February 1, 2016

The Latter Day Breast Beaters


I have stated on earlier occasions  that when I see something, some situation or some person, I get reminded of another thing, another situation or another person. This curse continues unabated and I am unable to help it.

Recently a very unfortunate and perhaps entirely avoidable death occurred at Hyderbad University. I am referring to the suicide committed by Rohith Vemula, a PhD aspirant who was ousted from the hostel at the university. This death has been making headlines in all kinds of media, particularly the electronic media. It is likely to continue till another more sensational news comes by for which the current dispensation at the center can be blamed.

Like it does in any mishap, where the main victim or the sufferer is from a socially disadvantaged class or a known left sympathizer, the electronic media in this case too has afforded tremendous opportunity to Arvind Kejriwal and Rahul Gandhi, who are quick to arraign RSS, BJP and Narendra Modi. Both these worthies made it a point to rush to Hyderabad (not together) to be seen by the side of the victim’s mother and his colleagues. And both of them vented their steam in their by now well known if stereo-type style.

For a politically disoriented and naive person like me, it is quite understandable that Rahul Gandhi should appear on any such occasion. Perhaps he has no other responsibility or occupation and may be he is feeling afraid that absence from public view will hasten his fading into oblivion. But what is beyond comprehension for me, is Kejriwal’s personal appearance in Hyderabad along with his retinue. He is the Chief Minister of Delhi and the governance of Delhi should be his full time responsibility. Nobody stops him from expressing his sympathy for the wronged ones but why can he not do the same from Delhi itself. And I wonder whether any audit would raise queries about who pays for the expenses incurred on travel and other incidentals by him and his entourage. I am also not able to reconcile with his dichotomous outbursts against arrangements for his security, when his random forays must be causing huge stresses on the security system.

When I see Rahul Gandhi and Kejriwal indulging their wonts on any unfortunate incident, ostensibly to show sympathy for the unfortunate victims but with the real intent to decry Modi, BJP and RSS and to label them as embodiment of evil, I get reminded of Amrit Bai, a resident of my mohalla in Punjab. Amrit Bai was the exponent of a very special art called Siyapa.


Siyapa is a funeral custom which was very common in Punjab in the earlier days. I witnessed the same on several occasions during my childhood. By the time I attained boyhood, the tradition had become less prevalent though not extinct as such.

Prakash Tandon has described the art of mourning and the Siyapa very vividly in his book ‘Punjabi Century’. I am reproducing that description here as such.

“If engagements and weddings were complex and prolonged, so were funerals and mourning. If we enjoyed long and heartily at weddings, we paid back dearly at mourning.  Punjabis never did anything in half measures, especially our women with whom mourning had become an art and a test of both skill and stamina. Often the grief was borne with great courage but the spirit and flesh broke down under the strain of mourning.  The original symbol rich ritual had become mixed with some ugly mourning customs.

The women seemed to find in death some physical and mental catharsis. They cried, they wailed, they beat their breasts in rhyme and rhythm. They did it to traditional pattern with improvisations. They would sit in a group with their faces covered with their mantles holding one end of it, the pala which gave this form of mourning its name. With the pala they dabbed their eyes and blew their noses as they cried in a song. The leader improvised the dirge as she went along and others followed. To express their sympathy, each would in turn come up to the bereaved, put her hands on her shoulder and cry in an intimate language and tone, occasionally hugging her. As further evidence of her sympathy, she would blow her nose often and profusely into the pala of her mantle. They never gave relief to the poor woman already in distress.

The most gruesome aspect of all was the siyapa, which used to scare us children. The women would form a mourning squad in the deohri and one of them, the most experienced of them all, who had perhaps led a number of deaths would lead the siyapa. She would select the squad and would then stand in the middle with the rest twenty five or more in several rings around her. They would all bare their breasts and gird up their garments to bare their thighs and at a word from her, begin to beat their breasts, their cheeks, their foreheads and thighs rhythmically in that order, keeping time with mourning song sung in a quick tempo. The leader generally sang the song that she had improvised at the death of her husband or son, others followed her. While directing the siyapa she kept a stern eye on the performers and sent any one who could not keep pace or made an awkward movement. The woman turned out would sit crestfallen with the others on the floor and join the pala. The noise of beaten flesh and quick song with an occasional fainting made the whole thing so horrible ----.”
‘Mera Pind’ a book by Giani Gurditt Singh also gives a very detailed description of the mourning process and the importance given by the women to the same.

He writes

“The women make best use of two occasions for venting out their feelings to their hearts’ contents.

One of the occasions is, when they are able to find some excuse for indulging in a war of words with some rival female acquaintance and the second is to go for mourning or condoling some one’s death. If the dead happens to be an old man, then the women have a field day. All kinds of spectacles are organized.
----
Some women impart more importance to the opportunity for joining in the mourning than they do for attending a marriage.”
 ----
Any lady who is asked to participate in the mourning, feels obliged and proceeds to do so without a hitch barely hiding her glee.”
----
 On the way to the mourning, the women form small groups and happily indulge in backbiting on their daughters-in-law, neighbour and any relation or acquaintance, with whom they would like to settle some score”


I used to have mixed reactions when I witnessed Siyapa. I would find it horrifying and hilarious at the same time. I would see that the women performing the Siyapa were very eager to do so. They considered it as an opportunity to showcase their histrionics talents and they relished their own performances. One moment they would be conversing in conspiratorial whispers recounting all unpleasant things, factual and fictional, relating to the departed soul and the bereaved family and the next moment they would switch to wailing and mourning and extolling all virtues, more fictional than factual, ascribed to the departed one. It had become a hobby with me and some of my contemporaries to judge the performances and rate them as actors. Amrit Bai was adjudged the best and won the ‘award’ on a number of occasions.

I have tried finding out where and how the ritual of Siyapa originated, but my research is yet incomplete and inconclusive. I think that Siyapa owes its origin to Matam or Matam-Dari / Sina Zannee (chest beating), a ritual practiced by Shia Muslims through which they express their grief as part of Azadari, the process of mourning and lamentation to commemorate the martyrdom of Imam Hussain. I have always felt that a lot of customs and rituals followed by Hindu and Sikhs in Punjab were also practised by Muslims. In Punjab, these communities have wielded considerable social influences on one and another.

When I see Rahul Gandhi and Kejriwal and their respective acolytes lament about everything that Modi and BJP do or do not do, I get reminded not only of the non-professional and hobbyists Siyapa artistes like Amrit Bai but also of Rudalis, the professional mourners of Rajasthan. I remember that Dimple Kapadia gave a sterling performance in the film ‘Rudali’.

I am peeved to observe that some electronic media channels and some particular anchors constantly indulge in a kind of Siyapa, in the most brazenly sickening manner. 

I do not know when good sense will prevail upon all these latter day breast beaters and when this horrible practice will stop. 

I wish, hope and pray that it happens soon.


References






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