avoid offering an impure, non-Sanskritic

19 Bhatt, 2010: 208.

128 

The Biogr aphy of a God

oblation to Mahasu, they instead offer it to Mahasu’s bir.20 This solution preserves Pahari ritual traditions while simultaneously bringing them under the umbrella of Brahman epistemological lines of thought. To use Samkhya terminology, Mahasu’s puja is becoming more sattvic and less tamasic in nature; the food of the devta is becoming purified in accordance with the Brahmanical point of view. In other words, pan-Indian notions of divinity—in which vegetarianism is considered Sanskritic and essentially “better”—are penetrating the local society. An example of this theological solution comes from a conversation with a local Nath shopkeeper living in Hanol. When asked, he said that the bali could never be for Mahasu, only for his birs: There are three types of bir. Tamsic bir take bali. Sattvic bir do not need anything like that to be happy. Bali can be bakra (male goat) or khadu (male sheep)—but this is only for tamsic bir. Sattvic [bir] will take halva (dense sweet), rajasic will take chatni (sauce), cashew, peanuts and such […] but only the tamsic bir will take bali. Mahasu is a god—he is pure in mind so he has to be sattvic.

This example highlights the penetration not only of the different items used for the ritual (animal sacrifices versus other offerings), but also the use of theological terms taken from the Brahminic-Puranic tradition. It is important to note that this transition to a sattvic identity also moves Mahasu away from the normative raja-devta concept, since it identifies him with sattvic (Brahman) notions and removes him from the rajasic aspect of the Kshatriya-devta, the divine warrior-king. What are the arguments against bali? Primarily that it involves the taking of life. Some villagers regard this practice as cruel and inappropriate in today’s world. The reference point here is the Western world and its ethics, but there is also a comparison with Hinduism as it is practiced in the Indian plains. This is due to the influence of the media, the educational system, and popular religious movements such as the satsang of the Radha-Swami cult.21 20 See also Bhatt, 2010: 206. Some villagers still claim that Chalda Mahasu takes the bali for himself, although this view is not common at the official level of administration. 21 Radha Soami Satsang Beas (RSSB) is a philosophical organization based on spiritual teachings and dedicated to a process of inner development under the guidance of a spiritual teacher. RSSB was established in India in 1891 and gradually began spreading to other countries. This philosophy is based on a personal path of spiritual development which includes a vegetarian diet, abstinence from intoxicants, a moral way of life, and the practice of daily meditation. See Scialpi, 2020.

Local Tr aditions in Times of Change

129

Since more educated people and the younger generation are increasingly being exposed to modern, pan-Indian thought, these two groups tend to be more opposed to the practice of bali. It was interesting to hear compelling and empathetic arguments among some of the young and educated people about why previous generations sacrificed animals. Ravi, a young Brahmin from the village of Sundli, wanted to explain why, until his grandfather’s generation, everyone ate and sacrificed animals: People now understand that all Mahasu can’t be happy if something is getting killed for them. They (the villagers) used to eat only sheep. They raised only sheep and goats. What else can they eat? What can they give to the devta? Today we have apples to sell; we have everything we want to eat. People start to understand that now. But it takes time before it will disappear. Brahmins like us do not eat goat and sheep, but other people do.

Ravi makes a connection between the food of the people and the food of the gods. His message is that the power of tradition is very strong. He rationalizes the changing eating habits through the introduction of new food sources that have facilitated a theological change in notions of divinity. He also draws a “symbolic boundary” between Brahmins and the low-status castes, who still eat animals and are more likely to preserve the bali system.22 The shift towards ending the system of bali has met with some resistance. Living in a forest environment is a dangerous way of life; therefore, some argue, the bali system was (and perhaps is still) needed to protect the villagers from demons and ghosts. It also helps the devtas to fight the devil powers (sometimes by proxy through the birs). Others state that bali is a traditional custom, and there is no reason to change it. Finally, others argue that it is the will of the devtas to receive bali, and their followers should obey this ruling. Most of the population falls somewhere between rejecting the practice of bali and approving it. The notion that taking animal life is both problematic and also a tradition related to devtas that cannot easily be invalidated leads to ambivalent attitudes. This ambivalence toward the bali system can be vividly seen in the dilemma of a Rajput couple in Jahar village (pseudonym). The couple had tried to have children for many years without success. Since they were educated, working as teachers, and relatively well off, they endured 22 As Michele Lamont and Virag Molnar (2002) argue, symbolic boundaries are often used to enforce, maintain, normalize, or rationalize social boundaries.

130 

The Biogr aphy of a God

many expensive fertility treatments in Shimla. After almost losing hope, they finally turned to Mahasu for help. Eventually they had two children. In 2013, they organized a special ratri puja the night after the Jagra festival. The next day a puja was done by the local priest and then bali was offered to thank the devta for his help with their fertility problems. While most of the residents of the small village participated in the puja, only a few gathered to see the sacrifice of the goat, which was also conducted by one of the villagers rather than the priest. A few hours after the bali, a celebration was held for the whole village. Food (both vegetarian and non-vegetarian) was offered, and everyone sat together for a big meal. The non-vegetarian food served to the guests was goat meat from the bali. In this area, locals make a distinction between eating goat and eating chicken. Since they eat creatures like worms, eating chicken is considered a lesser practice in the hierarchy of food consumption. Therefore some people will eat the meat of goats and sheep but do not eat chicken or fish.23 Knowing that the wife was vegetarian, my two companions and I were curious about why the couple had sacrificed a goat. We asked them how they felt about the slaughter. Confused and embarrassed, they smiled and looked at the floor as they answered, talking together: “You see there is a struggle because of the bali-pratha. There are the Radha-swamis and gurus—they don’t believe in the system of bali-pratha […] they belong to Satsang […] you see in the villages there are many people who don’t believe in it, but we have to do it. We don’t want to, but we have to […] this is our tradition.” The couple were clearly facing a dilemma. On the one hand, some members of the community do not believe in offering sacrifices, and they themselves were also not really interested in doing it. On the other hand, they felt a need to offer bali because it is traditional. This story highlights the tension surrounding the change in ritual customs. Through exposure to pan-Indian notions of purity and ahimsa (nonviolence), Mahasu’s community is slowly changing its conception of divinity or what it considers to be proper religious behavior, applying the human actions of the followers (who are vegetarian) to the deity. This couple’s assertion, that “they have to” offer bali despite being vegetarian, points to the strength of Pahari tradition in Mahasu’s territory. Like many villages in the area, Jahar had people who opposed animal sacrifice, people who supported it, and those who were ambivalent. Despite the controversy, this event went smoothly and no protest was made by 23 A taboo on eating chicken is found not only in this area but also among Dardic people like the Kalasha. See Cacopardo, 2016: 48; Alaudin, 1992: 13.

Local Tr aditions in Times of Change

131

those who reject animal sacrifice. This is not always the case: the transition from eating meat to vegetarianism has led to disputes in some villages. One prominent case took place in Sari village (pseudonym). When Motilal, the pujari of Sari, was appointed to his position in 1990, he moved to Sari from his former home in the Chirgaon region. Motilal enjoys a great deal of prestige, not only because he belongs to a pujari family (his father was a pujari of Shiva in a village near Chirgaon), but also because of his personal achievements. He is a man of wide education, and has twice conducted pilgrimages to Kedarnath and Badrinath. A proponent of the “all-India tradition,” he ordered that bali should no longer be observed in the village—not in Botha’s temple nor in any other temples. His instructions faced no resistance from the locals until Chalda Mahasu arrived in Sari in November 2005, bringing with him several malis through whom he communicated with his devotees. Sari is one of the villages on Chalda’s route, and this time he stayed for one and a half years. Previously there had been a local mali of Mahasu in Sari, but he had lost his mali’s charisma. Thus, the arrival of malis from outside of Sari changed the balance of power in the village: until Chalda arrived with his malis the authority of the local pujari reigned supreme and the practice of bali was not observed. When Chalda arrived in Sari, however, he demanded bali via his malis. As a result, the village was torn between the ruling of the local pujari who forbade bali and the deity Chalda (speaking through his malis) who wanted to observe it. In this dispute, it was Chalda’s voice that ultimately prevailed. The practice was observed as long as Chalda remained in the village, and ended only when he departed. The quarrel was fierce, and it left a lasting impression that could still be felt when I first visited Sari in 2013. In 2017 the pujari left his office due to poor health and an ongoing dispute with some of the villagers about another issue. During my years of fieldwork, I talked with several locals and asked them about Chalda’s visit and the question of bali. The harshest criticism against the act of slaughtering animals was made by the pujari’s son, Vijay, who interpreted Chalda’s visit and the rituals connected to his presence as the reason why bad things were happening in the village: Seven people of this village died in that year. And we have the main economic system of apples, and the apples were damaged. It was very bad in that specific year. […] When Chalda was here they sacrificed goats and young goats. They did it five times a day. This creates bad atmosphere and bad energies. Death comes inside the place. Wherever there is bali, things can’t work right.

132 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Vijay believes that the devta “is merciful and kind” and that the “system is corrupt and abusive. It takes the people’s property and uses their belief.” He believes bali is the worst aspect of the system today: “Devta is not cruel. But the system of devta likes mali—they are very corrupted these people. They have also exploited the people who came here. So mali told us that I want this bali. If the devta has taken that bali, then devta can take it by himself! Why with ourselves? Why are we involved in that?” According to Vijay the answer to his question is very simple: the system of bali is a false system, mediated by false malis. He argued that “education influences awareness, times are changing, this is why the young people don’t accept the old system.” This is why he associated the bali system with backwardness.24 Another group of villagers supported the tradition of bali. One of them explained the importance of bali for Chalda specifically: His brothers stay at one place. They don’t move. But Chalda Mahasu is always on a journey. He has to cross mountains and rivers from one place to other. And there are different types of powers. There are daivik (relating to the gods) powers and ghosts. He has to move from one place to another around the clock, always on a journey. And during this journey he has to face the circumstances of the ghosts. And the ghost takes bali. If Chalda Mahasu doesn’t offer bali to them, then he cannot move.

His words reflect the need to continue the tradition of offering sacrifices as part of Chalda’s customary roaming. He also maintained that there should be a comprehensive and all-inclusive decision about the practice, not one that applies to just one village: “Either the bali should stop in the entire area. Until [it is stopped] in the entire area we are not stopping it, it will be useless. Some will have bali and some won’t. It should be stopped at the same time in the entire area then we will be ready. And the opinion of the devta is to be taken.” This statement can be understood as an all-encompassing comment on the function of the mali. After all, one deity cannot sanction specific behavior in one village but forbid it in another. Since the devta’s words are unchanging, the malis through whom he speaks must also speak with one voice. As demonstrated by Cornelia Mallebrein in her study in the Indian state of Odisha, a decline in the tradition of animal sacrifice may also present a 24 For other cases associating sacrifices with backwardness, see also Elmore, 2016: 212–234; Halperin, 2019: 165–210; Mallebrein, 2007.

Local Tr aditions in Times of Change

133

Image 15  A priest sprinkles water and rice on a goat before it is slaughtered

Photo by Asaf Sharabi

challenge to the role of the medium as a representative of the deity, because modernization and “Hinduization” can affect both these phenomena.25 In the case of Sari village, the dispute and tensions surrounding the necessity of adopting a new custom that goes against local tradition have found expression in the complex relationship between the malis and the pujari. The pujari’s power to enforce his opinion is limited because he is not the channel through which the deity directly expresses his views. Therefore, although he was able to halt the practice of bali for several years, the authority of Chalda’s malis prevailed over the pujari’s influence on this issue. The public debate over the bali system is not merely a theological or cultural discussion, as I presented in Jahar and Sari village cases: it is also accompanied by legal discourse. In September 2014, the High Court of Himachal Pradesh banned bali. The situation is somewhat different in Uttarakhand, where in 2011 the High Court ruled that bali can be conducted only on animals that are eaten after the sacrifice. It also ruled that animals could no longer be sacrificed in the courtyards of temples, only in enclosed structures. As Radhika Govindrajan points out, this court ruling has been 25 Mallebrein, 2014.

134 

The Biogr aphy of a God

interpreted by animal rights groups as completely eliminating the system of bali. These groups “visited temples across the region to let people know that sacrifice was illegal As a result, while everyday forms of sacrifice went on unhindered, the number of animals brought to temples on festival days declined.”26 The villagers in the territory of Mahasu in Himachal Pradesh and Uttarakhand think of themselves as people living in isolated regions. The high mountains, tangled forests, and winding roads are the reasons they offer bali to the devtas out of fear of evil forces. The same harsh living conditions also serve as a shield against outsiders, including law enforcement authorities. Therefore, despite Himachal Pradesh’s prohibition of the bali system, the practice continues. The changes in the bali system in Mahasu’s territory are linked in part to pan-Indian tendencies, to the modern ideas and habits that make up daily life, and, to a lesser degree, to the fear of law enforcement. The division between the two f irst reasons is hard to establish, since it is impossible to determine whether bali was banned because of the satsang’s activity (and propagation of ahimsa) in the area or because of the penetration of modern Western ideas that connect animal sacrif ice with backwardness. The community itself offers both explanations when they discuss the decline of traditions—but they also stress that it is also the will of Mahasu. Interestingly, there are places in the Western Himalaya where the debate over the bali system has also been influenced by tourists, both Indian and foreign. Such is the case with Hadimba (Haḍimbā), a well-known goddess in Kullu valley. As Ehud Halperin reports, middle-class tourists have criticized the tradition of giving sacrifices to Hadimba.27 However, in Mahasu’s territory there are no foreign and almost no Indian tourists, so the debate over bali is an internal discourse conducted between the villagers. Objections to bali have entered the area mainly through conversations with Hindus encountered outside of Mahasu’s territory, Internet websites, TV programs, books, and animal rights activists. *** Studies from the Himalayas are joined by other studies from throughout India that deal with transformations in the identity of the gods due to 26 Govindrajan, 2015: 509. 27 Halperin, 2019.

Local Tr aditions in Times of Change

135

Sanskritization, modernization, and even gentrification.28 This process can be complex; as Ehud Halperin noted regarding Hadimba, “the goddess serves as a conceptual arena for her devotees for reflecting on their own selfperception and sense of belonging and for finding a place for themselves in the larger Hindu and Indian world.”29 Mahasu presents a similar process, but with one notable distinction: Mahasu is four brothers, not a single deity, and each brother represents different degrees of change in the notion of divinity. In practical terms, this manifests in the different Mahasu brothers’ attitudes towards, for example, bali. This allows the Mahasu’s followers to identify with the notion of divinity with which they most strongly agree—from a Pahari style like that of Chalda to the more pan-Hindu style of Pabasi. Botha lies somewhere in between, allowing each village and each region to decide what is best for them. Another Pahari custom that is practiced differently among the Mahasu brothers is the movement of the devtas through space. This practice is also changing in the twenty-first century, as I discuss in the next section.

When Gods Settle Down The royal devtas in the Western Himalayas practice several types of movement, both within and beyond their territories: they follow a routine of moving between several villages or regions; they meet with other devtas on occasions such as festivals and the inauguration of new temples (pratishtha); and they visit villagers at their homes when they are invited for a few nights (ratri puja). As discussed earlier, not all the Mahasu brothers routinely move between different villages or regions. Botha (literally “seated”), who injured his knee according to the katha, sits permanently in Hanol. The other three Mahasu brothers have different routine movements, which have changed somewhat in recent years. Traditionally, Bashik moves between four villages in the Bawar region: Hanol, Rahru, Kuna, and Bagi, spending one year in each. This custom is probably old, dating back at least to the early twentieth century; Herbert Emerson reports in his unpublished manuscript that Bashik “visits in 28 Examples of studies from the Himalayas include: Berreman, 1963; Halperin, 2019; Levenstam, 2013; Shalev and Sharabi, 2018; Sax, 2006. Examples of studies from other parts of India include: Flueckiger, 2015; Foulston, 2002; Mallebrein, 2007, 2014; Waghorne, 2001. 29 Halperin, 2019: 157. Halperin focuses on the mythological level, demonstrating how a variety of narratives relate her to the Mahabharata or to demonic sources of the goddess.

136 

The Biogr aphy of a God

successive years the four main centers of his worship.”30 Emerson does not mention these centers by name, so we can only assume that Bashik’s four places of residence have not changed over the years. On the twentieth of every month of Jeth (May–June), Bashik used to travel to Kemala, a forested area between the villages of Bagi and Kuna where his followers celebrated the Jakholi fair. Like many fairs, Jakholi is not just a religious ceremony, but also an opportunity for celebration for Bashik’s followers, who come from several villages, mainly in the Bawar region.31 In recent years there have been changes in Bashik’s movements. Since 2007, he has been based in Maindrath full-time. He still observes the Jakholi fair, but instead of going to Kemala, he spends those few days in one of the four villages he used to visit for a year at a time. Thus, the Jakholi fair in 2013 was held in Kuna, in 2014 it was celebrated in Bagi, and in 2015 it took place in Hanol. One prominent exception to this new movement pattern is the pilgrimage he took to Kedarnath in April–May 2018. Pabasi’s movements have also changed over the years. Emerson reports that Pabasi has “six country seats,” but again he doesn’t mention them by name. Now there are only three main seats, which are three patti (regions) in the Bangan region: Kotigar, Pingal, and Masmur. Until 2003, Pabasi followed a fixed itinerant path between these regions. He would stay one year in each patti, usually in Chiwan, Bothanu, and Bamsu villages (respectively). Pabasi also used to visit other regions, but only rarely.32 Each year Pabasi also visited a village called Devti, from where he continued on to Devban, a sacred grove in the forest where he usually remained for three days in the month of Jeth.33 His journey to Devban is construed as a pilgrimage, since the grove is considered a holy site. Like the Jakholi fair, the pilgrimage to Devban is a celebration for Pabasi’s followers, mainly those from the Bangan region. Pabasi’s movements changed in 2003 when he established a permanent seat in Thadiyar village. Like Bashik, Pabasi rarely moved from his central temple, except for visiting Devban every year. In 2016, Pabasi started traveling again between the three Bangan pattis, although he no longer remains in each patti for a whole year. Instead, he spends approximately 30 Emerson, Mss.Eur.E.321, chapter 4, 10. 31 See also Bhatt, 2010: 183–184. 32 For example, he visited Khashdhar (Chirgaon tehsil) in 1972 and again in 2014. Visiting the Khashdhar area may have been part of his regular movements in the early twentieth century. 33 Devti and Devban are considered territories of the three pattis.

Local Tr aditions in Times of Change

137

half a year in Thadiyar, and the rest of the year he visits one of his three pattis as well as Devti and Devban. Thadiyar therefore remains his most important seat. These changes in the movements of Bashik and Pabasi are related to socioeconomic changes in Mahasu’s territory. While the economy was formerly based on agro-pastoralism for domestic consumption, now some villagers work or study outside their village. Some locals claim that they consequently have less time for the devtas. A young man in Chiwan elaborated on the issue of Pabasi staying in Thadiyar: “That is a new ritual. Because of the terms of the economy [and] changes [in] society that people are busy. They cannot carry devta from one place to another place, every one year [or] six months. Everybody is busy with their jobs.” When the devta moves from place to place, he must be accompanied by villagers, musicians, and other members of his entourage. As the young man from Chiwan explained, people are now too busy and are therefore reluctant to participate in these movements. “People don’t have time for devtas now,” I was frequently told. A member of the family of the wazir (head of the administration) of pashi admitted to me in 2014 that “now people don’t take an interest in Pabasi.” I think this is too harsh a statement, but it is true that a certain lack of enthusiasm about the devtas could be sensed among some locals. Perhaps this is the reason Thadiyar and Maindrath were chosen as the permanent seats of the devtas: like Hanol, they are both near a main road. Unlike when they stay in distant villages, the two devtas are now easier to visit and therefore more accessible to their devotees. As the wazir of shathi once told me, “In Maindrath there are better facilities for the visitors.” Thadiyar and Maindrath are also more accessible to the officeholders (pujaris, bhandaris, thanis) who follow the devtas to fulfill their duties. It seems that Thadiyar and Maindrath were carefully selected as the two brothers’ “home bases.” Maindrath is a central village in local mythology. As the katha relates, Maindrath was the home of Huna Bhat, the Brahmin who originally invited the four Mahasu brothers to the area from Kashmir. According to the katha, Maindrath was where the Mahasu brothers emerged from the ground. Most importantly, Maindrath is located very near (about 5 kilometers, or 3 miles) the religious center of Hanol, on the Tyuni-Hanol road. Visitors to Hanol can park their cars nearby and visit Bashik’s temple. Thadiyar, the seat of Pabasi, is perhaps the opposite of Maindrath. Until recently, Thadiyar did not feature prominently in the Mahasu belief system, as it was not on Pabasi’s route and did not have a temple to Mahasu. The current importance of Thadiyar is primarily due to its strategic location—a

138 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Image 16  The bridge near Thadiyar, where Chalda crosses once every twelve years

Photo by Asaf Sharabi

distance of about 3 kilometers from Hanol, near the opposite bank of the Tons River. The bridge near Thadiyar is the one Chalda crosses once every twelve years when he moves between pashi and shathi. When I first visited Thadiyar in 2013, the short but thrilling journey from Hanol included crossing a bridge over the Tons River and a fifteen-minute walk in a forest. A few years later, a proper road was built, which has made it easier but less exciting to visit the temple. It was Thadiyar’s strategic location that convinced Chalda to establish a large temple there, to compete with the one in Hanol. At the time, a dispute was developing in Hanol over matters of control between the management (wazir and pujari) of pashi (representing Pabasi) and those of shathi (representing Bashik). It was claimed that Mahasu’s bank account was controlled only by shathi’s wazir.34 Consequently, when Chalda was roaming in pashi in 2000, he suddenly cut short his regular rotation, and instead headed to Thadiyar to establish a temple, because of the mismanagement of finances in Hanol. The foundation of the temple was laid on February 10, 2000, and following completion of the building, the consecration ceremony 34 Bhatt, 2010: 380.

Local Tr aditions in Times of Change

139

(pratishtha) was held on June 11, 2003. As is common for consecration rituals, some devtas came to honor the event, among them Pabasi with his palki and Botha with his doria (silver bowl) from Hanol. However, Bashik and the wazir of shathi refused to attend.35 After the temple was completed, Chalda presented it to Pabasi, and it became his permanent location, while Chalda continued to roam in pashi. The grounding of Bashik and (to a lesser degree) Pabasi means that (including Botha) three Mahasu brothers now mostly remain in one place rather than travel. Botha stays in Hanol, Bashik in Maindrath, and Pabasi in Thadiyar. These three villages are very close to each other, adjacent to the Tons River. It is only the youngest brother, Chalda, who continues his itinerant journeys around his brothers’ territories, thus preserving the Pahari custom. This change in the movements of Pabasi and Bashik has resulted in two new main temples in addition to the central temple in Hanol. The main temple in Hanol is a temple for all four Mahasu brothers, and it does indeed hold the idols (murti) of all four of them. However, Hanol is regarded as the permanent site of Botha, so the temple is perceived first and foremost as the temple of Botha. For example, when villagers come to speak with Mahasu in Hanol, they usually talk with Botha through his mediums (malis). The sociologist G.S. Bhatt visited Hanol for the first time in 1953. He described it then as a small, sleepy village.36 When I first visited Hanol in 2013, it had not changed much. There were a few tiny shops (serving basic food) on a narrow road adjacent to the temple courtyard. There was not much space to park, and accommodation was sparse. However, in recent years, more and more pilgrims and tourists are visiting Hanol, and the village has developed accordingly. In 2017, a new parking lot was built to accommodate many more visitors. In the courtyard, near the main temple, a few small buildings are reserved for Mahasu’s management and equipment. There is also a small shrine to Kali and a shelter for Chalda, who stays there overnight when he moves from shathi to pashi. The temple itself, like all of Mahasu’s and other devtas’ temples in the Western Himalayas, is constructed in the pagoda style.37 The temple has four chambers, arranged in a straight line. The first is the entrance chamber, 35 Bhatt, 2010: 193–198. 36 Bhatt, 2010. 37 According to some writers, the architecture of the temples of Mahasu and other deities in the region bear an indication of Buddhist influence (Handa, 2001: 302–303; Utter, 2010: 82–85). However, there is disagreement about the form of Buddhism that has influenced the Mahasu cult: O.C. Handa claims that it is Vajrayana, while Hans Utter claims it is Mahayana.

140 

The Biogr aphy of a God

while the second is the assembly hall.38 This is where the followers of Mahasu sit and receive rice and a tilak (a mark on the forehead) from the priests (pujaris) or their assistants (thanis), who can be found at the entrance to the third chamber. The door between the second and third chambers is known as chandipol (silver door), and only kardars (temple management) on duty can enter. The fourth chamber, the sanctum sanctorum, is behind a door known as kalipol (black door), and only the pujari on duty is permitted to enter. The idols of the Mahasu brothers are located in this small chamber. During the month between Jagra (a local annual festival) and Dussehra (a major Hindu festival), the kalipol is open and devotees can sit in the second chamber and see Mahasu (take darshan). The images (murti) in the fourth chamber are seated in a row, in the following order (from left to right): Bashik, Pabasi, Botha, and Chalda. The murtis are the faces of Mahasu’s brothers, without their bodies. The sizes of the murtis vary: Botha’s is the smallest and Chalda’s is the biggest, while Bashik’s is bigger than Pabasi’s. Botha’s murti is very small; I could not see it from a distance in the dim lighting, but I was told by the kardars (management) of Hanol that Botha is seated in the lap of Kailu (Botha’s bir), who I could see clearly between Pabasi and Chalda. To the left of the four murtis of the Mahasu brothers is the murti of Botha’s wife Natari (Naṭārī), as well as some of Mahasu’s objects, such as dorias (bowls) and swords.39 Traditionally only males of high-status castes (Brahmin and Rajput) were permitted to enter the second chamber. Women of high castes and members of artisan castes were permitted to enter the first chamber, while low-status castes (both males and females) were not permitted to enter the temple at all. Due to its fame and antiquity, the temple of Hanol is now under the supervision of the government of Uttarakhand. Therefore, in 38 It contains four miniature temples, symbolizing four of Mahasu’s birs. 39 Bhatt (2010: 217) gives a different order (from left to right): Chalda, Pabasi, Botha, and Bashik. He also mentions that two birs (Sherkulia and Kailu) are present, as well as the wives of each of Mahasu’s brothers (except for Chalda, who has two). There could be two reasons for the gap between Bhatt’s account and what I saw in the temple. First, it is possible that Bhatt did not see the murtis with his own eyes and instead relied on informants. From my own experience, the locals do not always know exactly which murtis are present in the temple in which order. This may be because the sanctum sanctorum is only open for one month a year, and only some villagers take the opportunity to see the murtis for themselves during this time. Second, Bhatt’s information was collated between 1953 and 2003, and there is no way of knowing the date of this specific information. Perhaps the identity of the murtis and their order changed over time. However, the pujaris in Hanol claim that nothing has changed over the years.

Local Tr aditions in Times of Change

141

principle anyone can now enter the temple (up to the assembly hall in the second chamber), regardless of caste or gender. In other Mahasu temples, still only high-status caste males are allowed to enter. A lot goes on in the Hanol temple courtyard. During rush hours (from late morning until afternoon), the place is a jumble of visitors, managers, mediums, and goats. During each visit to Hanol, I felt I could spend hours just watching the people and the rituals. Here a family is speaking with (Botha) Mahasu through a medium; there a family is entering the temple and ringing the bells dangling from the ceiling; in the background some priests lean against a wall, chatting, while a pack of lively children run around everywhere. Goats roam uninterrupted, and a few men try to lift two ancient, heavy stones—a well-known Hanol custom. Compared to the temple at Hanol, the temples in Thadiyar and Maindrath are small. They each contain two main chambers, the assembly chamber and the sanctorum chamber, where the idols are located. In contrast to Botha, Bashik resides in his palanquin (as do Pabasi and Chalda). From Jagra to Dussehra, he (and Pabasi and Chalda) emerges from his palanquin in a process called gachi phona (to loosen the belt). Only during this period (approximately one month) can devotees see his murti in the temple. When I visited the temple in Maindrath during that period, I noticed Bashik’s murti in the sanctum of the temple, and below it was the murti of Jakh, a bir of Bashik. This is somewhat surprising because Kapla is considered the main bir of Bashik. He is one of the four birs who came from Kashmir along with the Mahasu brothers. At the side of the sanctum was the murti of Bashik’s wife Natari. In the rear of the shrine was a murti of Deolari, the Mahasu brothers’ mother. The temple in Thadiyar contains murtis of Pabasi, his wife Rushari, and his bir Gudaru. As with his other brothers, I was able to see the murtis only during the period between the Jagra and Dussehra festivals. The identity of the bir is interesting. Pabasi has two main birs, Gudaru and Kailath. According to the katha, it was Kailath who came from Kashmir with the Mahasu brothers, so most people refer to Kailath as the main bir. The temples in Thadiyar and Maindrath are less crowded than the Hanol temple and there is usually less happening. For example, in Hanol I could often see mediums in action, while in Thadiyar and Maindrath such events occurred much less frequently. Chalda has no main temple because he is always on the move. Moreover, since his cyclical rotation between villages is so long, lasting at least twentyfour years, he sometimes arrives in a village where the temple has become obsolete. On such an occasion, he stays in one of the village houses, while

142 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Image 17  Pabasi’s temple at Thadiyar

Photo by Asaf Sharabi

waiting for the villagers to rebuild his old temple or construct a new one. Either way, in the sanctum of the temple (or the room of the house where he is staying), the image (murti) of Chalda stands high. Below it is the murti of Huna Bhat, the Brahmin from the katha who brought Mahasu’s brothers from Kashmir to their current territory. It is interesting that, out of the four brothers, only Chalda is connected in this way to the main myth of Mahasu. The other murtis placed near Chalda are his two wives, Natari and Ulka (Ulkā). According to legend, the latter was Banar’s wife, and Chalda took her much to Banar’s chagrin. Wherever Chalda resides tends to experience a similar level of activity to the temple in Hanol, rather than the lower tempo experienced at Thadiyar and Maindrath. Chalda breathes life into the villages he visits. Crowds of people come to see him, and the events surrounding him are highly intense. During my fieldwork, he was roaming between villages in Uttarakhand. Some of them, like Janog, are far even from the central Bawar region in Uttarakhand. Despite the distance, worshippers came to visit him from all over Mahasu’s territory. Although Chalda preserves the old custom of journeying between villages and regions, he has also exhibited some changes in recent tours.

Local Tr aditions in Times of Change

143

According to local tradition, Chalda is meant to remain for twelve years in shathi and twelve years in pashi. It is unclear how long this tradition has been followed, as there is no systematic documentation regarding Chalda’s movements and the social memory of the locals is limited. I was unable to trace Chalda’s exact journey, village by village, before the 1970s. However, from the information I gathered—especially from the wazirs of shathi and pashi—it seems that Chalda has indeed maintained a traditional route in recent decades. In pashi, Chalda starts his tour in the Bangan region. From there he moves north until he reaches Khashdhar, then he moves west to the Jubbal region. He then returns to Bangan on his way to shathi. In shathi, Chalda moves west until he reaches Tharoach village in Himachal Pradesh. He then moves east to Uttarakhand and then south until he reaches the southernmost point of his journey, Udapalta village. He then moves back north to Hanol, from where he enters pashi again. During my fieldwork, I traced Chalda’s movement in shathi. He entered shathi in December 2012 and spent two years in Koti. In 2013, I met a pujari of Chalda in Koti who told me the names of the villages where Chalda would stay on his current tour of shathi. This was almost the same as the list of villages I acquired a year later in 2014 in Bastil (the wazir’s home village) and from the wazir himself when I met him in Koti-Kanasar in 2019. The following is the list of villages I obtained from the wazir (Chalda spends one year in each village unless mentioned otherwise): Koti (two years), Mandhol, Thangar, Janog, Tharoach, Koti-Kanasar, Mohana, Samarta-Udapalta, HajaDesau (two years), Mashak (six months), and Koti (six months). This makes a total of twelve years in shathi. Until 2020, Chalda appeared to be following this “traditional” route. After leaving Koti, he spent two years in each of the following villages: Mandhol, Thangar, Janog, Tharoach, and Koti-Kanasar. In late 2019, Chalda moved to Mohna, where he should have stayed for one year, but in late 2020, it was decided that due to the coronavirus pandemic he should remain in Mohna for another year. He finally went to Udapalta in November 2021. But how traditional is this traditional tour? Interestingly, I discovered that on his previous tour, Chalda had spent fifteen years in shathi rather than twelve, and he did not follow what is supposedly his traditional length of stay in each place. Chalda entered shathi in December 1978 and left in December 1993, staying in the following villages (one year in each unless otherwise mentioned): Koti, Kistur, Koti-Kanasar, Mohna, Udapalta (six months), Haja-Desau (two and a half years), Mashak, Koti-Kanasar, Janog, Thangar, Mandhol, Rahru (six months), Tharoach (six months), Sansog, and Koti. The difference between this last tour in shathi and Chalda’s

144 

The Biogr aphy of a God

“traditional” tour is not only that he spent more than twelve years in shathi, some of it in new villages, but also that his journey took a different path. While in the current “traditional” tour he traveled between villages in Himachal Pradesh (like Thangar and Tharoach) first, in his previous tour he left this area to the end. Thus, instead of going west and then south, he traveled south, returned north, and then went west to the villages in Himachal Pradesh. After completing his fifteen-year tour in shathi, Chalda entered pashi in December 1993. He spent more than twelve years there as well: it was only after nineteen years, in December 2012, that he left pashi. His movements during this last tour in pashi were as follows (spending one year in each village unless mentioned otherwise): Bhutanu, Chiwan, Bamsu, Bhirti (three years), Thadiyar (four years), Khashdhar (two years), Dhar (one and a half years), Badhal (six months), and Saraji (five years). This was the first time Chalda had stayed in the villages of Thadiyar and Saraji. This in itself is not unusual, since he is a wandering devta. However, he spent four years in Thadiyar (1999–2003) and five years in Saraji (2007–2012), as well as spending three years in Bhirti. This is curious behavior because Chalda usually stays in one place for no more than two years. In Thadiyar and Saraji, part of the reason for his extended stay was the construction of new temples. *** It seems that Chalda made several deviations from his routine movement during his last tours in shathi and pashi, including: spending more than twelve years in each region, remaining in one village for more than two years, and moving in the opposite direction to usual in shathi. Who is responsible for these deviations—the villagers? Chalda’s administration? Or, perhaps, Chalda himself? The same questions apply to the grounding of Bashik and Pabasi? It is on this issue of agency that I elaborate in the next section.

Mahasu’s Agency When I returned to the research field in 2014, I wanted to locate Chalda. A year earlier I had visited him in Koti, but the people in Jubbal were not certain where he had gone after that. Phone calls were made, text messages were sent, and it finally transpired that Chalda had stayed in Koti for another year. The question that arises is: Who made this decision? Was it those who administer to the deity? The head of the administration? The people of

Local Tr aditions in Times of Change

145

Koti? None of these options actually mention the deity by name. The local population clearly places great weight on the ability of the deities to make independent decisions and influence their lives. In other words, the locals believe that the deities have agency. What can an anthropological analysis contribute to our understanding of how agency is attributed to deities? While believers see gods as autonomous entities responsible for both their own fate and that of humans, many ethnographers are in a quandary about the actual existence of the gods. In many ethnographies, deities and spirits are seen as reflecting social constructs, symbolizing power relations, or serving as a resource for individuals. 40 In such analyses, the question of deities’ agency becomes less relevant, is regarded as nonexistent, or becomes a source of ontological perplexity. Is it possible to bridge these two points of view—that of the locals and that of the anthropologists? Until the 1990s, the term “agency” was usually linked to how individuals realized their desires within a social structure. 41 Research focused in particular on how marginal people coped with social oppression or social structures, and thus agency came to be linked to resistance or free will. 42 However, the concept of agency has evolved over the last two decades and now indicates the ability to act in the world. 43 Some researchers even go beyond what Saba Mahmood defined as the “capacity for action,” extending it to the capacity for effecting change in the world. 44 Thus, for example, Julia Cassaniti writes that “(a)gency is what makes change; it is the ability to make things happen.”45 This current understanding of agency is not limited to individuals in a society. 46 Indeed, the concept of agency is now applied to groups, organizations, and non-human entities. 47 Moreover, some scholars have used the concept of “distributed agency” to describe 40 See, for example, Hocart, 1970; Lewis, 1971; Taussig, 1980; Turner, 1968. 41 See, for example, Giddens, 1979; Bourdieu, 1977. 42 Ahearn, 2010; Sax, 2009. 43 Thus, for example, Ahearn (2010: 28) defines agency as “the socioculturally mediated capacity to act,” and Mahmood (2001: 203) views it as “capacity for action.” 44 Mahmood, 2001: 203. 45 Cassaniti, 2012: 303. Also see Sax (2009: 94), who defines agency as “the capacity to effect changes in the external world.” 46 Wertsch, Tulviste, and Hagstrom, 1993. Some even view the individual concept of agency as an ethnocentric perception: see Sax, 2009: 132. 47 For example, we find agency in non-human primates (Small, 1993); machines (Pickering, 1995); technologies (Dobres, 2000); signs (Colapietro, 1989: 95–97; Kockelman, 2007); sacred objects (Halperin, 2016; Keane, 2014), and spirits (Espírito Santo and Blanes, 2014; Keane, 1997, 64–66).

146 

The Biogr aphy of a God

the idea that agency can be divided and shared among multiple people and entities. 48 Setting aside the ontological arguments about the existence of deities in favor of examining the effect they have on society, it is clear that deities do have the ability to act and influence the world: in other words, deities have agency. Indeed, several ethnographies have dealt with deities’ agency, showing how it is connected to individuals or society. 49 The work of Diane Mines, who conducted research in southern India, is of particular interest in this regard. Mines links the low-status caste of the villagers to the “fierce gods,” which “through their socially disordering powers, allow subordinate groups and persons to publicly turn the tables on domination and assert their own powerful alternatives of village relations.”50 According to Mines, “the gods are real powers contiguous with humans, powers that make humans into powerful agents with the capacity to potentially restructure the system of conventional rankings that may exist at any given moment.”51 Ethnographers of Hinduism in the Western and Central Himalayas have described the agency of local deities in a variety of ways: deities are social actors, social agents, collective agents, and complex agents.52 What is common to these and other writers is that they see the deities as representing the intention of the communities, their identities, and their power. In this section I also discuss the active role of godly agency in the religious life of believers. My contribution to this discussion is a thorough analysis of how the locals understand their own role in the decisions made by the deities. Local deities in the Western Himalayas play an active role in socio-political issues, especially in times of change, through both human mediums and objects. From the point of view of the villagers, local deities have the ability to make decisions that impact reality. At the same time, the locals (at least 48 Enfield and Kockelman, 2017; Sax, 2009. 49 Cassaniti (2012) examines groups of Buddhists and Christians in northern Thailand and shows how they have different concepts of agency. Members of the Buddhist community viewed agency as internal, so the concept of “belief” was not relevant for them. By contrast, “[t]o practice agency in the Christian community—that is, to achieve the capacity to act—one typically draws on a belief in the external power of God” (Cassaniti, 2012: 311–312). In other words, Cassaniti argues that the agency of the individual is produced by making the deity’s agency present through belief. Miyazaki (2000) also deals with the issue of agency in his research with Christians in Fiji. He argues that the subjects of his research deal with the experience of having their agency limited by God, in what he calls “abeyance of agency.” For other studies in which the agency of deities is considered important for understanding religious life, see Huang, 2017; Wellens, 2017. 50 Mines, 2005: 5. 51 Mines, 2005: 144. 52 Berti, 2009; Sax, 2009; Ohri, 2019; and Halperin, 2019, respectively. See also Sutherland, 2006.

Local Tr aditions in Times of Change

147

most of them) claim that one way or another, society itself is a factor in the decisions and actions of the deities. Thus, I maintain that the villagers are aware that they play a part in the gods’ agency. To explore how the local people view godly agency, I focused on Mahasu’s roaming practice, asking: Who makes the decisions regarding the Mahasu brothers’ travels, where they travel to, and when; and who makes the decisions that change this practice? This is especially interesting in the case of Chalda, the youngest of the Mahasu brothers. Because Chalda is considered a capricious god, the agency attributed to him is essential to his identity as a deity. Chalda has an especially large territory that he shares with his brother Botha. Their shared territory also includes the territories of the other two brothers, Bashik and Pabasi. While Botha can always be found in the central temple in Hanol, Chalda wanders between different regions and villages. According to local tradition, Chalda is meant to spend twelve years in shathi (Bashik’s region) and twelve in pashi (Pabasi’s region). But in practice, as shown in the previous section, on his last two tours Chalda spent more than twelve years in both pashi and shathi. How do the locals interpret Chalda’s movements? Do they think Chalda decides for himself? For example, when Chalda spent two years in Koti, was it his decision or the decision of his administration? When I asked Rajat, a local medium, why Chalda had remained in pashi for nineteen years and not twelve, he replied: “It all depends on what he wants. If he wants to remain here longer, he does so. Chalda goes wherever and whenever he wants. He could go to Delhi if he wanted to. So, it is all up to him.” Rajat’s explanation exemplifies the traditional perception of Chalda, and perhaps of all devtas: they alone decide how to operate in the world. Chalda is regarded as a deity who can swiftly change his mind, one who rebels against anyone who thinks they can tame him. Umesh, an owner of a private school, said: Chalda is just like a ziddi (a stubborn person). He is also moody. If today he is in Koti, tomorrow he might say that he wants to go to Khashdhar. And that will be his final decision. If he doesn’t want to move anywhere, he can stay in the same place even for two years. And his mood can suddenly change overnight and then he’ll say, “I want to go to Dhar, or Saraji, or Khashdhar.” Everything depends upon his mood.

In this interpretation, Chalda’s mood swings and spiteful tendencies render him completely unpredictable. Chalda has agency not only because he has the capacity to act and even bring about change, but also because there is

148 

The Biogr aphy of a God

intentionality in his agency. Chalda therefore presents what Sherry Ortner calls a “hard conception of agency.”53 That is, an agency with a component of intentionality. When I first undertook fieldwork in the region, many people described Chalda to me in this way. This could be called “the showcase version.” However, the extended period of my research revealed other interpretations of Chalda’s agency in particular, and the agency of devtas in general. For example, Sandeep, a young Brahmin from Dhar village, explained why Chalda visits some villages and not others, and does not follow a regular schedule: The old custom is that Chalda maharaj (the great king) went to particular places which he had chosen. Then the decision was already made that he would come to Dhar, then afterwards to Badhal, etc. But it also depends on the situation: what the devtas said, or the people’s politics. The people make their politics and according to that they (the people) decide when he (Chalda) had to come here (to Dhar).

Sandeep explains that Chalda does maintain some semblance of routine in his journeys, including visiting certain villages in a predictable cycle. However, the identity of the specific villages is not set in stone; there is room for the internal politics of the local populace. According to Sandeep, the agency is shared by the deity, who chooses to visit specific villages (which, over time, become traditional and “old custom”), and the people and their politics. Moreover, one can argue that the agency of the deity is diluted to a large extent by the agency of the tradition. Similar statements can be made in reference to the journeys of Chalda’s brothers, Bashik and Pabasi. These two devtas have recently “grounded” themselves in certain locations—and the local devotees were a factor in the deities’ decisions. Thus, when I asked how it was decided that Bashik should remain in one place, a pujari (priest) of Chalda explained, “Devta decided. After taking advice from different people, devta decided that it is the best choice for everyone.” The deity, then, consults with others to obtain different opinions before making a decision, taking the needs of the local populace into account. In this specific case, it was more convenient for the locals that Bashik remains permanently in one central location than traveling to far-flung villages that are more difficult to reach. This is also true for Pabasi. 53 Ortner, 2006: 136. In contrast to the “hard” concept of agency, in the “soft” def inition of agency “intention is not a central component” (Ortner, 2006: 134).

Local Tr aditions in Times of Change

149

A young Brahmin from Jubbal expressed the situation somewhat differently, depicting the residents as being more assertive vis-à-vis the deity: “Maybe the people convinced the devta to stay in one place.” I often heard the idea that people from the devtas’ administrations are largely responsible for swaying the decisions of these deities. In a majority of cases, the locals claimed that the wazir, who is the deity’s chief off icer, is the person most responsible for Chalda’s actions. Bittu, one of Botha’s mediums, told me: “Devta only listens to [the] wazir. Whatever the wazir says, devta will listen.” According to Bittu, the relationship is such that the wazir dispenses advice and the devta obeys. In Thadiyar (the site where Pabasi’s wazir lives), the relationship between Pabasi and Pabasi’s wazir is more one-sided. When I asked why Pabasi had stopped roaming, I was told by a follower of Pabasi: “Now the wazir doesn’t allow him to go.” When I asked why, the answer was: “People don’t accompany the palki (palanquin) of devta, so he stays here.” Thus, according to the locals, it was the wazir who decided that Pabasi would stop traveling because people didn’t want to accompany the deity when he moved from village to village. On one of my visits to Chalda, when the deity was in Janog, I struck up a conversation with several locals in the temple, including the son of the previous Chalda’s wazir in shathi, a pujari (priest), and a bhandari (treasurer).54 I asked why Chalda had come from Thangar to Janog in his current roaming cycle, even though on his last round of the area thirty years ago, he had traveled in the opposite direction, from Janog to Thangar. They smilingly informed me that it was a misunderstanding on the part of the previous wazir. None of them attributed any independent will to Chalda. All agreed that the wazir has the last word, and that in fact it was the mistake of the previous wazir. Now, they said, the deity’s rounds are in line with his traditional spatial movements. Apart from the local wazir, the thanis (assistants to the priests) and bhandaris (treasurers) are also largely responsible for the actions and decisions of Chalda and other deities. It was interesting to discover that the pujaris (priests) are not believed to have much influence over the devtas. Perhaps this is because the thanis and bhandaris are mostly from 54 Chalda has two wazirs, one for the pashi area and one for the shathi area. Shathi’s current wazir is Diwan Singh Rana. Until 1978, his father, Kedar Singh Rana, was the wazir. Diwan was a child when his father passed away, and the position went to Jaipal Singh Rana, Kedar’s brother’s son, not without dispute. Diwan took over the position after Jaipal died in 2014. During my visit to Janog, I met the son of Jaipal Singh Rana.

150 

The Biogr aphy of a God

the Rajput caste, while the priests are Brahmins—the division probably reflects the balance of power between these two high-status castes in the region.55 The malis (mediums) are also not usually believed to influence daily events. The perception is that they serve only as a pipeline to the devtas; they cannot express their own opinions or independently sway the believers. Nevertheless, occasionally I heard about mediums influencing deities’ decisions. These views were generally expressed by villagers who had reservations about the authenticity of a specific medium or the institution of mediumship as a whole. I have presented a wide range of interpretations of the deity’s agency in the context of spatial-movement practices. However, locals do not always express identical and coherent views. Sometimes the same person even provides different interpretations. For example, when in Bholar I asked why Pabasi had not visited the village for a long time. I was told, “[t]he reason behind it might be the wazir sahab (sir). He is not allowing the devta to remain here.” But several minutes later, the same person said: “That is something that only god knows! Nobody knows. Human beings don’t know. It is god’s decision.” The other people present nodded their heads in agreement with both statements. The issue of godly agency also comes up in discussions of animal sacrifice (bali). As described in a previous section, some devtas have moved to a vegetarian diet.56 Who was responsible for their transition from a carnivorous to a vegetarian diet? When asked, this question also produces a range of responses, ranging from it being the exclusive decision of the devtas to a decision made by the locals. However, for most of the locals it is a combination of the deity’s will and the people’s choice. Here is a typical view, put forward by Ajay, a young man from Chiwan: They (the deities) stopped [the animal sacrifices] because the people asked for it. And that was because it involved expensive rituals, which many of the people could not afford. So, they asked the god for a substitute for the bali-pratha (tradition of animal sacrifice). The people stated their personal beliefs and choices to the god, what they thought was good and what was bad. They actually give their personal beliefs and personal choices. 55 Sharabi and Shalev, 2018. For an example of the rare influence of pujaris, see Ohri (2019), who describes a dispute between the priests and the shathi management that occurred when Chalda was moving from pashi to shathi in late 2012. 56 Sharabi and Shalev, 2016; compare with Elmore, 2016: 212–234; Halperin, 2019: 165–210; and Mallebrein, 2007.

151

Local Tr aditions in Times of Change

And then the god decides, “okay, if it is true.” The gods know everything; they (the gods) say, “this is pretty cool, yes, you can stop [the practice].”

Ajay describes a process that began when the villagers wanted to end the practice of bali. The deities had to give their permission for the change because their word is final. This version gives the locals a great deal of power, but ultimately it is the action of the devta (his approval) that brings about the change. Occasionally some of my interlocutors attributed far greater influence to the locals in the decision-making process. This was the view expressed by Anand, an eighty-four-year-old man from the village of Mandhol. He explained why in some temples of Botha, bali is no longer practiced, while it is still observed in others: “The devtas also listen to public demand. Whatever the public demand, they will accept that. If the people of the area want that there will be no sacrifice, so he (the devta) will accept it because devtas cannot go beyond the public. They have to more or less accept public demand.” Anand’s explanation links the decision of the devta to the prevalent public opinion surrounding each temple. Ostensibly, this statement presents the supernatural as a reflection of the social structure. However, Anand does not dismiss Botha’s position in the decision to ban sacrificial offerings, because the deity’s tangibility and action are vital to understanding the issue of animal sacrifices. After all, Botha “listens to” and “accepts” public opinion. Thus, he has an active role in the social process. As Saba Mahmood has argued, abiding by social norms without expressing opposition does not testify to a lack of agency: the fact that the devta chooses to abide by social norms does not mean he has no agency.57 *** Recently scholars have suggested that agency does not belong to a single individual but instead is shared by a multiplicity of people, objects, and other entities. Hence some scholars have suggested using the concept of “distributed agency.”58 For example, in his study on the healing process of local deities in Uttarakhand, William Sax claims that in ritual healing, agency should not be attributed only to the guru (who performs the ritual). Instead, it is distributed among several parties: the guru, the oracles (mediums), the mantras, the book of spells, healing materials (like ashes), and the deity 57 Mahmood, 2001. 58 Enfield and Kockelman 2017.

152 

The Biogr aphy of a God

himself. Thus, he argues, the “devtas are authentic social agents, essential parts of a network of healing agencies.”59 This chapter’s findings suggest that this new understanding of agency in the anthropological literature, as exemplified by William Sax’s work, can be shared with the believers of Mahasu. Mahasu’s followers point to the dominance of humans in the decisions of the gods, and how agency is distributed between several actors and objects. They acknowledge their role in actions such as the deity’s itinerant journeys and the offering of sacrifices. Thus the agency described by the followers of Mahasu is distributed agency, which is linked to several factors: 1. the god’s administrators, who can make decisions or convince the god how to act; 2. the community, which can pressure the deity or his administrators to act in a certain way; 3. the devta, who can express himself through mediums or objects. It seems that the gap between the anthropologists’ perception of the gods and the perception of the research participants, as described at the beginning of this section, can be bridged by the concept of distributed agency. Therefore, I suggest that the concept of distributed agency allows both ethnographers and locals to relate to the god’s agency without ignoring the reflected social structures and power relations of the religious experience. In this section, I discussed the significance of Mahasu’s administrators, who, according to the locals, can lead the god or convince him to act. The next section will explain who these administrators are and how they are selected.

Bibliography Ahearn, Laura M. 2010. “Agency and Language.” In Society and Language Use, edited by Jurgen Jaspers, Jan-Ola Ostman, and Jef Verschueren, 28–48. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publishing. Alaudin, M. 1992. Kalash: The Paradise Lost. Lahore: Progressive Publishers. Berreman, Gerald D. 1963. Hindus of the Himalayas: Ethnography and Change. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Berti, Daniela. 2009. “Divine Jurisdictions and Forms of Government in Himachal Pradesh.” In Territory, Soil and Society in South Asia, edited by Daniela Berti and Gilles Tarabout, 311–339. Delhi: Manohar. Berti, Daniela. 2011. “Political Patronage and Ritual Competitions at Dussehra Festival in Northern India.” In Ritual, Heritage and Identity: The Politics of Culture 59 Sax, 2009: 134.

Local Tr aditions in Times of Change

153

and Performance in a Globalised World, edited by Christiane Brosius and Karin M. Polit, 126–148. New Delhi: Routledge. Bhatt, G.S. 2010. Cult, Religion and Society: Polyandrous People of Western Himalaya. India: Rawat Publications. Bourdieu, Pierre. 1977. Outline of a Theory of Practice. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Brentnall, Mark. 2004. The Princely and Noble Families of the Former Indian Empire: Himachal Pradesh. Volume 1: Himachal Pradesh. New Delhi: Indus Publishing Company. Cacopardo, Augusto S. 2016. Pagan Christmas: Winter Feasts of the Kalasha of the Hindu Kush. London: Gingko Library. Cassaniti, Julia. 2012. “Agency and the Other: The Role of Agency for the Importance of Belief in Buddhist and Christian Traditions.” Ethos 40 (3): 297–316. Colapietro, Vincent Michael. 1989. Peirce’s Approach to the Self: A Semiotic Perspective on Human Subjectivity. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press. Dobres, Marcia-Anne. 2000. Technology and Social Agency: Outlining a Practice Framework for Archaeology. Oxford: Blackwell Publishers. Elmore, Mark. 2016. Becoming Religious in a Secular Age. Oakland: University of California Press. Emerson William Herbert. n.d. Mss.Eur.E.321, unpublished anthropological study. London: British Library, Oriental and India Office Collections (OIOC). Chapters 4–5. Enfield, N.J., and P. Kockelman. 2017. Distributed Agency. New York: Oxford University Press. Espírito Santo, Diana, and Ruy Blanes. 2014. “Introduction: On the Agency of Intangibles.” In The Social Life of Spirits, edited by Diana Espírito Santo and Ruy Blanes, 1–32. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. Flueckiger, Joyce Burkhalter. 2015. “‘Who Am I … What Significance Do I Have?’ Shifting Rituals, Receding Narratives, and Potential Change of the Goddess’ Identity in Gangamma Traditions of South India.” Oral Tradition 29: 171–186. Foulston, Lynn. 2002. At the Feet of the Goddess: The Divine Feminine in Local Hindu Religion. Portland, OR: Sussex Academic Press. Giddens, Anthony. 1979. Central Problems in Social Theory: Action, Structure and Contradiction in Social Analysis. Berkeley: University of California Press. Govindrajan, Radhika. 2015. “‘The Goat That Died for Family’: Animal Sacrifice and Interspecies Kinship in India’s Central Himalayas.” American Ethnologist 42 (3): 504–519. Halperin, Ehud. 2016. “A Vehicle for Agency: Rath Rituals and the Construction of Himalayan Devtas as Complex Agents.” European Bulletin of Himalayan Research 48: 5–42.

154 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Halperin, Ehud. 2019. The Many Faces of a Himalayan Goddess: Hadimba, Her Devotees, and Religion in Rapid Change. New York: Oxford University Press. Handa, Om Chanda. 2001. Temple Architecture of the Western Himalaya: Wooden Temples. New Delhi: Indus Publishing. Hocart, Arthur Maurice. 1970. The Life-Giving Myth and Other Essays. London: Methuen. Huang, Shu-li. 2017. “The Ahmao (Miao) Schism: The Problem of Spiritual Agency in Encounters between Church and State in Southwest China.” Asian Ethnicity 18 (2): 218–235. Keane, Webb. 1997. “Religious Language.” Annual Review of Anthropology 26: 47–71. Keane, Webb. 2014. “Rotting Bodies: The Clash of Stances toward Materiality and its Ethical Affordances.” Current Anthropology 55 (10): 312–321. Kockelman, Paul. 2007. “Agency: The Relation between Meaning, Power, and Knowledge.” Current Anthropology 48 (3): 375–401. Lamont, Michele, and Virag Molnar. 2002. “The Study of Boundaries across the Social Sciences.” Annual Review of Sociology 28: 167–195. Levenstam, Sarah. 2013. “Rejection and Reaffirmation of Hierarchy in the Himalayas.” Independent Study Project (ISP) Collection. Paper 1647. http://digitalcollections.sit.edu/isp_collection/1647. Lewis, Ioan Myrddin. 1971. Ecstatic Religion: An Anthropological Study of Spirit Possession and Shamanism. Harmondsworth: Penguin Books. Mahmood, Saba. 2001. “Feminist Theory, Embodiment, and the Docile Agent: Some Reflections on the Egyptian Islamic Revival.” Cultural Anthropology 16 (2): 202–236. Mallebrein, Cornelia. 2007. “When the Buffalo Becomes a Pumpkin: The Animal Sacrifice Contested.” In Periphery and Centre: Groups, Categories, Values, edited by Georg Pfeffer, 443– 472. New Delhi: Manohar. Mallebrein, Cornelia. 2014. “The Divine Play on Earth: Forms of Possession in Odisha.” In Dialogues with Gods: Possession in Middle Indian Rituals, edited by Tina Otten and Uwe Skoda, 31–76. Berlin: Weissensee Verlag. Mines, Diane P. 2005. Fierce Gods: Inequality, Ritual, and the Politics of Dignity in a South Indian Village. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Miyazaki, Hirokazu. 2000. “Faith and its Fulfillment: Agency, Exchange, and the Fijian Aesthetics of Completion.” American Ethnologist 27 (1): 31–51. Ohri, Lokesh. 2019. Till Kingdom Come: Medieval Hinduism in the Modern Himalaya. Ranikhet: Permanent Black. Ortner, Sherry. 2006. “Power and Projects: Reflections on Agency.” In Anthropology and Social Theory: Culture, Power, and the Acting Subject, edited by Sherry Ortner, 129–153. Durham, NC and London: Duke University Press. Pickering, Andrew. 1995. The Mangle of Practice: Time, Agency, and Science. Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press.

Local Tr aditions in Times of Change

155

Rose, H.A., Sir Denzil Ibbetson, and Sir Edward MacLagan. 1919. A Glossary of the Tribes and Castes of the Punjab and Northwest Frontier Province. Volume 1. Lahore: Superintendent, Government Printing, Punjab. Saksena, R.N. 1962 (1954). Social Economy of a Polyandrous People. Bombay: Asia Publishing House. Sax, William. 2006. “A Divine Identity-Crisis.” In Ritual and Identity: Performative Practices as Effective Transformations of Social Reality, edited by Klaus-Peter Köpping, Bernhard Leistle, and Michael Rudolph, 101–127. Berlin: Lit Verlag. Sax, William. 2009. God of Justice: Ritual Healing and Social Justice in the Central Himalayas. New York: Oxford University Press. Scialpi, Fabio. 2020. “The Radhasoami Satsang: A New Religion between Mysticism and Social Service.” In New Religious Movements in Modern Asian History: SocioCultural Alternatives, edited by David W. Kim, 67–89. London: Lexington Book. Sen, Chandra. 1971. Ritual Complex and Social Structure in Jaunsar Bawar. Delhi: Office of the Registrar General. Shalev, Hagar, and Asaf Sharabi. 2018. “Sanskritization of the Upper Castes: The Case of Mahāsū Followers.” Anthropos 113 (1): 258–267. Sharabi, Asaf, and Hagar Shalev. 2016. “From Ruler to Healer: Changes in Religious Experience in the Western Himalayas.” Himalaya 36 (2): 22–35. Sharabi, Asaf, and Hagar Shalev. 2018. “Charismatic Mediumship and Traditional Priesthood: Power Relations in a Religious Field.” Religion 48 (2): 198–214. Sharma, B.R. 2008. Gods of Himachal Pradesh. Shimla: Indus Publishing Company. Small, Meredith F. 1993. Female Choices: Sexual Behavior of Female Primates. Ithaca, NY and London: Cornell University Press. Sutherland, Peter. 2003. “Very Little Kingdoms: The Calendrical Order of West Himalayan Hindu Polity.” In Sharing Sovereignty—Royalty on a Small Scale: The Little Kingdom in South Asia, edited by G. Berkemer and M. Frenz, 31–61. Berlin: Klaus Schwartz Verlag. Sutherland, Peter. 2006. “T(r)opologies of Rule (Raj): Ritual Sovereignty and Theistic Subjection.” European Bulletin of Himalayan Research 29–30: 82–119. Taussig, Michael T. 1980. The Devil and Commodity Fetishism in South America. Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press. Turner, Victor W. 1968. The Drums of Affliction: A study of Religions Processes among the Ndembu of Zambia. Ithaca: Cornell University Press. The Tribune. 2004. “Women Can Enter Mahasu Temple.” The Tribune, May 26. https://www.tribuneindia.com/2004/20040526/nation.htm. Tribune News Service. 2001. “3,000 Sheep Killed to Propitiate ‘Devta.’” The Tribune, December 10. http://www.tribuneindia.com/2001/20011211/himachal.htm#1. Utter, Hans. 2010. Trance, Ritual and Rhythm: The Cult of Mahasu Deota in the Western Himalayas. Delhi: B.R. Rhythms.

156 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Waghorne, Joanne Punzo. 2001. “The Gentrification of the Goddess.” International Journal of Hindu Studies 5 (3): 227–267. Wellens, K. 2017. “Resilient Cosmologies: Water Deities and Divine Agency in Post-Mao China.” Anthropological Forum 27 (4): 366–381. Wertsch, James V., Peter Tulviste, and Fran Hagstrom. 1993. “A Sociocultural Approach to Agency.” In Contexts for Learning: Sociocultural Dynamics in Children’s Development, edited by Ellice A. Forman, Norris Minick, and C. Addison Stone, 336–356. New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press. Zoller, Claus Peter. 2007. “Is Bangani a V2 Language?” European Bulletin of Himalayan Research 31: 83–141.

5

Communicating with Mahasu Abstract In this chapter I present Mahasu’s management, and the mediums through which one can communicate with Mahasu. I describe and analyze some encounters between Mahasu and his followers and demonstrate the locals’ epistemological dilemma regarding communicating with Mahasu through mediums: do they really converse with their gods? Keywords: mediums, spirit possession, charisma, doubt

The God’s Management The Mahasu brothers’ management comprises several roles, one of the most prestigious being that of wazir. There are two wazirs, one for shathi and one for pashi. The wazir of shathi is the head of Bashik’s vazarat (management) and is also responsible for Chalda when he is traveling in shathi. Likewise, the wazir of pashi is the head of Pabasi’s vazarat and is responsible for Chalda when he is in pashi. The wazirs of shathi and pashi are jointly responsible for the main temple in Hanol, the permanent location of Botha. As Hanol is located within shathi, the wazir of shathi has an advantage that manifests in the role of nayab wazir, the resident manager in Hanol. This position lasts for two years and is held alternately by people from Chatra, Purtad, and Ninus. These villages are in the Bawar region of shathi.1 Although the wazirs are important, the people who actually manage the temples in the territory of Mahasu are the priests (pujari), priests’ assistants (thani), and accountants (bhandari). They are known as the kardars (management) of the temple. The kardars operate the temples independently of the wazirs, especially Botha’s temples and temples that have palanquins (palki) of their own. 1 Bhatt (2010: 332) mentions that when he visited Hanol in 1953 and in 1974 there was only one nayab wazir, but in 1998 there were two—one each from Chatra and Ninus.

Sharabi, A., The Biography of a God: Mahasu in the Himalayas. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press 2023 doi: 10.5117/9789463726658_ch05

158 

The Biogr aphy of a God

The priests of Mahasu are called pujaris or deopuzia. They are responsible for temple services, including the daily puja. Often the pujaris also function as kul purohit (family priests), overseeing life-cycle rites in the village. For example, they perform their duties when a child is born and purification ceremonies are required, or when a family wants to read a child’s horoscope ( janma-kundali). As the role is usually passed down from father to son, pujaris enjoy traditional authority (parampara, a Sanskrit word for series, tradition; lineage). When a pujari can no longer hold the position (due to death or retirement), his oldest son has the right to be the pujari. If he refuses and there are no other brothers to take his place, the village invites a new Brahmin to be their pujari. Although it is not obligatory, the role is usually filled by a relative of a pujari of Mahasu or another devta. The pujaris who serve in Hanol come from Chatra, Ninus, and Purtad villages, and they share the work throughout the year.2 The pujaris in the main Bashik temple, in Maindrath, are from Ninus, Maindrath, and Bagi villages, and they also divide the work throughout the year.3 The pujaris in the main Pabasi temple, in Thadiyar, are from the village of Dagoli. When Bashik or Pabasi travels to other villages, the pujaris from these villages accompany them. The system is somewhat different in the case of Chalda’s pujaris. The pujaris come from four villages: Chatra, Ninus, Purtad, and Maindrath. Each year (between one Jagra festival and the next) the pujaris come from one of the four villages, in turn. For example, when Chalda spent a year in Janog (December 2016 to December 2017) the pujaris came from Maindrath. When he moved to Tharoach and stayed there until November 2018, the pujaris came from Chatra. The pujaris of Hanol (Botha), Bashik, and Chalda therefore come from five villages: Chatra, Purtad, Ninus, Maindrath, and Bagi. These villages are all in the Bawar region in shathi. Only the pujaris of Pabasi come from the village of Dagoli in the Bangan region in pashi. This demonstrates the importance of shathi as compared to pashi in the functioning of Mahasu’s cult. 2 Half of the year is covered by pujaris from Chatra, while pujaris from Ninus and Purtad work for approximately three months each. Pujaris from Chatra serve during the months of Chaitr, Sharvan, Jeth, Asauj, Mangsir, and Magh. Pujaris from Ninus serve in the months of Bhadon, Phalgun, fifteen days of Kartik, and twenty days of Baisakh. Pujaris of Purtad serve in the months of Asar, Paus, fifteen days of Kartik, and ten days of Baisakh. 3 Pujaris from Bagi serve for eight months: Baisakh, Jeth, Asar, Sharvan, Bhadon, Kartik, Paus, and Phalgun. Pujaris from Ninus and Maindrath each serve two months: Chaitr and Asauj, and Mangsir and Magh, respectively.

Communicating with Mahasu

159

Other than these pujaris of Mahasu, many pujaris serve in the temples to other deities that can be found throughout Mahasu’s territory. In some villages, like Hanol, pujaris occupy the position on a part-time basis (a few days, a few weeks, or a few months), sharing the role with others throughout the year. For example, in Botha’s temple in Jubbal, one man serves as pujari for eight months each year; during the other four months, three brothers divide the work equally among themselves. All four of these pujaris are relatives. Because pujaris’ duties are divided amongst family members and can continue this way from generation to generation, some pujaris (especially in Hanol) only serve for a few days each year. There are several motivations to preserve this duty, even if only a few days per year, instead of passing it to someone else in the family, including the income the pujari gets for his service; the view that it is a divinely ordained family duty; and a sense of religious obligation—to abandon it would be an unrighteous act against Mahasu. Many villages have only one pujari, who is hired by the villagers and serves throughout the year. He is usually responsible for performing the daily puja, not only for Mahasu but also for other devtas who have temples in the village. Such is the case in Dhar, where the pujari gives the daily puja to Mahasu, Snatopia, and Durga Mata. In some cases, a number of villages hire one pujari, and every day he travels between them to give the daily puja to Mahasu. Such is the case in the Rohru region, where every day a single pujari visits the villages of Khangta, Droti, and Ksheni. A pujari must observe certain restrictions. First and foremost, he cannot eat his one daily meal until he has performed the daily puja. He can only drink water, milk, or tea, and he can only eat fruit. Sometimes the puja is performed around 9–10 a.m., while in other places (like Hanol) the puja is given to Mahasu around 4–5 p.m. According to some villagers, these restrictions often trigger medical problems among priests. Perhaps this is the reason being a pujari for the entire year is not very tempting for the younger generation, especially if they already have government jobs. There are also rules the pujari must obey even when it is not his period of duty: to preserve his purity, he cannot consume alcohol or eat fish, eggs, chicken, or any meat except mutton. Pujaris are regarded as pujaris before, during, and after they fulfill their daily duties. This identity is all-encompassing, both for them individually and in the eyes of the community. Since there is no distinction between the function of the pujari and his own personality, he must observe the rules of purification at all times, even when not involved in religious practice.

160 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Image 18  Pujari in action, Jubbal

Photo by Asaf Sharabi

Moreover, in Mahasu’s territory, pujaris belong to the Brahmin caste, and for many locals, especially the adults, this is very significant with regard to the symbolic holiness and purity that surrounds them. Two other important administrative roles in Mahasu’s cult are played by thanis and bhandaris. Thanis are the pujaris’ assistants and bhandaris are the ones responsible for the finances of Mahasu’s operations. In some villages the bhandaris have the highest authority amongst the management personnel. Almost all thanis and bhandaris are Rajputs, and the others are from the Brahmin caste. As with pujaris, there are thanis and bhandaris at the village level who fulfill their duties in the village temple; there are also thanis and bhandaris who serve in Hanol and accompany Bashik, Pabasi, and Chalda whenever they move. The thanis and bhandaris of Bashik come from villages in the Bawar and Phanar regions in shathi, as he is the lord of that area. 4 The thanis and bhandaris of Pabasi come from the Bangan region in pashi, as he is the lord 4 The villages of the thanis are Chausal, Maindrath, Teuntar, and Kuna (Bawar), and Phanar and Overaser (Phanar). The villages of the bhandaris are Bagi (Bawar) and Overaser (Phanar). The bhandaris from Bagi are from Brahman families.

Communicating with Mahasu

161

of that area.5 When Chalda is in shathi, the thanis and bhandaris come from villages in shathi, and when he is in pashi, the thanis and bhandaris come from that region.6 The thanis and bhandaris of Hanol come from both shathi and pashi—unlike the pujaris, who all come from shathi. The bhandaris are from two villages located in Bawar.7 While the pujaris and the bhandaris are only from the Bawar region, the thanis from shathi come from nine villages, only three of which are in Bawar.8 The thanis and bhandaris of pashi who serve in Hanol come from the Bangan area, with the two prominent exceptions of Bhatar and Dhadi villages in Jubbal tehsil.9 This is exceptional for two reasons. First, this is the only case in which members of the Hanol management (which includes wazirs, pujaris, thanis, and bhandaris) come from villages in Himachal Pradesh, not from Uttarakhand. Second, Bhatar is a Brahmin village, while the other thanis of Hanol are all from the Rajput caste. It is interesting to review the regions from which the thanis and bhandaris come to serve in Hanol, Maindrath, and Thadiyar and to accompany Chalda. While the pujaris come from only five villages located in the Bawar region (in the case of Hanol, Maindrath, and to accompany Chalda) and one in the Bangan region (in the case of Thadiyar), the thanis and bhandaris are more diverse, hailing from many more villages in other regions. Nevertheless, their villages are located almost exclusively in Uttarakhand. The two exceptions are Bhatar and Dhadi in Himachal Pradesh, who send thanis to Hanol. The villages in Uttarakhand are located almost exclusively in the Jaunsar-Bawar and Bangan regions. The one exception is Bhirti in the region of Fateh Parvat, which sends bhandaris to Chalda when he is roaming in shathi. 5 The villages of the thanis are Saras (Masmoor patti), Makuri (Pingal patti), and Barauth and Chiwan (Kotigar patti). The villages of the bhandaris are Odatha (Masmoor patti), Bhutanu (Pingal patti), and Jhotvari (Kotigar patti). 6 The villages of shathi who send thanis are Koti (Bawar region), Kistur and Sharni (Lakheu region), and Jitar (Deogar region). The villages of pashi who send thanis are Thari and Bamsu (Masmoor region), Kiroli and Bhutanu (Pingal region), and Jhotvari (Kotigar region). The villages of shathi who send bhandaris are Aithan (Silgaon region), Birnar (Bawar), and Jitar (Deogar region). The villages of pashi who send bhandaris are Petri (Masmoor region), Bothanu (Pingal region), Chiwan (Kotigar region), and Bhirti (Fateh Parvat region). 7 The villages are Chausal and Koti. 8 The villages are Teuntar, Chausal, and Koti (Bawar region); Bhunar, Angedi, Hattar, and Dinnar (Silgaon region); and Phanar and Bagur (Phanar region). 9 Other than Bhatar and Dhadi, the villages of pashi who send thanis are Saras, Bamsu, Bhutotra, and Petri Salla (Masmoor region), and Kukrera (Pingal region). Kotigar patti has no representation of thanis in Hanol, perhaps because Kotigar patti has a monopoly over the pujaris of Pabasi, who all come from Dagoli village in Kotigar. The villages who send bhandaris are Saras (Masmoor patti) and Balaut (Kotigar patti).

162 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Image 19  Bajgis in action, Thadiyar

Photo by Asaf Sharabi

At the caste level, only two villages are Brahmin: Bhatar (which sends thanis to Hanol), and Bagi (which sends bhandaris to Bashik in Maindrath). Rajputs fill the roles of thanis and bhandaris in the many temples (mostly Botha’s) in Mahasu’s territory. In these temples, very few Brahmins act as functionaries. Rajputs are therefore not only in the majority in Mahasu’s territory, but they also retain a firm hold on the management of the Mahasu cult. Almost all the Rajputs who occupy the position of thanis and bhandaris in Hanol, Maindrath, and Thadiyar, and accompanying Chalda come from four families: Chauhan, Rana, Rawat, and Panwar, of which Chauhan is the most dominant.10 This indicates that the Mahasu cult reflects the power structure of a network of families. What pujaris, bhandaris, and thanis have in common is that they all come from the two high-status castes, Brahmins and Rajputs. This is not the case with the bajgis (devals or dhakis). Bajgis are musicians, or more accurately a jati (caste) of musicians. They play drums and trumpets in Mahasu’s puja. According to Hans Utter, who researched bajgis in Hanol, the music played during puja serves three practical functions. First, it is intended to appease the devtas, guaranteeing that they will provide good health to the people and 10 Two exceptions are when Chalda is in shathi, there are thanis of the Negi family (from Bhutanu) and bhandaris of the Kunwar (from Bhirti) and Thakur (from Jitar) families.

163

Communicating with Mahasu

ensure a bountiful harvest. Second, it generates possession of the mediums by the devtas. Third, it provides income for the bajgis.11 Bajgis also play a central role in life-cycle rites (such as when someone dies). In the Hanol region, the musicians of Mahasu are called devals or bajgis, while musicians who practice life-cycle rites are called dhakis. In the Jubbal region, however, all musicians are known as dhakis. Traditionally, the bajgis also preserved the oral puran: the katha, the origin of Mahasu, and so on.12 Indeed, when I asked the wazir of pashi about some of Mahasu’s genealogy, he called on an old bajgi for assistance. The bajgis in Hanol and Maindrath (Bashik) and who follow Chalda are all from the Bawar and Deogar regions, while the bajgis of Thadiyar (Pabasi) are from the Bangan region. In the case of the bajgis, too, the importance of Bawar in the Mahasu cult is evident. In other villages, the bajgis come from nearby areas because, like other castes, they are spread throughout Mahasu’s territory. Although the bajgis have an important role in the Mahasu cult, because their music is essential for the rituals, they are considered a low-status caste, with all that entails: they cannot enter the temples or touch the palanquins (palki) of Mahasu; they cannot enter the houses of Rajputs or Brahmins, or sit at the same table with them when they eat—to mention only a few aspects of the discrimination they experience. *** An examination of the various roles in Mahasu’s management personnel highlights the importance of the Bawar region and the Rajput caste in Mahasu’s territory. The signif icance of Bawar is evidenced by the fact that the pujaris of Hanol (Botha), Bashik, and Chalda come from this area—and in general most of the functionaries (wazir, pujaris, bhandaris, thanis) in the main temple in Hanol come from the Bawar region. This indicates that this region was most likely the starting point for the kingdom of Mahasu. The Rajput caste exclusively occupies the role of wazir and retain a firm grip on the bhandari and thani positions. This comes as no surprise, since Rajputs make up the majority of the population. What is surprising is that Rajputs also occupy another essential role in Mahasu’s cult: that of the medium. In many other places in the Western Himalayas, this function is 11 Utter, 2010. 12 Bhatt, 2010: 359.

164 

The Biogr aphy of a God

filled by people of low-status castes.13 The mediums of Mahasu are discussed in the next section.

Mediums When I arrived in Jubbal in 2014, I went in search of a driver to hire to take me around the villages in Mahasu’s territory. Kiran, whom I had met before, was warmly recommended. I first met him at the Mahasu temple in Jubbal, where he was functioning as a medium at the request of one of the locals. It turned out that during the day Kiran worked as a taxi driver. Being a “taxi driver” in the Himalayas (and perhaps in many parts of rural India in general) depends upon owning a car and being willing to transport people from place to place for a fee. Working as a medium—if you can call it work—was basically a side job for Kiran; he was only called upon to do this work once in a while, when someone wanted to talk to Mahasu and needed a medium. Like Kiran, there are several hundred people serving as mediums of Mahasu as a side job, depending on demand. Although those who come to talk to Mahasu through a medium sometimes donate a few rupees, most mediums seek their livelihood elsewhere. Kiran is a taxi driver and, like most people in upper Shimla, also owns apple orchards. The recommendation turned out to be excellent. I traveled many miles with Kiran. As a medium, he had a great deal of knowledge about Mahasu and, no less importantly, he was well-acquainted with many people throughout Mahasu’s territory. Sometimes he even offered to introduce me to people he knew from other villages, making it easier for me to seek out information. Once he arranged a meeting with a man he knew from the village of Pronti. On the way there we had an unpleasant experience. We stopped to buy a snack, and when we got back on the road a bus hit the car. No one was hurt, but Kiran’s car was slightly damaged. Kiran argued with the bus driver about who was responsible for the accident and how much money should be paid. After a brief discussion he got back in the car, and we drove to his friend in Pronti. During the interview with his friend, I occasionally glanced at Kiran, who seemed preoccupied. He participated in the conversation, but it was clear that he had other things on his mind. After the incident, I had time to reflect on Kiran’s reaction to the accident. In fact, his behavior throughout our acquaintance was always agreeable. Kiran is a friendly person. His actions are measured, never extreme, even 13 Berreman, 1964.

Communicating with Mahasu

165

in stressful situations. It is hard to imagine that there are times when he functions as a medium. He looks and acts like a regular guy. That is to say, there is a very clear distinction between the times when Mahasu speaks through him in a mediumship session, when he is seen to be in the grip of spiritual forces, and the rest of the time, when his appearance and conduct seem perfectly ordinary. Kiran is not alone in this: most of the mediums of Mahasu that I came to know looked and behaved regularly in everyday life. Like Kiran, they also had other occupations: the owner of a photography shop, an art student, a janitor in a hospital, and so on. When I returned to the field in 2016, Kiran had returned to his government job as a driver. I still saw him now and again, but my new driver was Ajay, who also helped me with my research and was also a very amicable person. Had I not known, I could not have guessed whether Kiran or Ajay served as a medium in their spare time. How is the magic that enables people like Kiran to serve as mediums created? The mediums of the Mahasu brothers are called malis. According to Claus Peter Zoller, the word mali (which is a homonym of mali “gardener”) derives from the Sanskrit mahallaka, meaning “venerable, old.”14 The mali serves as a vessel through which the devotee can communicate directly with the deity. This is an attractive option, because it enables them to converse directly with Mahasu, ask questions, and receive both his blessing and a solution to their problems.15 There is at least one mali in many of the villages in Mahasu’s territory. If there are none, the villagers turn to the mali in the temple of a nearby village. In Hanol, where Mahasu’s main temple is located, there are several malis, some permanent, others transient. The locals say that for minor problems they can appeal to the malis in the villages, but for more weighty matters they turn to the malis in Hanol. Theoretically, anyone from the two high-status castes (Brahmins and Rajputs) can be a mali, but in practice most malis belong to the Rajput caste, which is also the majority group in the region.16 In a Weberian sense, the institution of the mali, like that of the pujari, carries traditional authority, 14 In correspondence with the author, September 12, 2017. 15 Another option is to turn to other experts such as astrologers, herbalists, and doctors (Joshi, 2004). This can be done independently from appealing to Mahasu. Sometimes the pujari also fulfils these functions. The Jagar, a well-known ritual of possession that occurs in nearby regions, does not take place in Mahasu’s territory, nor is there a practice of submitting written petitions, as in the case of the deity Goludev in Kumaon. On Jagar performance, see Anand, 2006; Krengel, 1999; Leavitt, 2016. On petitions, see Malik, 2016: 89–139. 16 In other parts of the Himalayas, the mediums can also come from low-status castes. See, for example, Berreman, 1964.

166 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Image 20  Mali in action

Photo by Asaf Sharabi

which is granted by custom.17 However, those who hold the position of mali do not have traditional authority as individuals (as the pujaris do) because most of them do not belong to a “mali family”—or at least they do not have to be from such a family. Most malis become mediums independently, and they (as well as society at large) regard this as an expression of the will of God. In local terms, they are said to have received the shadow (chaya) of the devta. They often say that before they started acting as a mali, they felt bothered by intense physical sensitivity, a feeling that something was wrong, that they were not functioning normally. They speak of thoughts and feelings that gave them no rest, almost as if they were losing their mind. Some said that they felt like there was something inside them, a shivery feeling in their stomach. One mali described it as follows: “For ten days I didn’t eat anything. I felt something has happened to me. So, I went to ask the devta, what’s going on.” Another one said: “I had gone to a forest for a trip; there I felt something inside me, so I started shouting. Then after two–three months I went to ask the devta for an explanation.” This liminal stage, which is related to the psychology of the individual, can last between several months and several years.18 The malis say it was these feelings and medical problems that led them to appeal to Mahasu (in other words, they met with a mali to communicate through him with the 17 Weber, 1978. 18 See also Joshi, 2010.

Communicating with Mahasu

167

deity), and in this way they ascertained whether these feelings indicated that they could be mediums. If Mahasu, through another mali, suggests or affirms that this is indeed the case, an individual can function as a mali. To be on the safe side, some ask for confirmation from several devtas (or several malis of the same devta) until they receive an answer that satisfies them. Some also ask for permission from the malis in the main Mahasu temple in Hanol. The following dialogue shows how the possibility of mediumship can arise in a conversation between Mahasu and villagers. It is taken from a conversation between Botha and a family who came to speak to him in Hanol in 2019. At the heart of the discussion were the son’s moods and behavior. In this case, Botha suggests that a devta is possessing the son, implying that he could be a medium. Mother: My lord! He (the son) is very disturbed. Father: He is upset all the time, and we consulted many doctors. There is no relief even after taking medicines too. We take him everywhere. Mahasu: This is not a dosh (curse). This is masan (an invocation of a deceased person’s spirit in the body of a living person). This boy had seen some incident. Father: (to the boy) Have you seen any incident? (the boy does not answer) Mahasu: This boy is scared. That incident had happened about fourteen to fifteen years ago. Mother: This issue has appeared for the last three to four months. Mahasu: He had this problem before that, but problems increased from the last four to five months. He feels more restlessness during amavasya (the new moon day) compared to other days. Other days he had less trouble. Father: Yes, my lord! He is more restless during amavasya. Mahasu: He feels discomfort. He is not in his senses. Pandit-ji, I suggested that the boy had a shadow of bhagwan (God, the boy can be possessed by a devta). Tell me, did I tell you that before or not? Father: Yes, you told. Mother: Yes, my lord. Mahasu: This shadow of bhagwan has come to protect him from the masan.

During the rest of the conversation, Botha repeatedly stated that there is a shadow of god within the boy. The parents refused to go in this direction and asked again and again if a curse (dosh) caused the problem. This cultural path seemed to be more appropriate for the parents: after all, a curse can

168 

The Biogr aphy of a God

be removed. Botha insisted that there was no curse but rather possession by both a masan and a devta. He eventually asked the parents to do some rituals in the following months and promised to take care of the problem by removing the masan from the boy. As can we learn from this and other cases, the function of the mali is not imposed upon an individual. A future mali must endeavor to become a mali; he must actively determine whether he is indeed a true mali. However, even if he discovers that he possesses these abilities, he is not required to fulfill the role, nor is he obliged to counsel all those who turn to him. His role as a medium is structured, not spontaneous—as opposed to cases of involuntary possession by other spirits. Another way to become a mali is if the residents of a village without a medium want a mali to live in their midst. In such a case, several villagers approach Mahasu, usually at the temple in Hanol, to ask which of them he chooses to be the mali. Either the same day or a few days later, one of the villagers will indicate that he is chosen by suddenly becoming possessed. Here too, the position of the mali is an expression of the god’s choice rather than a hereditary function that passes from father to son. Recognition of the mali is not based on any formal confirmation other than a consultation with Mahasu. The locals’ acceptance depends to a great extent on his performance and his good (or bad) reputation as a mali.19 According to Max Weber, charisma resides in the “specific gifts of the body and spirit”—gifts that “have been believed to be supernatural, not accessible to everybody.”20 In this sense, the mali has charisma, since the deity speaks through him, and his charisma is tested continually in each performance. Like any charismatic authority, it is not guaranteed and can disappear. Unlike the priests of Mahasu (pujaris), who operate in an organized field where the position is fixed for several days/weeks/months a year (and in some cases, for the whole year), malis operate in a free market: anyone from the two high-status castes can become a mali. Therefore, a mali must provide a convincing cultural performance so that the locals will trust him and continue to make use of his services. In other words, his role depends on his ability to convince those who come to him that the deity is indeed speaking through him. I do not claim that the mediums are playacting, or that they 19 Compare with other places such as Western Nepal, where the medium (dhami) must prove that the deity Masta chose him by performing a miracle. See Campbell, 1978; Gaborieau, 1976. 20 Weber, 1948: 245. Wessinger (2012, 82) defines charisma as “the belief that an individual, scripture, place, object, or other socially constructed entity has access to and is imbued with the qualities of an unseen source of authority.”

Communicating with Mahasu

169

are committing fraud against their clientele. I believe in the authenticity of their performance in the eyes of the mediums themselves. Nevertheless, becoming a medium involves learning a role.21 This means that a mali cannot do whatever he pleases. For example, in one of the villages in Jubbal region, a local mali of Mahasu had lost his mali’s charisma. As one local explained: “The people did not believe him. He told so many vulgar things. Like: ‘you should pray to me; you should worship me,’ the man—not the devta. ‘You should worship me. Touch my feet, take the blessings (ashirvada) from me.’” This man still lives in the village but has not functioned as a mali for many years. Mediums who are presumed to be false are not publicly denounced, because such condemnation could generate social conflict, which should be avoided whenever possible. If the locals suspect the mali is a fraud or ineffective, they no longer trust him and he is left without clients.22 Since Mahasu has many malis, and because mediums of other gods work alongside them, most malis function as mediums in a part-time capacity and need to maintain their charisma when possessed to retain their popularity as mediums in the local market. The villagers assume that in moments of possession, malis are the conduit through which the deity communicates with his devotees, nothing more than that. The malis themselves have no special holiness or social role, either before or after possession. As with other instances of mediums around the world, their status as mediums is only relevant when they are possessed.23 This view of mediums is not true everywhere in the Himalayas. Marie Lecomte-Tilouine, for example, notes that in Nepal there are mediums who wear special clothing every day and “any harm done to them, even when they are not possessed, is seen as an attack on the god they incarnate.”24 In the case of Mahasu, when the malis are not possessed, they function in ordinary ways and are not revered (unlike pujaris are, for example). They do observe certain restrictions, mainly, not eating chicken, eggs, and fish, abstaining from alcohol, and not eating in restaurants. Other than 21 See, for example, Pierini, 2016. 22 For a case of public condemnation of mediums’ performances outside of Mahasu’s territory, see Sharabi (2021). In places such as Mandi and Seraj, malis who failed to perform their duties satisfactorily have sometimes been removed from office by politically dominant leaders and replaced with others until they found a mali capable of performing the required duties. This information was provided by Arik Moran. 23 See, for example, DeBernardi, 2006: 301; Clart, 2003: 155. 24 Lecomte-Tilouine, 2009: 52. Outside the Himalayas, many authors have described relationships between mediums and spirits that are maintained outside of the possession itself; see for example Boddy, 1988; Lambek, 1981; Masquelier, 2002; Pierini, 2016.

170 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Image 21  Mali in action

Photo by Asaf Sharabi

that, they appear and behave like any other villager. Even when possessed, their behavior is measured and not wild. They sit and converse with the villagers like a therapy session, and when speaking to the public they stand and talk, without any elaborate performance. The ordinariness of Mahsu’s mediums stands out from the disposition of many other devtas in other places in the Western Himalayas. For example, some mediums grow their hair long, remove their shirts when possessed, and generally behave very wildly. Perhaps the behavior of the malis of Mahasu is rooted in the fact that, in contrast to many other mediums in the Himalayas, they belong to a high-status caste. In other words, perhaps lower-caste mediums tend towards a more extroverted performance to compensate for their low-caste origins.25 Two types of interaction with Mahasu involve malis. The first is the relatively relaxed conversations between Mahasu and one or more of his followers, in which he answers their questions and helps with their problems. 25 Sax (2004) shows how ritual performance, personif ied through the body, is expressed differently by mediums of high status compared to those from lower castes. The mediums from low-status castes tend to whistle, speak in archaic tongues, or suddenly fall into a violent trance. They tend to treat the body as the site of a battle for control between various spirits. Using Bourdieu’s concept of habitus, Sax (2004: 302) argues that the “aesthetics of ritual performance both reflects and reproduces the social distribution of power within the order of castes.”

171

Communicating with Mahasu

The second is public events, when the deity speaks to a crowd of believers, and the issues at stake are communal. These usually happen during specific events, such as when Mahasu is on the move from one village to another or during the construction of a new temple. If the mali’s charisma, as defined by Max Weber, plays a central role in personal matters such as health problems and land disputes, Pierre Bourdieu’s theory of social fields can explain what occurs during their intervention in public matters. The social field refers to “the set of all the possible objective relations between positions.”26 All the players in the field compete with one another for resources and to promote their interests. This competition and the relationship between the specialists and the laypeople establish the dynamics of the religious field. While Weber argues that charisma is defined as an attribute of persons, Bourdieu maintains that the values and activities endorsed by the charismatic leader are socially generated and “already present in a latent state amongst all the members of the class or group of his addressees.”27 In the case of the mediums of Mahasu, it appears that the institution of the mali enables the Rajputs, who make up the vast majority of Mahasu’s devotees, to retain control over all decisions pertaining to the public sphere. Researchers of the Himalayas mostly agree that mediums have a great deal of internal-political power, although this is limited by factors such as the decentralization of power among themselves (because there are many of them) and the power of the objects that represent the deities (such as the palki).28 Thus the mediums’ potential for innovation is held in check by the status quo. Nevertheless, in some cases local deities, through their mediums, have succeeded in playing an active role in socio-political issues, especially in times of change and in the face of outside forces. As long as the Rajputs in Mahasu’s cult occupy most of these positions, they have means of governing. *** As mentioned, the role of the medium relies on charismatic authority, so there is doubt associated with this role. Three levels of doubt are exhibited by Mahasu’s followers. First, they may question whether a specific performance is authentic. Second, they may ask whether a particular medium is genuine. 26 Bourdieu, 1987: 121. 27 Bourdieu, 1987: 131. 28 Berreman, 1964; Berti, 2022; Lecomte-Tilouine, 2009; Sharabi and Shalev, 2018.

172 

The Biogr aphy of a God

And third, some, mostly young people, may question the very authenticity of the institution of mediumship. It is not rare to hear criticism of specif ic mediums. For example, in September 2014, the High Court of Himachal Pradesh banned animal sacrifice (bali). Still, the practice continued in some of the villages in Mahasu’s territory. The following is a conversation I had about the situation with two villagers in the Jubbal region: Man: The law is supreme. Asaf: Law is superior to devta? Man: Yah. Asaf: But if the devta wants bali? Man: Now, these days devta can understand [that there is no bali]. (laughs) Woman: Devtas don’t understand, but malis understand. Asaf: Oh! What do you mean? Woman: I mean that malis are afraid of the government.

The village where this conversation took place still practices bali, despite the official ban. The woman was criticizing the malis in other villages, who are afraid of the authorities, and therefore Mahasu, speaking through them, also forbids the bali system. The devtas, she claims, obviously want bali. The villagers have a technique to verify the authenticity of the mediumship. They call it gatti. I elaborate on this issue later. But first, let me expand, in the next section, on conversations held between Mahasu and his followers.

Talking with Mahasu When I met Anand for the f irst time in Jubbal market, he gave me the impression of a vigorous man despite the difficulty he faced in climbing the stairs to a small photo shop. Later, on another occasion, he told me about a pain in his right leg that would not leave him and about several doctors who were unable to relieve his pain. After several months, he appealed to Mahasu, who told him that the source of his problem was chhua (literally, “touch”). Chhua is a prohibition on partaking foods and liquids (water, soup, etc.) that have been touched by someone else. This situation arises when two rivals fail to reach a compromise, and the devta declares chhua between the two rivals and their offspring. That is, the adversaries and their offspring must avoid touching one another’s food and drink; if they violate the prohibition, problems can occur. Sometimes the chhua began

Communicating with Mahasu

173

several generations ago, in which case people can violate the prohibition without being aware of it. Anand’s problem, it turned out, was related to a dispute between Anand’s great-grandfather and another person, and the resulting chhua passed down through the generations. Anand, it appeared, must have touched the food or drink of the other person’s offspring. Mahasu gave Anand rice to keep in his pocket and gave him his blessing. Two weeks later, Anand told me happily that the pain had gone completely, and that he intended to bring a bali (sacrifice) to Mahasu.29 As can be seen from Anand’s case, villagers often do not immediately approach Mahasu for help. Medical problems, disharmony within the family, difficulties with livelihood, land disputes, and so on, are not brought to Mahasu right away. Usually people turn to him after several problems have accumulated, they have come to believe that life is not going the way it should, and perhaps something deeper (an “evil eye”?) needs to be clarified with Mahasu. This holds true particularly for people of high socio-economic status; poorer and less educated people generally approach Mahasu sooner. In particular, Mahasu’s followers tend not to approach Mahasu as their first option in medical matters; they first seek relief through biomedical and traditional medical sources. Mahasu is usually appealed to only when his followers are not satisfied with conventional solutions. Even if the conversation between Mahasu and his followers focuses on topics other than healing (such as land disputes), in most cases it eventually involves healing. This is because social relationships also manifest through health and illness. A conversation with Mahasu is therefore usually experienced as ritual healing. The meeting with the mali is structured as a ritual event. The mali and the villager(s) who approach him sit on the ground, and the ceremony begins with a brief meditation during which the mali performs a physical gesture to indicate that an alien entity has possessed him. This may take the form of loud breathing, placing one hand over the other, passing both hands behind his ears, and more. After a few seconds, a voice issues from the mali. The voice that emerges is perceived to be that of Mahasu. The ensuing dialogue is conducted between the devotees and the deity. The dialogue is relatively calm and resembles a consultation. During the session 29 The notion that the individual displaying symptoms of illness is not necessarily the one who requires treatment has also been observed in other cultures. For example, Xiong et al. (2005) demonstrates that healing is linked to family networks among Hmong in the United States: sometimes the person in need of healing is not the one displaying the symptoms of illness, but rather an ancestor, spirit, or other family member.

174 

The Biogr aphy of a God

the mali usually moves his hands in a fixed motion and/or moves his head slightly. Every mali has his own technique. What is common to all is the pile of rice that they stir, move around, or examine (after throwing it in the air and catching it). They then give or throw the rice to those who came to consult with Mahasu. The language employed when talking with Mahasu is usually the local dialect of Pahari. Pahari from the Jubbal region, for example, is not clearly understood in the Jaunsar-Bawar region. Moreover, sometimes followers of Mahasu move to cities such as Shimla or Dehradun, the result being that the second generation does not know Pahari well. In consequence, if someone comes from a great distance to approach a mali, the conversation may be conducted in Hindi, a language that is well known throughout Mahasu’s territory. Such cases can be found in Hanol. Whether the conversation is in Pahari or Hindi, the language of Mahasu is usually comprehensible. Still, there is some ambiguity that allows space for interpretation by the believers.30 The conversation between Mahasu and the devotee(s) usually begins with some words from Mahasu regarding the villager’s problem, and after this prologue, the devotee(s) say what is on their mind. However, sometimes the devotees begin to explain their reason for approaching Mahasu without this preamble.31 Once the problem has been clarified, Mahasu determines whether it is due to greh/graha (fate, influence of the planets),32 dosh (a curse of the gods), buri nazar (an evil eye cast by people), chhua (prohibition on touching the food of certain people, as a result of a conflict in previous generations), or masan (possession of the body of a living person by the spirit of a deceased person). If Mahasu concludes that the problem is due to the person’s greh, not much can be done: the villager should attempt biomedical treatment. Sometimes the villagers who approach Mahasu are not satisfied with this diagnosis, as I discuss below. If Mahasu diagnoses the problem as not relating to the person’s greh, he usually gives the devotee blessed rice (moti) to place on his body or in his house. In many cases, he asks for a 30 There are mediums of other devtas in nearby areas whose language is not fully understood. Leavitt (1997: 153), for example, notes that in the nearby area of Kumaon “the language of the gods is obscure and hard to understand.” Similarly, Sax (2004) distinguishes between mediums from high-status castes in the Garhwal region, who speak understandable Hindi, and those from low-status castes, who are less understandable. 31 In the nearby Garhwal region, Sax (2009: 54–59) describes a mechanism that he calls a “logic tree”: the beginning of a conversation with the devta consists of yes or no questions composed by the medium. This is not the case with Mahasu. 32 In Hindi it is pronounced graha, while in Pahari it is greh.

Communicating with Mahasu

175

one-rupee coin to be placed with the rice. The devotee is instructed to return after a specified time (for example, a week, a month, or several months) to see if they have experienced any relief. Once the person’s condition has improved, he or she may want to know the cause of the problem to ensure that it will not recur. In that case, the devotee may appeal once again to Mahasu, who will ascertain whether the problem relates to an ancestor, a land dispute, buri nazar, the dosh of a devta, and so on. Mahasu can provide a solution that usually involves the client offering chapatti, coconut, or bali (animal sacrifice) to Mahasu or another deity. Thus, the treatment usually involves ongoing therapy; it does not, as a rule, end with a single meeting. To illustrate a conversation between Mahasu and his followers, the following is a transcript of a meeting between (Botha) Mahasu and a couple that I recorded in Hanol. The couple’s problem was an ongoing quarrel and strange behavior exhibited by the wife. It was not the first time the couple had come to Hanol for this problem. Previously, Mahasu had blessed them and given them blessed rice, but without a diagnosis and without providing a solution to their problems. This time they hoped for more answers and ultimately some relief: Mahasu: You are doing well. You have a car and other necessities. Man: Yes maharaj (great king). Mahasu: Apart from this, what else do you have? You have [buri] nazar (evil eye). Man: Wherever I go, I have been told that I have buri nazar. What is this evil eye? Why am I not getting a solution for it? That’s why I have come to you. Mahasu: Don’t think that. I have always been making you secure. Because my blessings are with you, so I am protecting you. Man: But you have to bless me more. Who else will bless me? Do we have anyone else other than you? Mahasu: (angrily) Sometimes you are in some different form! Do you understand? Sometimes you are in some different form! Man: Yes, it changes. Mahasu: That’s what I said. Because of this evil eye, you (the couple) fight between yourselves. Woman: Yes, this is what happens. Man: You are absolutely correct. Mahasu: The lady (some other lady, not the wife) who is behind you, she is behind you like crazy! (She wants to hurt you like crazy) Do you understand? But since I have been blessing you, your family is intact.

176 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Man: Deva, I have come to your place two or three times. We want your blessings. Mahasu: My blessings are with you. Man: Deva, why don’t you do one thing! Please destroy that lady who is behind us like crazy. That’s what I can say deva. You must destroy the people who do injustice to others. Everything is right in front of you. Mahasu: She has caught her body (pointing to the woman) and her body is in trouble. Understood? Man: Yes, you are right. Mahasu: I am saying that you could have trust in me, if she can tell her pains to you. But she could not tell her pains to you. If she could have told her pains to you […] But it is not like this. She has problems of shivering (of the body) because she (some other lady) has controlled her. She (the woman) must be feeling uneasiness, sleepless nights and uneasiness during the daytime, headache, stiffness in the body, right? So first of all, you have three families.

At this point, Mahasu began to discuss the root of the problem, arguing that it is a quarrel within the extended family. Mahasu said to the couple that three nuclear families live in the house where the couple lives. The man answered: Man: No, we are two families. Mahasu: It can’t be two. Man: There are only two. Mahasu: No there are three families. Man: Yes, so I can’t say much about it, maybe families were divided in the past, which I have no idea about. I can’t comment much on that. Mahasu: You have two houses. Two houses. (Mahasu is saying that the three families are not living together in the same house, but rather in two different houses.) Man: Yes sir. Now I get it. Yes, we have three families. One is living here (talking about himself and his wife who live in the city) and the other two are at home (in the village). Mahasu: There is something else from the past. Talk to them, call them. There is one pap (sin; evil deed) in there. Man: Sin? Mahasu: Yes sin. Man: It’s all upon you deva, do whatever you want to do. I am working wholeheartedly. Other family members live at some other place, and I live in a different place. I live in a separate place because of my work.

Communicating with Mahasu

177

Mahasu: Believe that you have been given good days (acche din) to live your life. Man: Yes deva, I have been given good days to live my life. Mahasu: Believe that you have been given good days. Man: I completely agree with you deva. I have everything out there in my life. Mahasu: You go out of the house, and the evil eye will always follow you and it will always find you wherever you go. Understood? But it is my duty to stop that evil eye. Man: All hail deva. Give us your blessings. Mahasu: This is for you lady, take it (throws rice on them). Have you presented anything to the temple? Man: I have not presented anything. Now you can tell us, whatever we should give. This is mata ki chunri (goddess’s scarf). Bless this thing as well. Mahasu: (Mahasu blows on the cloth and gives it back to the man) Okay! (the couple fold their hands and bow before Mahasu)

The meeting between Mahasu and the couple raises several issues that appear in many of the meetings between the deity and his followers. First, the problem the couple presents to Mahasu is general and does not have to be specific. For example, a disharmonious life experience, a feeling that something is not going well. Second, it is not the first time that the couple came to inquire about the cause of their problem and what the solution could be. Indeed, people tend to come to Mahasu a few times to resolve their problems. Third, there is a woman who is making the life of the wife miserable. This “crazy” woman has taken over the wife’s body, and she is responsible for the disharmony between the couple. As in many cases, the source of the problem is an evil eye cast by someone the victim knows. It can also be a sin from the past, even from previous generations. Fourth, as in almost all cases, Mahasu promises those who approach him that he cares for them, he blesses them, and he provides them with blessed rice. The notion that healing occurs at the level of interpersonal relationships is quite common and can be found in many cultures.33 In some cases, the interpersonal aspects are even personif ied. William Sax, for example, describes how an oracle in Uttarakhand uses a rope to bind the entire family together during the healing ritual.34 These interpersonal 33 See, for example, Evans-Pritchard 1972 (1937); Favret-Saada, 1980; Sax 2009; Sered 2005; Turner 1967; Xiong et al., 2005. 34 Sax, 2009.

178 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Image 22  Mali in action

Photo by Asaf Sharabi

relationships in ritual healing are usually expressed as an evil eye, witchcraft, or spontaneous spirit possession. In Mahasu’s case, the idioms of the evil eye, chhua and spontaneous spirit possession are most frequently invoked. In Mahasu’s territory the extended family usually lives together in the same house. Problems experienced by locals can be related to this family structure, to the tensions that arise between nuclear families who live together under the same roof. Mahasu thus addresses family unity, which is considered one of the most important moral principles of the local society.35 The meeting with Mahasu can be held in the house of the mali or in the house of those who seek help, but usually takes place in the courtyard of one of Mahasu’s temples. Obviously, when the meeting is in a house, the event is more discreet, while a meeting in the temple courtyard is more public. It is interesting to note that people do not tend to hide their problems: not only can passersby potentially see and hear the conversation between Mahasu and his devotees, but it is also not uncommon for a group of people to approach Mahasu together, each to present their own problem. For example, in Hanol I recorded four women from the same village in the Bawar region who approached (Botha) Mahasu together. The mali meditated for a few seconds, then he kissed the tips of his fingers, pressed his palms to his ears, and kissed his hands again. He then moved his head and his right hand 35 See also Bindi, 2022; Sax, 2009.

Communicating with Mahasu

179

meditatively, threw rice above his head, and the conversation between Mahasu and the first woman began: Woman1: My son never listens to me at all. Mahasu: The obstacle, which is in front of you. Distress in life. Woman1: What should we do now? Mahasu: You have problems because of buri nazar (evil eye) due to which you had a quarrel in your family. Your son is also unhappy and you are also worried about him. Woman1: Among themselves, they often … (silent) Mahasu: Nobody is happy in your family. Money comes in the family, but it goes away instantly. There is no profit at all. There is an evil eye of a witch. There is a witch and her evil eye is on your family. Your son fell ill earlier. Evil eye of a female. This is very bad for you. But despite these evil things, your children managed to get some success in their lives. Listen to me, you have come to my place for the first time now. This is the first time, the very first time. So, now that you have come here today, you have also brought money along with you. I will prevent this from happening further. This evil thing walks with arrogance. There is no harmony between you and your son. The son stands to fight with you. This is the thing, but now I will prevent this from happening further. Woman1: And we (the woman and her son) don’t always agree with each other. Mahasu: That will be taken care of. Woman1: That’s what we needed. Mahasu: (gives rice to the woman) Now do one thing, take three fistfuls of wheat flour, a one-rupee coin along with this rice, and put all these things in a black cloth. Understood? Twirl it over you. There are three doors in your house. Tie it over the front door. Understood? The evil force will be drained out. This is a prevention till Bhadon (a month in the Hindu calendar). After Bhadon, we will permanently eradicate this problem. All right, my blessings.

After finishing the conversation with the first woman, Mahasu addressed the second woman: Mahasu: You are very disturbed. Your ways to success, from all four sides. All the doors to success are blocked. Your effort and hard work are being obstructed. There is no success in life. The money comes from one side and instantly vanishes. Whatever good you are doing for people, they

180 

The Biogr aphy of a God

are becoming your enemy. Whatever you are working on, it’s not giving any fruitful result. Isn’t it? (the woman nods) This is all because of the sin. Every twenty-four hours, you have quarrels in your family. Your mindset is to let it go, but the evil doesn’t want it that way. It’s like that evil is after your house. Constantly trying to acquire everything. But now I will protect you. Woman2: All I want is happiness. I am ready to leave everything. I don’t want anything else. I’ll leave everything. Mahasu: So, then she (the evil force or evil eye) will take over and rule. Woman2: I will leave everything. I only want my children with me and nothing else. Mahasu: So, then she will rule. Woman2: What else would we need then, to hell with it. Mahasu: Day and night, you are working hard to get everything straight. Woman2: Leave all this aside, I am not willing to leave any stones unturned. And will my daughter get married or not? I will even offer a goat if she gets married. Mahasu: I am not hungry for your goat. When you have come to me now. Woman2: I have come here three times earlier. Mahasu: I will let you get all the success. I will fulfill all your wishes. Woman2: My wishes, if my wishes get fulfilled, I will book a vehicle and bring the goat to this place. Mahasu: You already have done enough. Woman2: I came here at night. Mahasu: There is a restriction but still keep this rice. (gives rice to the woman) Just throw two to three rice outside and keep the rest with you, okay? (the woman nodded, and the third woman started talking) Woman3: I am also disturbed. Mahasu: You look a little disturbed, but there is no evil eye over you. You have all the blessings. (gives rice to the woman and then addresses the fourth woman) You had happiness in your life, and you will get happiness afterward as well. Woman4: What my wishes are, I want them fulfilled. Mahasu: I will let you get all the success. Whatever you have in your mind, I will fulfill it. I will fulfill all your wishes. (throws rice on the woman and gives her some rice)

As this episode demonstrates, sometimes Mahasu takes the lead. He defines the general concern of each woman and decides whether it is necessary to extend the conversation. In the cases of the first two women, Mahasu

Communicating with Mahasu

181

diagnosed a problem with family unity caused by a negative force, such as an evil eye or some other evil force (human or unhuman). Mahasu had shorter conversations with the last two women. To the third woman, he said two sentences, stating that she does not have an evil eye even though she appears to be disturbed. In other words, she has no “real” problem. He blessed her and turned immediately to the fourth woman, with whom he also spent little time. When the villagers set a time for a meeting with a local mali, the conversation can last as long as the villager wants. However, in Hanol, sometimes there are several groups of people waiting to talk with Mahasu and only two or three malis available. At such times, Mahasu talks with those who come to him one after the other. People can even sit near Mahasu, overhearing and watching his conversations with others as they wait for their turn. Conversations with Mahasu in Hanol usually range between three and ten minutes, while in the villages they can last a quarter of an hour or even more. Nevertheless, for significant problems (like an ongoing land dispute), even in Hanol the conversation can take quite a while. In such cases the group of people can take the mali aside so the session with Mahasu becomes a long event. Even though Mahasu takes the lead in many conversations, if a villager has an acute problem, he or she can urge Mahasu to find its cause and provide a solution. The villager can be much more assertive with the devta. An assertive approach can also be introduced when the interaction between Mahasu and his followers does not go smoothly because the followers are uncomfortable with the solutions Mahasu has offered. In these cases Mahasu may respond in such a way that the villager will eventually be satisfied with the meeting, as can be seen in the following case. Two men, a woman, and a girl came to consult (Botha) Mahasu in Hanol. One of the problems that troubled them was the girl’s mental distress. While the four of them were sat on the ground in front of the mali, the girl began to breathe heavily, shaking her head so that her hair became disheveled and moving her body repetitively. For a few seconds she was possessed by a spirit. When the spirit left and she had calmed down, her father addressed Mahasu: Father: She remains sick all the time. We have taken her to many places to cure her, we have taken her to big-big hospitals, but we don’t know what her disease is, and she is not getting well. Mahasu: Do one thing! (addressing the girl) You have problems with your heartbeat and also physical problems. You must be having headache problems also. And you also must be getting bad dreams.

182 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Mother: So, but we have offered everything to get rid of this like we have done prayers. Mahasu: Yes, I know what prayers have been offered. Mother: So now what can be done? Mahasu: I will give you relief today. Mother: Relief is required. Mahasu: I will give you relief. I will provide you with peace and happiness. Now what I am saying is that what is gone is gone. Now listen to me, today, for her, you are looking for relief and comfort. Father: We have performed various tests on her, but of no use. Mahasu: I have already told you about it. I am saying that sometimes she is absolutely fine. Father: Yes, that’s true. Mahasu: And sometimes she behaves extremely abnormally. Father: Yes, there is definitely something behind this. But what is the reason behind it?

At this point Mahasu told the family that the problem was caused by masan, the possession of the body of a living person by a deceased person’s spirit. The family told Mahasu that they had done puja to remove it, but with no success. Father: So what’s the reason for that? We did a treatment for it once. But she was not cured. Mahasu: My grace was always upon you. But today, I am going to close this thing forever. I will close it. So, you go to the doctor, who relieves you from pain. Father: We should get relieved. Mother: You are our doctor and devta. Father: Because doctor can’t do anything in this case. Mahasu: Anyways, I say, listen to me. Father: Only a devta can treat this. Mahasu: So, I say whatever it is. There are certain problems. Father: But this is not a disease. Mahasu: A doctor is also a god (Doctor bhi ek bhagwan hai). A doctor looks after every vein, pain, and each and everything. But this vein is different. This vein is different. Mother: So just treat this vein. Father: This is a regular problem.

Communicating with Mahasu

183

Mahasu: So, the regular problem, what you are saying, I will treat this. I will treat this myself. Let me see the rice grains. (addressing the girl) Take these grains. Will you wear the grains amulet or not? Girl: I will wear it. Mahasu: So when you wear it, do one thing, at dusk, remove this amulet at dusk from your body. Mother: Remove it at dusk or night. Mahasu: Remove it at dusk. And wear it again at dawn. All right. This will give you relief.

As can be seen, Mahasu’s diagnosis satisfied the group. But the solution he suggested—going to a doctor—displeased them. Mahasu tried to persuade them to seek out biomedical help (“Doctor is also a god”) but to no avail. Since the parents insisted that Mahasu provide some treatment for the girl, he asked her to carry a handful of rice with her at all times. Thus, negotiations between the villagers and Mahasu about the correct treatment ended to the satisfaction of the whole group. Elsewhere, in the context of Judaism in Israel, I have made a distinction between ordinary healing and deep healing.36 Ordinary healing is generic, applied uniformly to everyone, like a rabbi’s blessing in Judaism or puja in Hinduism. Deep healing, however, is linked with more complex performances of ritual healing, in which healing relies on negotiations between the healer and the patient and/or additional social elements. Ultimately, the healing is tailored to the nature of the patient. Treatment by Mahasu is also related to interactions between Mahasu and the patient and can be described as deep healing. As we can see, Mahasu usually offers a suitable diagnosis and a solution for those who come to him. He is also, to some extent, open to negotiation. This conversation also demonstrates how Mahasu relates to Western biomedicine. The deities in the Western Himalayas are required to retain their charisma even in the face of competing systems of knowledge such as Western medicine.37 One way to do this is to cooperate with them. Indeed, in other places in South Asia, psychological, medical, and scientific-rational discourse also plays a role in traditional healing.38 In the case of Mahasu, cooperation with Western medicine mainly takes the form of Mahasu 36 Sharabi, 2014; Guzmen-Carmeli and Sharabi, 2019. 37 See also Bindi, 2012. 38 Dein, Alexander, and Napier 2008; Ranganathan, 2017.

184 

The Biogr aphy of a God

referring the patient for biomedical treatment. By claiming that there are problems that only biomedical doctors can solve (greh), Mahasu shares his healing abilities with the scientific world. Moreover, Mahasu can use the biomedical diagnosis to reinforce the diagnostic dimension.39 Thus it appears that, at least in some cases, the existence of biomedicine does not lessen the importance of Mahasu as a healer—indeed, it is the opposite. Mahasu operates in areas where Western medicine does not provide adequate relief, especially with mental problems. The last example, below, did not have a successful ending. As mentioned above, if a meeting has no satisfying results, the villager can always approach Mahasu again. Such was the case for Vinod, a forty-five-year-old man who came to see (Botha) Mahasu in Hanol several times. His problem was an ongoing dispute with his family, mostly over a land issue. His previous meetings with Mahasu had not yielded any solutions so he went to Hanol to converse with Mahasu one more time: Mahasu: What worries you? Why do you blame the devta? Vinod: Devta, you are the one who protects us; you know everything. I do not know anything; you only tell me all. You tell me what to do? I will offer the devta whatever it says today. Mahasu: You are chicken-hearted (your heart is very weak). I don’t want your gold or silver. Vinod: Yes, maharaj. Mahasu: You have listened a lot and you have also gone through a lot of suffering. And I have even told you, what I wanted to tell you. And you also know that whatever I have given you is protecting you but this quarrel (rar) has not stopped. Vinod: You tell me what to do maharaj? Mahasu: With them you have chinga (no talking). I have kept you aside and have saved you from it. I have cornered you from all these too. You stay away from that line, that is to stay out of that line and follow my words. The rest is like this—as you sow, so shall you reap. Vinod: But there is a lot of trouble, devta. Mahasu: Yes, they tortured you so much. But I have given you the blessings and offer you good times too. Vinod: That’s right maharaj, but what to do? Mahasu: Pray that god may bless you with knowledge and show the right path, and the rest I will fix. 39 See also Joshi, 2010.

Communicating with Mahasu

185

Mahasu gave Vinod blessed rice and his shakti (divine power) disappeared. The mali got up and went to smoke. Vinod remained seated, frustrated. He gazed at a spot in the air and slowly stood up. Yes, encounters with gods can be frustrating. Devtas can provide comfort and resolutions to problems, but they can also leave their followers at a dead end. Ostensibly, interacting with deities without intermediaries such as priests can be an attractive option. However, a face-to-face conversation in which the deity does not provide a solution can leave the believer deeply disappointed, as in the case of Vinod. On the surface, this would seem to be because there is no mediator (such as a priest) who can be accused of inefficient mediation (thereby sparing the deity from doubt). However, in interactions with Mahasu, there is indeed a mediator—the mali who acts as a medium. In the next section I discuss how questions arise in connection with this form of mediation.

Testing Mediums For nearly two weeks, a young Brahmin named Amit had been suffering from fever and vomiting. His parents were at a loss as to why his condition did not improve, despite the fact that he had been hospitalized. When his parents consulted with Botha Mahasu by means of a medium, it transpired that Amit had recently eaten chicken, and was now being punished. The consumption of chicken is not common among the upper castes in the region, especially for a Brahmin like Amit who serves as the priest (pujari) of Chhavni (one of Mahasu’s birs). When his parents asked whether he had eaten chicken, he recalled that he recently attended the wedding of a friend, where he ate pakora (a spiced fritter). It then transpired, to his chagrin, that it was actually chicken pakora. After giving puja to Mahasu, Amit recovered. As far as he was concerned, not only was his story a testament to Mahasu’s ability to solve medical problems, but it was also evidence of the existence of true mediums, since his parents had not revealed to the medium why they wished to speak with Mahasu. Through the practice of gatti, they tested the medium to check whether the god was indeed speaking through him. 40 Only the god could have known, without being told, that they had 40 The villagers in different parts of Mahasu’s territory pronounce this word differently. The most common pronunciation is gaḍḍī, hence I write gatti. The word is used when talking with Mahasu and other devtas in the region and is rarely used in other contexts. In other places, the word gatti means keeping things together in one place (in Bangan region), or a little hard thing, like a little stone (in Theog region).

186 

The Biogr aphy of a God

turned to him because of their son’s illness, and that it had been caused by something he had eaten. The practice of gatti lies at the heart of the encounter between mediums and villagers. As part of this practice the locals present Mahasu with several options, usually in the form of piles of rice. Each pile represents an option. The options could be problems in life, such as a physical ailment, a land dispute, livelihood diff iculties, mental problems in the family, and so on. Sometimes the rice pile doesn’t represent anything. “It’s like multiple choice questions,” one local joked, “there is only one correct answer.” The villagers do not reveal to Mahasu what each heap represents (or does not represent). It is up to him to indicate the specific ailment that is troubling the supplicants. An example of the gatti process that I recorded in Hanol concerns three women from one family who came to talk with (Botha) Mahasu about their problems. They felt a general sense of unease and had the suspicion that some people in their village might have caused them harm. Mahasu, through his mali, determined decisively: “This is not a dosh (curse) of any villager; it is a family matter.” The eldest woman wanted to know more about the problem in the family: “What is it? Is it some evil eye (nazar) or some curse (dosh)? It should not be an evil eye.” At this point the mali threw rice grains towards the women as a signal for them to make a gatti, and turned his back to them. 41 The women then divided the rice into three separate piles, representing three persons the women thought might have taken evil actions against them. They whispered amongst themselves to decide which pile of rice represented each person, so that Mahasu would not hear. They concluded that the left gatti represented a dispute with the village people (gaon ka dosha), the middle gatti represented a woman (kanya) whose identity they did not disclose, and the right gatti represented a mother-in-law (sas ki dosha). The eldest woman then turned to the mali and said, “Devta, guide us.” The mali turned his body towards the women and pointed to the gatti representing the mother-in-law by throwing rice grains at it, saying: “This one has done bad things for you.” Then the conversation continued: Eldest woman: Devta! This is my mother-in-law. She has troubled us in every aspect of life. What to do now? Mali: Yes this is her. Elder woman: She troubles me a lot. 41 In this section I do not refer to the mali as Mahasu as in previous sections, because here the epistemological status of the medium is under debate.

Communicating with Mahasu

187

Mali: She has an evil eye. She has mastered some knowledge (gyan). She has gained extreme knowledge. Even this lady (throwing rice toward the heap of the kanya) is cunning. This woman is equally cunning. Younger woman: Yes, even this lady is not less. What do we do now? This has become a problem now. Mali: (saying loudly) Even she is not less [cunning]. Even she is not less [cunning]. Even she is not less [cunning]. Do you understand? But the thing is, now when you have come to see me today, I will give the details of this, and this dosha, it’s [because of a] rar (quarrel). I will stop this evil eye. Elder Woman: Okay. Give us vichaar (lit. thought; please guide us).

At this point Mahasu promised the women that he would solve all their problems and eradicate the quarrel. The eldest woman replied: “Hail to you bhagwan (God), we are at your mercy. Hail to you maharaj (great king).” She then asked him to bless her children with offspring. Mahasu gave the women rice, and concluded: “I have showered my blessings in the past and will continue the same. Once this evil eye is gone, once this thought (vichaar) is gone, I will bless you with everything. I will bless with all the success; I will bless with offspring; I will take care of everything. My blessings are with you.” In this episode, the women sought to ascertain who was causing their problems. It could be argued that the gatti is a verification tool by which the villagers can confirm their suspicions. In this case the women had their suspicions and wanted to verify them. However, the gatti system is not only a verification tool for the locals, but also a system that can verify the credibility of the mali and the authentication of the conversation with Mahasu. Evidence for this can be seen in the way the women whispered as they decided what each pile of rice represented while the mali had his back turned. Moreover, in many cases, one of the piles of rice does not represent anything. If the villagers only want to verify their suspicions, why put out an empty gatti? Finally, the villagers themselves sometimes claim that the reason for the gatti practice is to test the mali. The villagers claim that the practice of gatti is designed to “confirm” that they are actually being addressed by Mahasu and not by the mali himself. For example, one local from Balsa explained the gatti practice as follows: Gatti is if you have doubt. Suppose you doubt whether the mali is doing fraud or not. So the person will try to judge the truth by way of putting gatti. Sometimes we place it (gatti) again if we want to make sure. I can even change or reverse the gattis too. And if the same gatti is chosen by devta twice, then it is confirmed that the mali is telling right.

188 

The Biogr aphy of a God

The practice of gatti, then, tests the agency of the devta as an epistemological problem—that is, the question is not whether the devta exists or whether the devta can speak with his followers through the mali in principle, but rather whether the devta is speaking through the voice of the mali in a specific episode. There are even cases in which gatti is practiced purely to test the mali. In 2017, a father and his two grown sons came to the temple in Hanol to speak with (Botha) Mahasu. They were particularly concerned about financial problems in their extended family. The conversation between the three men and Mahasu began as follows: Father: Oh Mahasu devta, please keep unity in my family. Mali: I have kept. I, Mahasu devta have not kept deficit for anything. Father: (while putting gatti) Okay. (the mali selects a gatti) Younger brother: Botha Mahasu, this is [the] right [gatti]. But now you must do something. I want your shelter also.

In this example, the father opened the conversation with the practice of gatti. The mali chose the correct one from the three piles. After his conversation with the mali, the father told me that the correct pile represented problems in the family’s destiny. What concerned the three men was not whether the mali knew the precise problem for which they had come to speak with Mahasu, but whether he could identify the correct pile. This is indeed what happened. A conversation with Mahasu through a mali is a delicate dance of negotiations about the details the mali is required to know with regard to gatti. The villagers are not always satisfied when the mali chooses the correct pile. Sometimes they want to see if he knows the specific problem that pile of rice represents, as we can see from the next example. A pujari in a village in the Jubbal region was in a dispute with the temple officials (kardars). Since he was old and sick, he quit his position as pujari. Several months later he traveled to the main temple of Mahasu in Hanol to inquire whether he had acted correctly by leaving his position. Towards the end of the conversation, after agreeing with (Botha) Mahasu’s answers regarding his resignation from the post of pujari, he asked to conduct the gatti. Seeing that the pujari’s son and another villager had accompanied him, the mali turned his back while the three arranged the gatti, preparing three small piles of rice and deciding between them which pile was the correct one. After turning around, the mali was asked the following by the pujari: Pujari: Oh devta, I have put up gatti, kindly select only one gatti. Mali: (selecting one gatti) What do you want?

Communicating with Mahasu

189

Image 23  Gatti in action

Photo by Asaf Sharabi

Pujari: You tell me—you have selected the gatti. You can say it loudly too. There is nothing difficult for you. I’ll worship you next month. Kindly grant me peace. Mali: I gave you, whatever you asked for I gave you. Now you don’t delay in my worship. Devotees together: We will not do so.

In this episode the mali chose the correct pile but did not say what it signified. The pujari tried to press him gently, asking what it meant, but swiftly backed down, asking instead for peace and tranquility in his life, especially regarding his dispute with the villagers he had served for nearly thirty years. When the pujari said “You can say it loudly too. There is nothing difficult for you,” was he referring to the mali himself or the devta? In other words, whose agency was he trying to challenge? Was it a challenge to the mali in his role as a medium, or had the mali already passed the “test” when he identified the correct pile, and the pujari was now seeking more cooperation from Mahasu himself? It seems, from what ensued, that the appeal for peace was made to Mahasu. Sometimes the gatti is repeated several times. For example, in the first round the mali may indicate that the problem is medical, and the second round of the gatti may present him with several possible medical problems. An example of this method, recorded in Hanol, involved a family that

190 

The Biogr aphy of a God

approached (Botha) Mahasu because the girl suffered from occasional possession by evil spirits.42 The family came to Mahasu with a mali of Pokhu, because they thought that as their kul devta (family god) he may be the cause of their problem. At the beginning of the conversation, Mahasu, through his mali, told the family that he would turn his back so “you can judge my skills” with a gatti practice. The mother of the girl told him “Hey devta, who are we to test your skills? Just tell us what you know by yourself.” Mahasu insisted and said: “No, no! you just satisfy your mind.” The father of the girl started to make piles of rice and told the mali of Pokhu (who was not possessed at the time) what each pile of rice represented: “The first pile is for a curse (dosh), the second gatti for evil eye, the third gatti for health concerns, and the fourth gatti for flaws in thoughts.” When they finished preparing the piles of rice, the mother told Mahasu, “Devta, just see. We are through with making gatti. Now tell us.” Mahasu then pointed towards the gatti with the dosh and said—“This is the one.” The father nodded his head and said “This is right,” while the mother asked for more information. Mahasu told the parents that they can ask their kul devta (family god) for more details about the dosh of their child. But instead of entering a state of possession, the mali of Pokhu again arranged heaps of rice with the father of the girl. While the mali of Mahasu turned his back, the mali of Pokhu told the father: “The first gatti, the girl will be benefited ( fayda hoga—will be free from the curse), the second gatti, the girl will not be benefited (the girl will have a curse), and the third gatti is empty (has no impact).” The mother called Mahasu: “Hey devta! See, the gattis are in place.” The mali of Mahasu turned to the family and removed the gatti that was considered empty, saying “These (the other two gattis) are two gattis where the fault is.” The mother wanted to know which of the two gattis Mahasu would choose, but instead of choosing, Mahasu asked them to again make the gattis. The Pokhu mali again made the piles of rice while the Mahasu mali turned his back. He told the father of the girl: “The first gatti will benefit, there will be no benefit in the second gatti, and third gatti is empty.” After turning back, Mahasu picked the second gatti, where the dosh (curse) was present. The mother asked again for more information about the dosh, and Mahasu once again told the family that they should ask their kul devta, because he is responsible for this dosh. Then the mali of Pokhu, for the first time, started to speak as Pokhu. In this episode, which lasted eleven minutes, the family used gatti three times. The first time, Mahasu, through his mali, wanted them to create a gatti to mark the authenticity of the performance. The second and third times, 42 I presented this case in a previous chapter.

Communicating with Mahasu

191

the gatti was performed in collaboration with the mali of Pokhu devta. The second time Mahasu removed the empty gatti and the third time he pointed to the gatti with the dosh. All three gattis established the authenticity of the conversation between Mahasu and the family, and made it clear that the girl was suffering from a curse. When the mali of Pokhu started to be possessed, he revealed that the source of the curse was a land dispute. In this episode, Mahasu offered to “test” his “skills” with gatti. And indeed, sometimes Mahasu suggests practicing gatti, but it is more often suggested by the villagers. On rare occasions the mali may not welcome the practice of gatti. Rohit, a prominent mali of Chalda in the Jubbal region, is known to become angry when tested. Once I saw him raise his voice when two men asked for a gatti, saying: “You do not believe that I am Mahasu?!” The two men, a bit scared, stopped asking for a gatti. Sometimes the situation of choosing the correct gatti becomes tense. In a case I witnessed in Hanol, a couple came to (Botha) Mahasu with their son to inquire about their son’s health problems. This was not their first visit. On previous occasions, Mahasu had identified a man in their extended family who cast an evil eye on their son. When the couple came again, Mahasu immediately suggested placing a gatti. After the couple had done so, Mahasu looked at the rice piles and lingered over his choice. The man said: “Don’t go in a reverse direction, maharaj. I came to you before, and even then, you had suggested measures.” Mahasu was incensed by the man’s words: Mali: Why would I go in a reverse direction? Man: You have not yet selected any gatti, maharaj! Mali: It is nothing for me. Man: Yes, maharaj, you have previously benefited us as well. So even today, please check our concern and get us rid of it. Mali: Do you think there are three curves (three gattis) so I cannot solve it? Man: You know everything, maharaj. Mali: If I get angry, then nobody can prove it for twelve years and I do not leave anybody until eighteen years. Man: My deva! Please don’t make any trouble for us. Mali: I am such a devta that I am a sinner with a sinner and a righteous with a righteous one.

The man then pointed to the gatti that represented the family member who caused the problem and said: “Maharaj, he is the person who brought the sign of sin. That time you gave us relief from that. You provided the solution to those problems, and they never came back again.” Mahasu replied: “I support

192 

The Biogr aphy of a God

dharma (righteousness). I knew what is in it (what the gatti represents).” From that moment, things calmed down. They continued talking for several minutes and Mahasu promised to protect the son and take care of the family. In cases where the mali chooses the wrong heap of rice, it doesn’t necessarily mean that the devotees assume he is an imposter. In the eyes of the locals, the mali’s failure to choose correctly may indicate that Mahasu is perhaps making fun of them or even making fun of the mali. In the first instance, it is assumed that Mahasu has some reason for teasing his believers. In the second instance, this may be due to improper behavior in the mali’s everyday life, such as drinking alcohol or eating eggs and chicken. One way or another, a gatti failing does not necessarily solve the epistemological problem, but instead adds to the confusion. For example, a local from jubbal region named Dinesh wanted to know whether the curse (dosh) and the evil eye (buri nazar) that had afflicted him and his house had been lifted, so he went to see a mali from a nearby village. After (Botha) Mahasu reassured Dinesh that the curse and the evil eye had been lifted from him and his household, Dinesh suggested applying the gatti: Dinesh: Oh lord! Now I want to put gatti. Mali: Yes, yes, why not! (Dinesh arranges three piles of rice, representing three different gattis. The mali chooses one and turns to Dinesh.) Mali: I have selected this gatti in which you have desired to sell this house or property. But it all depends upon your wish. Dinesh: But devta, the gatti chosen by you was empty! It means I have not kept any desire in it. Mali: It means you don’t have any kind of dosh (curse). So you should not worry now.

In this case Dinesh did not think the gatti chosen by the mali was the correct one—the gatti relating to his home; the mali had actually chosen an empty gatti. When Dinesh drew the mali’s attention to this, the mali responded that it was the correct gatti, because the empty gatti signified the fact that there is no curse or evil eye upon him and his household. Dinesh accepted this explanation for the mali’s failure to choose the correct gatti. The gatti enables a devotee to obtain a response for his/her epistemological question—Am I really talking to Mahasu?—either through choosing the correct rice pile, or determining what request has been symbolically made through the rice heap. When the mali fails in one or both of the tests, the locals have the option to challenge his decision, his diagnosis

Communicating with Mahasu

193

of their problems, or his method of solving them. “He doesn’t speak the truth” is a common statement made by locals who have had an experience with a mali that did not have a positive outcome. Naresh, a young teacher, consulted a famous mali three times about a medical problem. Each time, the mali maintained that the problem lay in the fact that Naresh did not have sufficient belief in the devtas. Naresh repeatedly rejected this diagnosis, finally deciding to meet another mali who told him something that seemed acceptable—that he was suffering from a curse. On the other hand, as demonstrated in the previous instance, where the mali did not choose the correct pile of rice, not every failure results in epistemological confusion. Thus, to a great extent, the gatti makes it possible not only to determine whether the deity is present in a state of possession, but also to challenge the agency of the deity and negotiate about his existence and his message. Caroline Humphrey and James Laidlaw make a distinction between liturgy-centered rituals (for example, puja) and performance-centered rituals (for example, spirit possession). 43 While the former is “strongly” ritualized, the latter is “weakly” ritualized. As Claus Peter Zoller argues, in performance-centered rituals “[t]here are almost always elements of doubt: is the performer qualified or a sham, is his trance genuine or pretended?”44 Indeed, as Daniela Berti and Gilles Tarabout mention, it is not unusual for doubt and suspicion to flourish in the case of possession, so that the question of authenticity arises.45 Doubt about the presence of devtas during mediumship rituals is also expressed in other parts of the Himalayas, where there are other techniques to overcome it. In the Kullu valley, for example, they use a similar technique to the gatti system. They use three stones (ore pogre), each representing a possible cause of the problem—witchcraft, a ghost (bhut), bad planets, etc. 46 In addition, at the beginning of the conversation with the devta, the medium gives small handfuls of rice to the participant without counting the grain. An even number of grains represents doubt and those who receive it ask for more handfuls of rice until they have an odd number. What is interesting in this case is that doubt is considered to be beyond the person’s will. Thus, as Daniela Berti claims, “the procedure of taking the grains of rice is meant not only ‘to check’ whether the person harbours some doubts, but ‘to make’ him not have any.”47 43 44 45 46 47

Humphrey and Laidlaw, 1994: 8. Zoller, 2004: 40–41. Berti and Tarabout, 2010. Berti, 2016. Berti, 2016: 23.

194 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Image 24  Gatti in action

Photo by Asaf Sharabi

The issue of conversing with the gods and having doubts is not limited to the people of the Himalayas or to Hinduism. For example, Tanya Luhrmann describes how Evangelical Christians “speak” to God. In the absence of mediums, communication is achieved in different ways, through prayer, repeated circumstances and patterns, reading the Bible, and dreams. 48 Believers learn how to recognize the word of God or His will. Luhrmann identifies a number of tests that are used. First, the devotee determines whether the divine message is something they would not have thought of themselves; second, whether it is a message that could have come from the divinity. For example, if the believer hears an instruction to harm himself or others, it cannot be the word of God. Third, whether it is a message that others have received, then it is truly God’s word. Fourth, whether the believer feels serene after receiving the message. Indeed, some believers report that not only do they identify messages from God as an inner sense, but they also actually hear His voice. Nevertheless, says Luhrmann, “[t]he more you believe that it is possible to experience God directly, the more uncertainty you invite about any particular claim to God’s presence.”49 The problem Evangelical Christians contend with is imagining that God has a persona. When people converse, they move, they touch, they make physical gestures, they copy facial expressions. The problem with the 48 Luhrmann, 2012. 49 Luhrmann, 2012: 70.

195

Communicating with Mahasu

Christian God is He cannot be seen or tested. He does not sigh or make any sound to indicate that He is listening. One solution to the problem is to use imagination—“let’s pretend.” In other words, to imagine that He is present in our lives, that He is our closest friend, that it is possible to consult with Him on matters great and small, that a believer can share a “date night.” In this way, intimate contact with God can be sustained twenty-four hours a day. Communication with the deities in the Western Himalayas is much more immediate than that described by Luhrmann, since the devtas are embodied by human mediums. A conversation with a devta therefore resembles a conversation between people. Unlike the experience described by Luhrmann, in the Western Himalayas there is a clear distinction between time spent conversing with the deities and times when one is not speaking with them. It thus appears to be more important to ascertain whether the devta is actually present in the conversation when a believer is conversing with him through the medium. Consequently, whereas for those interviewed by Luhrmann the effort is internal-conscious—knowing how to individually form intimate ties with God—for locals in the Western Himalayas the goal is to identify authentic mediums and an authentic experience of mediumship. In other words, in the Western Himalayas the question of the agency of the gods is transferred through human mediation. The advantage is that the intermediaries can be blamed should the believer be dissatisfied with the message of the gods. In other words, the agency of the gods is open to challenge and negotiation when it is mediated by a medium. *** Anthropologists who research religious phenomena often face an ontological dilemma regarding the existence of the gods, and to address this issue several different methodological strategies have been formulated for use in anthropological research.50 Although Mahasu’s followers do not raise ontological questions about the existence of the gods, they do have epistemological questions. In other words, they seek to ascertain whether they are indeed communicating with the gods when speaking with them through mediums. This is tangibly expressed in the practice of gatti, which enables them to test whether the deity is indeed speaking through the medium, whether the medium is an imposter, or whether it is an inauthentic state of possession. This consideration enables the locals to examine not only the medium but also the words spoken through him. Sometimes they are dissatisfied 50 Bielo, 2015: 29–44.

196 

The Biogr aphy of a God

with what they hear from the deities through the medium. In such cases the words of the deity may be attributed to the mediums themselves, and they view the mediumship as inauthentic. While this challenges the authenticity of the mediums, it can also be seen as challenging the agency of the gods and negotiations about the message the locals are prepared to accept from the gods.

Bibliography Anand, Mily Roy. 2006. “Understanding the Socio-cultural Experiences of Pahari Folk: The Jagar Gathas of Kumaon and Garhwal.” Indian Folklore Research Journal 3 (6): 93–103. Berreman, Gerald D. 1964. “Brahmins and Shamans in Pahari Religion.” The Journal of Asian Studies 23: 53–69. Berti, Daniela. 2016. “Technicalities of Doubting: Temple Consultations and Criminal Trials in India.” In Of Doubt and Proof: Ritual and Legal Practices of Judgment, edited by Daniela Berti, Anthony Good, and Gilles Tarabout, 19–38. London and New York: Routledge. Berti, Daniela. 2022. “Possession, Communication and Power in India.” In Spirit Possession: Multidisciplinary Approaches to a Worldwide Phenomenon, edited by Eva Pocs and Andras Zempleni. Budapest and New York: Central European University Press. Berti, Daniela, and Gilles Tarabout. 2010. “Possession.” In Dictionnaire des faits religieux, edited by Hervieu-Leger Daniele and Azria Regine, 941–947. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France. Bhatt, G.S. 2010. Cult, Religion and Society: Polyandrous People of Western Himalaya. India: Rawat Publications. Bielo, James S. 2015. Anthropology of Religion: The Basics. New York: Routledge. Bindi, Serena. 2012. “When There Were Only Gods, Then There Was No Disease, No Need for Doctors: Weakening Bodies and Forsaken Deities in the Indian Himalayas.” Anthropology and Medicine 19 (1): 85–94. Bindi, Serena. 2022. “Exorcising angry deities and spirits of the dead: Spiritual and earthly battles of married women in Uttarakhand (India).” Social Compass 1-28. Boddy, Janice. 1988. “Spirits and Selves in Northern Sudan: The Cultural Therapeutics of Possession and Trance.” American Ethnologist 15 (1): 4–27. Bourdieu, Pierre. 1987. “Legitimation and Structured Interests in Weber’s Sociology of Religion.” In Max Weber: Rationality and Modernity, edited by Sam Whimster and Scott Lash, 119–136. London and Boston: Allen and Unwin. Campbell, J. Gabriel. 1978. “Consultations with Himalayan Gods: A Study of Oracular Religion and Alternative Values in Hindu Jumla.” PhD dissertation, Columbia University.

Communicating with Mahasu

197

Clart, Philip. 2003. “Moral Mediums: Spirit-Writing and the Cultural Construction of Chinese Spirit-Mediumship.” Ethnologies 25 (1): 153–189. DeBernardi, Jean Elizabeth. 2006. The Way that Lives in the Heart: Chinese Popular Religion and Spirit Mediums in Penang, Malaysia. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press. Dein, Simon, Malcolm Alexander, and A. David Napier. 2008. “Jinn, Psychiatry and Contested Notions of Misfortune among East London Bangladeshis.” Transcultural Psychiatry 45 (1): 31–55. Evans-Pritchard, E.E. 1972 (1937). Witchcraft Oracles, and Magic among the Azande. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Favret-Saada, Jeanne. 1980. Deadly Words: Witchcraft in the Bocage. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Gaborieau, Marc. 1976. “Preliminary Note on the God Masta.” In Spirit Possession in the Nepal Himalayas, edited by John T. Hitchock and Rex L. Jones, 217–243. Warmintser: Aris and Phillips. Guzmen-Carmeli, Shlomo, and Asaf Sharabi. 2019. “Textual Healing: Tailor-Made Kabbalistic Therapeutics in Jerusalem.” Anthropology and Medicine 26 (2): 244–258. Humphrey, Caroline, and James Laidlaw. 1994. The Archetypal Actions of Ritual: A Theory of Ritual Illustrated by the Jain Rite of Worship. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Joshi, P.C. 2004. “The World of Tribal Healers.” In Tribal Health and Medicines, edited by Aloke Kumar Kalla and P.C. Joshi, 202–241. Delhi: Concept Publishing Company. Joshi, P.C. 2010. “Psychotherapeutic Elements in Shamanistic Healing in the Context of Himalayan Traditions.” Delhi Psychiatry Journal 13 (2): 254–257. Krengel, Monika. 1999. “Spirit Possession in the Central Himalaya. Jagar Rituals: An Expression of Customs and Rights.” In La possession en Asie du Sud: Paroles, corps, territoires, edited by Jackie Assayag and Gilles Tarabout, 265–288. Paris: EHESS. Lambek, Michael. 1981. Human Spirits: A Cultural Account of Trance in Mayotte. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Leavitt, John. 1997. “The Language of the Gods: Craft and Inspiration in Central Himalayan Ritual Discourse.” In Poetry and Prophecy: The Anthropology of Inspiration, edited by John Leavitt, 129–168. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press. Leavitt, John. 2016. “Authoritative Modes of Speech in a Central Himalayan Ritual.” Oral Tradition 30 (2): 195–210. Lecomte-Tilouine, Marie. 2009. “The Social Dimension of Himalayan Mediumism.” In Bards and Mediums: History, Culture and Politics in the Central Himalayan Kingdoms, edited by Marie Lecomte-Tilouine, 29–54. Almora: Almora Book Depot. Luhrmann, Tanya M. 2012. When God Talks Back: Understanding the American Evangelical Relationship with God. New York: Vintage Books.

198 

The Biogr aphy of a God

Malik, Aditya. 2016. Tales of Justice and Rituals of Divine Embodiment: Oral Narratives from the Central Himalayas. New York: Oxford University Press. Masquelier, Adeline. 2002. “From Hostage to Host: Confessions of a Spirit Medium in Niger.” Ethos 30 (1): 49–76. Pierini, Emily. 2016. “Becoming a Spirit Medium: Initiatory Learning and the Self in the Vale do Amanhecer.” Ethnos 81 (2): 290–314. Ranganathan, Shubha. 2017. “‘God’s Hospitals’ with ‘No Superstition!’ On the place of Healing Shrines in Contemporary India.” In Medical Anthropology: Tradition and Change, edited by B.V. Sharma, 69–82. New Delhi: Concept. Sax, William. 2004. “Healing Rituals: A Critical Performative Approach.” Anthropology and Medicine 11 (3): 293–306. Sax, William. 2009. God of Justice: Ritual Healing and Social Justice in the Central Himalayas. New York: Oxford University Press. Sered, Susan S. 2005. “Healing as Resistance: Reflections upon New Forms of American Jewish Healing.” In Religion and Healing in America, edited by Linda L. Barnes and Susan S. Sered, 231–252. New York: Oxford University Press. Sharabi, Asaf. 2014. “Deep Healing: Ritual Healing in the Teshuvah Movement.” Anthropology and Medicine 21 (3): 277–289. Sharabi, Asaf. 2021. “The Politics of Madness and Spirit Possession in Northern India.” Medical Anthropology 40 (2): 182–195. Sharabi, Asaf, and Hagar Shalev. 2018. “Charismatic Mediumship and Traditional Priesthood: Power Relations in a Religious Field.” Religion 48 (2): 198–214. Turner, Victor W. 1967. The forest of symbols: Aspects of Ndembu ritual. Ithaca: Cornell University Press Utter, Hans. 2010. Trance, Ritual and Rhythm: The Cult of Mahasu Deota in the Western Himalayas. Delhi: B.R. Rhythms. Weber, Max. 1948. From Max Weber: Essays in Sociology. Padstow, Cornwall: TJI Digital. Weber, Max. 1978. Economy and Society. Berkeley: University of California Press. Wessinger, Catherine. 2012. “Charismatic Leaders in New Religions.” In The Cambridge Companion to New Religious Movements, edited by Olav Hammer and Mikael Rothstein, 80– 96. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Xiong, Phua et al. 2005. “Hmong Shamanism: Animist Spiritual Healing in America’s Urban Heartland.” In Religion and Healing in America, edited by Linda L. Barnes and Susan S. Sered, 439–454. New York: Oxford University Press. Zoller, Claus Peter. 2004. “Kabir and Ritualized Language.” Acta Orientalia 65 (1): 33–68.



Agency, Doubt, Mediation

The identity of the Mahasu brothers is slowly evolving from Pahari to pan-Indian. This change in identity is reflected in the deities’ switch to a vegetarian diet; the spread of a more abstract concept of divinity; the deepening identification of Mahasu with the pan-South Asian pantheon of Hindu gods; the transition from an aggressive to a calmer character; and the decline in the practice of roaming. Each of these changes is evident at the ritual, mythological, and conceptual levels. This provides us with the opportunity to examine who is responsible for the change in Mahasu’s identity—is it Mahasu or the people who worship him? This question is focused on the apparent gap between believers’ and anthropologists’ perceptions of the gods. While believers see gods as autonomous entities responsible for their own fate and that of humans, many ethnographers are in a quandary about the actual existence of the gods. In this book I have sought to demonstrate that the gap between the point of view of anthropologists and those they study—often termed the etic and emic perspectives—is smaller than scholars tend to realize. This can be seen in two points. First, although Mahasu followers do not face an ontological dilemma regarding the existence of the gods, as some anthropologists do, they certainly face epistemological dilemmas about them. That is, they wonder whether they are actually speaking to Mahasu when they communicate with him through mediums. The second point relates to the question of the agency of Mahasu and other gods. In this book I have demonstrated that the research participants, like the anthropologists who study them, are aware of the dominance of humans in the decisions of the gods. For example, they state that human beings have also been involved in the decision to stop the custom of animal sacrifices. Thus the concept of distributed agency—the idea that agency does not belong to one individual, but is instead shared by a multiplicity of people, objects, and other entities—is a more adequate description of actions like the cessation of animal sacrifices. The idea of “distributed agency” has traction in the current research literature regarding agency, and thus this concept is shared by both the anthropologists and the people

Sharabi, A., The Biography of a God: Mahasu in the Himalayas. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press 2023 doi: 10.5117/9789463726658_conc

200 

The Biogr aphy of a God

they study. The idea of distributed agency also enables researchers (as well as the research participants) to attribute agency to a deity (which is usually considered an emic point of view) without ignoring the social structures and power relations that are present in the religious experience (usually considered an etic point of view). Not only do these two points—the ontological/epistemological issue and the agency of the gods—indicate that there is a smaller gap between locals’ and anthropologists’ perceptions of divinity than previously assumed, but they also enable us to address two important and current discussions in the anthropology of religion: doubt and mediation. Let me start with the question of doubt. The meeting between believers and Mahasu invites us to question the place of doubt in their lives. For Mahasu’s adherents there are three levels of doubt. First, is a particular medium really the means to communicate with Mahasu? Some mediums are not perceived as reliable mediators, either because in everyday life they do not behave in the manner that is expected of them (for example, they partake of alcoholic beverages), or because of continually faulty performances. Second, even if locals assume that a particular person can in principle function as a medium, they question whether a specific performance is authentic. The first two levels of doubt can be tested by means of the gatti practice. When the followers of Mahasu approach one of his mediums, they sometimes organize piles of rice, each representing an option such as a physical ailment, a land dispute, problems of livelihood, mental problems in the family, and so on. The medium should pick the pile of rice that is related to why the followers have approached Mahasu this time. By selecting the right pile, the followers of Mahasu can confirm that the medium—or at least this specific encounter with the medium—is authentic. The third level of doubt is more common among young people, who wonder whether the entire institution of mediumship is real or fraudulent. The phenomenon of doubt is widely discussed in theological and philosophical literature, but it hardly ever finds expression in anthropological literature.1 When it does, attention to religious skepticism is usually associated with someone leaving religion. In this context, doubt acts as a step between religiosity and secularism. For example, in a book about doubt among ultraOrthodox Jews, Ayala Fader distinguishes between “doubt that defines or refines faith,” and “life changing doubt.”2 While the first kind is relatively minor and a part of everyday uncertainties, the second kind dramatically 1 2

Pelkmans, 2013. Fader, 2020: 9–10.

Agenc y, Doubt, Mediation

201

troubles the doubting person and can even put an end to their belief. I seek to offer a similar distinction between two processes of doubt among religious people. The first is doubt at the ontological level, in which religious people question the existence of God. The second, doubt at the epistemological level, is where religious people doubt the mediating agents (religious experts, animal sacrifices, symbols, texts, and so on), but not the existence of the divine. In this book I have indicated that doubt is inherent in the lives of believers. As expressed in relation to Mahasu, doubt is rarely linked to the ontological question of the existence of the deity or the spirit world, but rather to the epistemological question of the mediation.3 Is it possible to communicate with Mahasu through mediums? Is this specific medium reliable? And is this specific performance of mediumship genuine? These questions about the mediums and their actions do not necessarily undermine religious belief; at most, they alter it. Those who do not believe in the institution of mediumship do not abandon their belief in the gods, but instead tend to emphasize pan-Indian elements in their religious belief and experience. In other words, undermining the institution of mediumship may connect the locals to the religious experience of India’s plains, strengthening their ties to the Brahminic-Puranic traditions. Concerns about the ability of the gods to be present with the aid of mediums bring us to the issue of religious mediation. Gods are not present in the same way that humans are present; they are present in the lives of believers by means of mediation through words, objects, and embodied performances. In the case of Mahasu, as in the case of many other gods in the region, there are three prominent types of mediation: sacrifices (bali), mediums (mali), and objects that move from place to place (palki and nishan). The issue of mediation is important, for both researchers and their subjects. 4 On the subject of religious sacrifice, Henri Hubert and Marcel Mauss have argued that the person who offers the sacrifice cannot approach the divine directly and therefore a mediator is required in the form of the sacrifice.5 Thanks to the sacrifice, the sacred and the profane can approach each other but still maintain their distance and avoid fusion. The bridge (sacrifice) is burned, preserving the distance between sacred and profane. Joel Robbins suggested that we should also read Hubert and Mauss’s theory as a normative statement: the individual (represented by the profane) and the society (represented by the sacred) must be connected but not engulfed 3 4 5

See also, Berti, 2016; Berti and Tarabout, 2010; Luhrmann, 2012. Meyer, 2011; Robbins, 2017. Hubert and Mauss, 1964.

202 

The Biogr aphy of a God

by one another. Another normative argument is that the person making the sacrifice requires mediation (the sacrifice) to maintain some distance from the divine. Without this safe distance the person will become divine and become unable to enjoy the profane world. In addition, withdrawal from the profane world can undermine the social order.6 Following Hubert and Mauss’s insights, Joel Robbins has reflected on the significance of the transition from a society accustomed to offering sacrifices to a society in which mediation happens through possession. In the case of the Urapmin, whom he studied, the transition was from sacrifices to possession by the Holy Spirit. Robbins points out that while in the case of sacrifices there is a victim who serves as mediator, “in possession the space between the deity and the person collapses, and co-presence replaces mediated contact.”7 According to Robbins, to preserve some of the distance between the human and the divine that exists when offering sacrifices, the Urapmin created complex forms of mediation—four mediation practices that involve possession between humans and the Holy Spirit. He notes that it was the Spirit women (one of the four practices) who served as mediums of the Holy Spirit that exhibited the greatest closeness between the human and the divine. They called for sacrifices to be offered in special cases, thus essentially maintaining a certain distance between the human and the divine. Mahasu’s adherents differ from the Urapmin described by Robbins in that communication with the devta happens through three major mediators: sacrifice, moving objects, and mediums. Robbins claims that sacrifices and mediums are two forms of mediation that allow different degrees of closeness to the divine: while sacrifices allow for a distance from the deity, mediumship, through the mali, allows the devotee to actually talk to him. How does this possibility of talking to Mahasu avoid collapsing the distance between deity and man and the fusion between them? Perhaps the answer to this question lies in the two points I raised earlier—the epistemological question and the question of the god’s agency. Gatti represents an epistemological dilemma regarding the authenticity of both the possession and the medium. Unlike in animal sacrifice, possession of the medium makes the deity dramatically present, thus bringing the deity very close to the profane. Perhaps it is because there is a need to maintain a distance between the sacred and the profane that it is necessary to challenge the mediation, to question it. This prevents the collapse of the distance between man and the deity and their fusion. The epistemological consideration allows 6 Robbins, 2017. 7 Robbins, 2017: 466.

Agenc y, Doubt, Mediation

203

the locals to examine not only the mediums and mediumship, but also the things that the gods say through them. Sometimes, when the locals do not like the words spoken by the devtas, they are attributed to the mediums instead. This can be seen as an act that challenges not only the mediums, but also the agency of the gods, constituting a negotiation of the message that the believer is prepared to receive from them. In other words, these interactions also provide a challenge to sanctity through mediation. If sacrifice permits the profane to approach the divine while maintaining a certain distance, it is possible that in the case of Mahasu, mediumship allows the profane to challenge the sacred without completely undermining it. It appears, therefore, that this mediation contains epistemological questions and practices that allow for some degree of distance from the devta, so that the profane and the divine can maintain their distance. At the same time, the epistemological questions and practices allow a challenging of the divine without undermining it. Moving objects represent a greater degree of closeness to the divine than sacrifices because they can express the god’s will to a certain degree. Through moving objects, the devtas express movement in space. Through palanquins (palki) the devtas can bow or take a holy bath, can dance and manifest joy. However, the devtas cannot converse with their followers or make complex physical gestures through moving objects as they do through human mediums. Does this mean that the divine is more present through mediums than through moving objects? It depends on the circumstances. In the context of personal requests from the followers, mediumship can make the divine more present than moving objects can. However, in the context of governance, the palki has a powerful presence. Each moving Mahasu (Chalda, Bashik, Pabasi) has a “mool” (original) palki as well as additional palkis on a smaller scale. Generally, a small-scale palki allows a village or group of villages to act independently from the “main” palki. As demonstrated in previous chapters, the villagers in Tikri have their palki of Pabasi, which is why they can act independently from the “original” Pabasi of the Bangan region. Shari Banar exercises strong authority over a particular area through the combination of his palki and a single, authoritative medium. This can be compared to Botha’s lack of even a single palki and his many mediums. The palanquin is a significant marker of authority—perhaps because the palanquin gives the devta a majestic appearance that is needed in a culture where the important local gods are also considered to be royal. What the three key mediators in the Mahasu experience—mediumship, moving objects, and sacrifices—have in common is that recent years have witnessed a certain decline in each, especially among young people, for a number of reasons. The offering of animal sacrifice is being challenged by

204 

The Biogr aphy of a God

pan-Indian movements and discourse, as well as legislation, which regard the practice as outdated, cruel, and non-Hindu.8 More than ever, mediumship is being viewed, especially by younger and more educated people, as an unreliable practice performed by people who are not always mentally healthy. The moving objects are also slowly losing their charisma, although to a much lesser extent compared to the rapid change of attitude towards sacrifices. This is partly the result of the intensity of modern life, which makes traveling to accompany the objects a burden. The enthusiasm for the moving objects is now limited mainly to festivals and special occasions such as the movement of Chalda. The overall result of the waning of these three types of religious mediation, especially among the younger generation, is the rise of a more abstract conception of religious experience. This does not indicate a process of secularization, but instead greater closeness to the prevailing religious perceptions from the plains of India.

Bibliography Berti, Daniela. 2016. “Technicalities of Doubting: Temple Consultations and Criminal Trials in India.” In Of Doubt and Proof: Ritual and Legal Practices of Judgment, edited by Daniela Berti, Anthony Good, and Gilles Tarabout, 19–38. London and New York: Routledge. Berti, Daniela, and Gilles Tarabout. 2010. “Possession.” In Dictionnaire des faits religieux, edited by Hervieu-Leger Daniele and Azria Regine, 941–947. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France. Fader, Ayala. 2020. Hidden Heretics: Jewish Doubt in the Digital Age. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Hubert, Henri, and Marcel Mauss. 1964 (1898). Sacrifice: Its Nature and Function. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. Luhrmann, Tanya M. 2012. When God Talks Back: Understanding the American Evangelical Relationship with God. New York: Vintage Books. Meyer, Brigit. 2011. “Mediation and Immediacy: Sensational Forms, Semiotic Ideologies and the Question of the Medium.” Social Anthropology 19 (1): 23–39. Pelkmans, Mathijs. 2013. Ethnographies of Doubt: Faith and Uncertainty in Contemporary Societies. New York: IB Tauris. Robbins, Joel. 2017. “Keeping God’s Distance: Sacrifice, Possession, and the Problem of Religious Mediation.” American Ethnologist 44 (3): 464–475. 8 This practice has been banned by legislation in Himachal Pradesh, and in Uttarakhand efforts are being made to at least limit it.

Index Agency of the deities 19, 41-42, 109, 144-52, 188-89, 193-96, 199-200, 202-03 Animal Sacrifice 48, 55, 85-88, 91-94, 96-97, 104, 150-51, 172-73, 175, 199 As medium 201-204 Dispute over 124-34 During Jagra 120 Legality of 120, 133-34, 172 Atkinson, Edwin T. 55-58, 61-62

Identification with pan-Indian gods 103-05 Bourdieu, Pierre 145, 170-71 Brahmins 27-28, 43, 48, 119, 129, 150, 162-63, 165 Brahminic-Puranic tradition 16, 64, 66, 128, 201 British colonial administration 17, 53-54, 73-74

Badhal 144, 148 Bagi 49, 59, 135-36, 158, 162 Baindra 37, 74-75, 105 Bajgis 32, 43, 59, 103, 119, 162-63 See also Musicians Balsa 33, 50, 187 Banar 37, 39, 52, 59, 62, 75, 96, 104, 142 Bamsu 73, 102, 107, 110-11, 136, 144 Bashik 15, 37, 51-52, 57-58, 61, 91, 107, 109, 113, 124, 126, 136-37, 140-41, 203 Administration 94, 97, 144, 148, 157-58, 160, 162-63 Identity and personality 86-87, 104, 139 Territory (Shathi) 37, 63, 69, 86-88, 94, 97, 109-11, 135-36, 138-39, 147-48 Pilgrimage to Kedarnath 102, 106, 136 Bastil 49, 87, 143 Berger, Peter 18 Berreman, Gerald D 28, 135, 164-65, 171 Berti, Daniela 16, 37, 41-42, 78, 99, 123, 146, 171, 193, 201 Bhatt, G.S. 28, 51-53, 59, 65, 87, 100, 120-21, 127-28, 136, 138-140, 157, 163 Bhirti 144, 161 Bholar 85, 111, 150 Bhutanu 119, 144 Bielo, James 18, 195 Bindi, Serena 40-41, 178, 183 Birs (subordinate deities) 32, 42, 52, 60, 63-5, 74-75, 88-90, 92, 103-04, 127-29, 141 See also Chhavni, Gudaru, Kailath, Kailu, Narsingh, Kapla, Sherkulia Bishu festival 29, 31, 122 Bolain 126 Botha 15, 40-1, 49-52, 57-58, 61-63, 70, 73, 76, 81-83, 87-91, 94-97, 105, 108, 121, 139-40, 167, 203 Identity and personality 49-51, 82, 84-85, 87, 95 Territory 37, 52, 58, 62-63, 69, 75, 82, 86-87, 91, 97, 106, 110-11, 147 Signs (Nishan) 38, 51-52, 70, 76-7, 82-83, 85, 88, 91-92, 96-97, 105-07, 111, 118 Administration 90-91, 94-95, 97, 106, 110-11, 125-27, 151, 157-59, 162-63

Caste 24, 27-39, 83, 122, 129, 140-41, 146, 149-50, 160-64, 168, 170, 185 Discrimination against low-status castes 29-31, 34, 119-120, 163 Chalda 37, 49-53, 57-58, 60-63, 71-73, 75, 84, 95-97, 104, 109, 118, 122, 127, 132, 140 Identity and personality 15, 50, 52, 63-64, 67-72, 75-76, 81-84, 87, 96, 147-48 Movement 15, 19, 37, 49, 51, 58, 63, 67-69, 83, 86-87, 100, 106, 110-12, 124, 132, 138-39, 141-44, 147-49 Administration 50-52, 69, 95-97, 109-10, 124, 127, 131-32, 138-39, 147, 149, 157-58, 160-63 Umbrella power 63-64, 84, 103 Chakrata 27 Chasralu 70 Chhavni (bir of Botha) 66, 73-74, 102-03, 185 Chikhareshwar 74 China 24-25 Chirgaon 27, 92, 123, 131 Chiwan 73, 98, 99-101, 119, 136-137, 144, 150 Colonial records 29, 47-51, 54-63, 67-71, 78, 135-36 Dagoli 73, 158 Devi/Devta Administration of 43, 53-54, 67-69, 71, 87-91, 110, 159 As healer 40-41, 95, 111, 166-67, 172-73, 177-78, 181-83 As judge 41-42, 82 As royalty 16, 34-35, 37-38, 42, 62, 95, 106, 128 Expansion of territory by 51-52, 71 Meetings between 33-34, 37, 89-90, 109, 126, 139 Movement of 37-39, 63, 68-69, 92-94, 106-07, 110-11, 135, 136-37 Political power of 42, 78, 171 Relationships between 71, 74-76, 78, 90 Relationships with human rulers 63, 72-73, 78, 119 Starting as important humans 104-05 See also, Pahari religion

206  Delhi 77 Deolari 61, 65, 141 Deul 105-06 Dhar 82-83, 98, 102, 113-14, 144, 148, 159, Development 24-25, 42 Discrimination 29-31, 34, 119-122, 163 Droogers, Andres 18 Durga 17, 51, 124, 159 Elmore, Mark 30, 32, 42, 59, 62, 78, 126, 132, 150 Emerson, William Herbert 51, 55-58, 60-62, 69-72, 74, 76-77, 120-21, 135-36 Ethnography of religion 18-19, 145-47, 152, 195-96, 199-201 Evans-Pritchard, E.E. 18, 177 Family deity (kul devta/devi) 16, 40-41, 71, 85, 88, 92, 190 Family unity 41, 178, 180-81, 188 Flueckiger, Joyce Burkhalter 16, 99, 135 Ganesha 17, 64, 100-02, 118 Gijari 74, 77, 86 Goats 48, 92, 120, 124-26, 128-31, 133, 141, 180 Government support 33, 123, 140-41 Govindrajan, Radhika 125, 133-34 Gudaru (bir of Pabasi) 51, 141 Hamilton, Walter 47-49, 55 Halperin, Ehud 20, 39, 42, 99, 109, 125-26, 132, 134-35, 145-46, 150 Handa, Om Chanda 35, 52, 55, 60, 139, Hanol 15, 30-32, 35-37, 48-52, 55, 82, 86-87, 91-92, 94-95, 97, 102-04, 107, 118-20, 124-28, 135-43, 147, 157-63 Conversation with Mahasu in 40, 108-109, 165-68, 174-193 In the myths 54, 58-59, 62-63, 69-70, 72-77 The presence of the Mahasu brothers in 110-12, 140 Hateshvari (Hatkoti Mata) 59, 66 Hatkoti 56, 59, 66, 124 Hindutva 97-98, 124 Ibbetson, Denzil 55-62, 65-66, 70, 118 Jagra 31, 60, 75, 91, 101-02, 117-23, 126, 130, 140-41, 158 Jakh (bir of Bashik) 141 Janog 84, 106, 142-143, 149, 158, Jassal, Aftab Singh 39 Joshi, P.C. 165-66, 184 Jubbal (village) 24-25, 30-31, 51, 73-74, 88, 97, 159-160, 164, 172, Jagra in 118-124 Jubbal (region) 24, 27-79, 32, 37, 51-55, 59-62, 65-67, 77, 81, 83, 85-86, 88, 90-95, 99, 102-05, 112, 114, 117, 120-24, 143-44, 161, 163, 169, 172, 174, 188, 191-92

Kailath (bir of Pabasi) 57, 64, 141 Kailu (bir of Botha) 57, 61-64, 140 Kali 17, 88-89, 139 Kalsi 27 Kapla (bir of Bashik) 57, 64, 141 Kartik 64-65, 102 Khashdhar 75-76, 100, 111-12, 127, 143-44, 147 Khund 28-29, 53, 122 Kohlara 76-77 Koti 15, 106, 112, 143-45, 147 Koti-Kanasar 75, 106-07, 110, 112, 122, 143 Kotkhai 37, 51, 74, 105 Kuna 135-36 Kul devta see Family deity Lankra 66 Leavitt, John 165, 174 Luchesi, Brigitte 16 Luhrmann, Tanya M. 194-95, 201 MacLagan, Edward 55-62, 65-66, 70, 118 Mahabharata 52, 62, 72, 100-01, 103, 105 Mahajan, Chakraverti 42, 74, 78 Mahasu Administration of 118, 137-40, 157-63 Communication with 40-41, 82, 103, 107-09, 124-25, 150-51, 165-67, 170-77 Identification with Pan-Indian deities 98104, 113, 115, 128 Of Balsa village 33-34, 50 Myths (including katha) 17, 47-50, 54-67, 70, 73-8, 98, 102, 104-05, 117-18, 137, 142, 163 Territory of 17, 25-27, 35-38, 52-54, 63, 70, 74, 76-78, 90-94, 103 Traits of 67-72, 78, 87-8, 96, 127-8, 135 See also Botha, Chalda, Bashik, and Pabasi Maindrath 49, 55, 57-60, 62-63, 66, 82, 94, 106-07, 110-11, 113, 117, 124, 136-37, 139, 141-42, 158, 161-63 Malik, Aditya 41, 165 Mandhol 76, 95, 115, 143, 151 Marijuana 31, 42, 85, 100 Mediums 16, 34, 39-41, 70, 73, 77, 81, 84-85, 89-91, 100, 105, 107-09, 112, 121, 131, 150, 163-85 Doubt in 96, 98, 112-13, 132, 150, 169, 171-72, 185-93, 195-96 Modernization 15, 24, 42, 99, 114, 120, 122-24, 128-29, 132, 134, 136-37, 183-84 Moran, Arik 29, 35, 48-49, 53-54, 169 Mori 27, 40 Murti (idol) 16, 39, 65, 75-76, 82, 103, 109-12, 115, 139-42 Musicians 27, 32, 43, 59, 103, 119, 137, 162-63 See also Bajgis Nageshwar 71, 76, 105 Nandrari 51, 105 Narsingh 88-90

207

Index

Natural Disasters 94-95 Ninus 49, 157-58 Nerua 27 Ohri, Lokesh 20, 59, 78, 146, 150 Ortner, Sherry 148 Pabasi 15, 49, 50-52, 57-58, 61, 63, 92-95, 97, 107, 109-10, 127, 140-42 Administration 92-5, 97, 110-11, 124, 127, 137-39, 144, 149-50, 157-58, 160, 163, 203 Identification with Pan-Indian deities 85, 100-01, 104, 111, 113, 127, 135 Pilgrimage to Devban 85-86, 136 Identity and personality 73, 85-87, 92, 97, 127 Territory (Pashi) 37, 63, 69, 73, 86, 88, 111, 136-37, 139, 147-48, 203 Pahari identity 63, 72, 77, 104, 123, 129-30 Pahari religion 34, 37, 50, 63, 66-67, 72, 77, 85, 87, 96-97, 103-04, 106-10, 115, 120-21, 123, 126-28, 130, 135, 139, 199 Palanquin 16, 19, 30, 33-34, 37-38, 49-52, 64, 82, 88-89, 90-94, 96, 107, 109, 111-12, 141, 139, 149, 157, 163, 171, 201, 203 Types of 39 Parvati 64, 100-02 Pashi See Pabasi, Territory Possession 33-34, 40-41, 56, 60, 71, 86, 108-09, 167-69, 174, 176-78, 181-83, 190 Purtad 49, 157-58 Puraula 27 Rahru 135, 143 Raigi 104, 107 Raithru 37, 96 Rajputs 27-29, 43, 53, 87, 119, 160, 162-63, 165, 171 Rama 17, 62, 102-04 Ramayana 62, 103 Ramesh, Ruchi 42, 74 Ratri puja 105, 130-31 Robbins, Joel 201-02 Rohru 24, 27, 70, 78, 92-93, 105, 123, 159 Rohru mela 33-35, 50 Rose, H.A. 55-62, 65-66, 70, 118 Sanskritization 16-17, 29, 31, 54, 62, 64-67, 98-104, 111-15, 120, 124, 127-32, 134, 199 Saraji 109, 112, 144, 147 Sax, William 16, 28, 37, 40-41, 75, 99-100, 106, 125, 135, 145-46, 151-52, 170, 174, 177-78 Shari 62, 91

Shaivism 17, 31, 58-59, 64-67, 85-86, 97-102, 105, 111, 113-14 Shaktism 65-66, 124 Shalu 70, 76 Shari Banar 37, 39, 62, 88-92, 96, 104, 123, 203 Shathi See Bashik, Territory Sherkulia (bir of Chalda) 32, 42-43, 48, 51, 56-57, 60-64, 103-04, 107, 118, 127, 140 Shikru 33-35, 39, 50, 123 Shiva 17, 31, 37, 56-58, 131 Mahasu as 17, 58, 64-67, 97-105, 111, 113-14 Pabasi as 85-86, 100-101 Signs (Nishan) see Botha Sirthi 52, 75-77, 105-06 Sundli 65, 83, 113, 122, 127, 129 Sutherland, Peter 21, 35, 37-38, 43, 78, 106, 126, 146 Temple construction or inauguration 16, 38, 70-72, 88-90, 100, 107, 109, 127, 135, 138-39, 144 Temple design 139-42 Terminology 32, 43 Thadiyar 92, 100-01, 110-11, 113, 124, 127, 136-39, 141-42, 144, 149, 158, 161-63 Thaina 59, 112 Thangar 106, 143-44 Tharoach 106, 109-11, 143-44, 158 Theog 24, 42, 74, 86 Tradition, loss of, see Modernization Turner, Edith 19 Tyuni 27, 35, 137 Utter, Hans 28, 59, 139, 162-63 Vaishnavism 66, 98, 102-05, 114 Vegetarianism 17, 85-87, 92, 96-97, 115, 124, 126-31, 150, 199 Vidal, Denis 29 Village deity 16, 99-100 Vishnu 17, 37, 66 Mahasu as 98, 102-05, 114 Vishnu (king) 63, 73 Wazir 43, 71, 88, 110, 137-39, 143, 149-50, 157, 161, 163 Weber, Max 165-66, 168, 168, 171 World Bank 24-25 Zoller, Claus Peter 28-29, 32, 39, 48, 62, 86, 124, 165, 193