HINDU DEATH AND OUR DEATH

  Hindu Brahminical Death (Upper Caste)
  Modernized Life of Hindu (Brahmins and Baniyas)
  The Dalitbahujan Death
  Hindu and Dalithbahujan Concepts of Death

 

The way human beings are born is the same except for the fact that the mother who gives birth suffers less or more according to her caste/class background. Our birth into a particular caste is accidental. We may have little control over our upbringing in caste-culture. After a certain age we continue to live in the culture of our own caste through a conscious decision. Having been born into a caste, very few—we can count them on our fingers—consciously move out of their caste-culture.

 

                Though it is not in our hands to decide where we should be born, it is certainly in our own hands to decide how we should die. It is a fact that death is inevitable, but it is also a fact that such death can be moulded into a death according to our own ideas and beliefs. In the concept of death, and the experience of death, Dalitbahujans and Hindus differ in a big way. In our country there is Dalitbahujan death and there is Hindu—Brahmin, Baniya, Kshatriya and neo-Kshatriya—death. Thus, the notion of death differs between Hindus and Dalitbahujans more than it differs between people who belong to two different religions, say, Islam and Christianity.

 

HINDU BRAHMINICAL DEATH:

 

The difference between Hindu brahminical death and Dalitbahujan death lies in the very concept of death itself. What is the Brahmin’s notion of life and death? A Brahmin believes that life must be lived for the sake of death which will make him eternal. To live this way is to live a life that constantly thinks about death. Life in this universe must ensure a perennial life in the other world, that is, in heaven. The Gods that he/she propitiates, time and again are to provide two things. One, a happy life hereon this earth, which in philosophical terms is a kshanabhanguram (a life that survives only a minute). At the same time, however, this short span on this earth must also be made to ensure a permanent life of privilege and pleasure. So, for a Hindu, death is a transition from this kshanabhanguram to eternity. But how does one spend this very short life here? One should eat in the name of that God who guarantees a permanent happy life. One should eat all the best things available on this earth to please the God who bestows the life of permanence. Though this body merely awaits day in and day out the transitory death that will carry it from the kshanabhanguram to eternity, it must eat rice, dal, milk, vegetables, ghee, fruit and nuts in various forms. It must eat all this in the form of daddoojanam, pulihoora, perugannam  (these are names of different varieties of rice foods), pappu kuuralu, and other curries, in several flavours. Some curries must be sour; some must be sweet; ghee plays an important role in the cuisine. The vessel holding ghee has a special place in this impermanent life. All this must be followed by sweets—laddus, jileebis, fruit salad, and so on. In the sweets too, those made of ghee occupy the highest place. In other words the kshanabhanguram body ought to be as fat as possible, with a rounded belly and unexercised muscles.

 

                In this impermanent life, sex also plays an important role. To the Gods who enjoy the pleasures of the other world  the most beautiful women like Ramba, Urvashi, Tilothama and Menaka were available. In order to facilitate this life of Kshanabhanguram, of few  pleasures, and to ensure a permanent life where more and more pleasures will be available, a son is indispensable. Since it is essential to ensure that the son is his and his alone, he needs a wife who enters his life when she is a child who has not yet attained puberty, and who will later produce a son. When a Brahmin died, if not now, in the past, to ensure his permanent pleasure in heaven, his wife must also die along with him and make herself into a sati.

 

                In the process of working for this most-needed death, two things are necessary: (i) leisure and (ii) prayer. Leisure in this context is a divine leisure. It must keep the mind focused on acquiring the permanent life and partaking the pleasures thereof. However, this leisure is also used to develop skills that negate the Others (who are sinners because they produce the goods and commodities that prolong the life of kshanabhanguram that a Brahmin would like to end as soon as possible). Why should he eat the products produced by the labour power of Dalitbahujan castes which will prolong his life on this earth? He believes he is eating not for his own sake but eating for God who alone can ensure him moksha, or release from worldly life. Why should he indulge in sex which only results in another life, like his own, which he himself wants to end?  Even this he does for the sake of God’s eternity which in turn becomes his own eternity. As I said earlier, a son is essential if he is to enter heaven, and this son is a gift of God, who is also eager to take this punyaatma  (one who has done only good by not working at all) back to his kingdom. Why is the Brahmin a punyaatma? Because he has eaten all that is produced by the Dalitbahujans and also treated all of them as untouchable rascals. Thus, for a Brahmin, that is, for a Hindu, food and sex are two prerequisites of death.

 

                The life of leisure when supplied with food and sex, automatically ensures two things. One, it ensures that the kshanabhanguram is longer than the unsanctified life of the Dalitbahujans because it gets the best of foods. The emphasis on sex ensures the continuance of this life in his progeny. But this truth is systematically glossed over with the second instrument—prayer. Prayer provides legitimacy for all this drama. prayer is a weapon in the hands of a Brahmin. It sets him apart from the rest of the masses. It is through this prayer that he establishes his hold over the rest of society. In a fit of madness, which might be a result of their lifetime alienation from work, life itself begins to look meaningless to them. They call this madness the life of penance.

 

However, when a Brahmin, who does penance throughout his life and who fathers a son to ensure a place in heaven, dies, according to the brahminical notion, it is the day when God’s call comes. This death appears very different from the death of a Dalitbahujan. A Brahmin’s death is adjusted with the movement of stars, grahas (plants), and so on. Dealth is not supposed to be mourned. Immediately after the death of a person, the Brahmins around pour into the house. Some begin pujas, some begin prardhanas, some begin bhajans. The people around are not allowed to weep loudly; they can only do so quietly. After the dead body is carried out, only men follow the funeral procession. Women are not allowed to take part.

 

From the day a Brahmin dies till the twelfth day, instead of mourning, feasting takes place. While alive the Brahmin’s body is sacred (this is the reason why others must not touch him except when doing paadapuja, that is, touching the feet and asking for his blessing). After death that sacred soul begins its voyage to swarga and the body becomes untouchable (this notion got extended to Dalitbahujans also). The priests pray for their fellow priest’s soul to be given a permanent seat in the other world. Even the death of a Brahmin is a tax on the already burdened Dalitbahujans. The living  Brahmins will have more feasts, which in turn will result in their extracting from the Dalitbahujan masses. In the beginning, there is a shraadha every day, gradually it becomes a month-wise shraaddha, and afterwards every year at the death anniversary a shraadha takes place. Even after death the soul does not merge into collectivity.

 

Is there any change in these notions of life and death among modern Brahmins? Not qualitatively. There are perhaps some quantitative changes, but the essence remains the same. Even today, an average urban Brahman does not think differently from his ancestors. In post-colonial India, the Brahmins have urbanized themselves in a big way. The notion of swarga may not dominate their day-to-day life. There might be slight reversals in their notions of this life and the life after death. Because of fast growing technology, an average Brahmin or Baniya publicly confesses that the life here should be lived with all the luxuries, but this does not mean that he or she reduces the emphasis on the permanent  life in swarga. To achieve this the discourse has been changed from dharma to merit. The state and the civil society are moulded to suit ‘merit’ in modern times just as it was moulded to suit dharma in ancient times.

MODERNIZED LIFE OF HINDU (BRAHMIN AND BANIYA)

 Earlier the life of kshanabhanguram involved only eating without producing the food that was eaten. Modern Brahmins and Baniyas not only eat the best and most modern food available in India, but they also have the best houses. Their styles of living have been modernized. They now have cushioned double beds, air-conditioned houses, air-cooled bedrooms (depending of course on the climate). They have the most decorated houses. Even here modernity has been cleverly braminized. The centerpiece in a well-decorated room is not uncommonly a painting of a Hindu God or Goddess. A picture that is commonly found in the homes of brahminical families is that of Krishna’s radhasaaradhyam (as charioteer); another popular image is that of Krishna preaching the Gita to Arjuna. All this is now couched as art and stamped with the stamp of modernity. The largest number of colour TVs are possessed by Brahmin and Baniya families. The largest number of private cars (perhaps about 70 percent) belong to Brahmins and Baniyas. The largest number of people who travel by air in India are Brahmins and Baniyas. The highest number of people who travel in air conditioned trains and luxury buses are again Brahmins and Baniyas. Today they do all this in the name of service to the ‘masses’. They did the same thing in ancient India, calling in the service of God, done in the interest of loka kalyanaam. Nationalism reformulated brahminical philosophy, replacing the divine with the ‘masses’, as this was essential at a time when adult-franchise was on the global agenda. The change from ‘God’ to ‘masses’ is a trick of the trade. Expanding the scope of the pleasures to be enjoyed in this world, pleasures that are increasingly on sale in a capitalist market, is an essential prerequisite, and hence the restructuring of Brahminism is the need of the day. During the post-1947 period, enjoying political power became one of the pleasures of life.

 

This did not diminish, however, the Hindu ambition for the permanency of life in the other world. As the Brahmins and the Baniyas exploit the Dalitbahujans from positions of political and bureaucratic powers and industrial and capital markets, there is a growing sense of sin which, in their view, may bring early death. There is a danger that after death the sin may haunt them in the other world too. This is sought to be overcome by constructing posh temples and establishing puja rooms in their modern houses. Both in the temples and in the puja rooms of posh houses, brahminical gods—Rama, Krishna, Shiva, Ganapathi, Lakshmi, Parvathi, and so on, are depicted in modern forms. All this is to facilitate exploitation and also to prolong life here and in the other world.

 

Even in modern times death is mourned with feasting and feeding people from their own castes. After death, the third day celebrations, the eleventh day celebrations, month celebrations, anniversary celebrations, all are occasions for feasting. Those who have done little except cheating and eating in their lifetimes are made to be historically important persons. Their biographies are written, their photographs are publicized and their names appear in the media. Newspaper advertisement have been modern methods of ‘upper’ caste celebrations of a person’s death, and of the perpetuation of the dead man’s memory. They have acquired crores to spend in this way. Even after a Hindu dies, living Hindus go on wasting social wealth on him. Obviously, they think this social wealth is their (Hindu) wealth.

THE DALITBAHUJAN DEATH

 

  For Dalitbahujans life now and life after death has a different meaning from that of the Hindus. For them, life is a one-time affair. The philosophy is expressed in the proverb, puttindokasaare sachindokasaare (‘we are born only once and die only once’). A dead man/woman in a Dalitbahujan family is a loss in terms of productive work. Each person would have developed several productive skills of his/her own. Each person would have added some instruments for enhancing production. A Kurumaa man would have discovered new areas of sheep-breeding. He would have improved the skills of cutting wool. A Kurumaa woman would have added to the skills of spinning wool. Several women spun wool, rolling the spinning stick on their thigh muscles. If a woman who discovered the techniques of wool spinning died in the process of discovery and in the process of putting it to use, sometimes the process stopped for generations. In the death of such a woman the development of technology stagnated for quite some time.

 

                In this philosophy there is no concept of heaven or swarga. All the descriptions of swarga that are part of the day-to-day discourses of Hindu families do not exist in Dalitbahujan families. In a Dalitbahujan view, life here must be lived for life’s sake. Further, life here is related to work. The more it works, the more sacred that life becomes. The proverbs, panee, praardhana  (‘work is workship’), panileeni paapi  (‘One who does not work is a sinner’) demonstrate that work alone makes life meaningful. In contrast to brahminical notions of eating, Dalitbahujans consider eating as a part of life on earth itself. Dalitbahujan women demonstrate this philosophy in which eating is considered as a part of work. They say anni panulu tiirinaayi, okka tineepani tappa  (‘all my work is done; the only job left is to eat’). The routine process of eating has no relationship to God or to the sacred. As I have discussed in Chapter 1 and 2, both cooking and eating are done at a secular and mundane level.

 

                Among the Dalitbahujans, quite a considerable debate takes place about whether human beings have to eat to live or whether they should live to eat. In their discourses they normally come to the conclusion that they have to eat to live. As work is central to their lives, every discourse relates to work. The context itself provides answers to their philosophical questions. The life of the Dalitbahujans starts with work but does not start with bed-coffee or bed-tea. It starts with cleaning: sweeping the surroundings, washing, taking the cattle to the field, tilling the land, and son on. In their everyday lives, the question of eating comes much later. A Kurumaa’s life starts straightaway, attending to the herd of sheep or entering into the field, a Goudaa starts his day by reaching the toddy tree, a Maadigaa starts his day by taking his aare  (an instrument that cuts skin) into his hands, working at his household industry of shoe-making. Usually they do not wash their faces in the morning. Face-washing and cleaning the teeth takes place at buvva yalla  (food eating time, around 10 a.m.). The conclusions that they have to ‘eat to live’ is based on their daily experience: they work first, eat later.

 

                The act of eating is very simple. A woman quickly swallows some rice from the buvva kunda  (rice pot) and some curry from the kuura kanchudu  (curry bowl). She also feeds her children with the same food and carries some to her husband. The husband stops his work for a few minutes, eats his food and resumes the work. based on this daily practice, they conclude that they have to eat to live. This philosophy of eating to live is exactly the opposite of the brahminical notions of living to eat. The Gods and the Goddesses who they worship occasionally—Pochamma, Maisamma, Potaraju—do not appear to be Gods or Goddesses who order them to make obeisance in daily puja; they do not demand divine feasting. Even on festive occasions, eating does not involve even one-tenth of the ritual that the Hindu brahminical God and Goddesses require. So, the number of items of food that appear in the ritual only indicate the desire of human beings to eat those things.

 

                At a festival, the Dalitbahujans will kill a lamb, a goat or a hen and give a small amount (paid) to the Goddess or the God once in a while, but life in terms of the prosperity or death in terms of eternity does not figure in their relationship with that Goddess or God. Fear is not totally absent, but fear is not given a philosophical justification. Further, ‘freedom from fear’ does not require the eternal protection of the Goddess or the God. In other words, the notion of prayer as investment in eternal life is not the basis of the relationship between the Goddesses or Gods and the human beings. One reason for this could be that among the Dalitbahujans, of the two things that a Hindu expects as a mater of right—leisure and prayer—are absent.

 

                The interaction of Dalitbahujans with the land, water, forests, animals and reptiles is in order to get something new out of these things. It is a scientific interaction and a creative one. This is the reason why  in their day-to-day lives the earth is referred to as Mother Earth (talli bhoodevi),  the forest is referred to as Mother Forest (adavi talli), the water is referred to as Mother Ganga (Gangamma talli).  None of these forces demand prayer; they are forces that the Dalitbahujans constantly interact with. if any of these notions exists among Hindus, it is because of the influence of Dalitization. It is through the interaction with natural forces that the new emerges, and this newness through the addition of labour (not leisure) changes into a socially useful product. A Hindu uses every one of these socially useful products, but does not know how, or by which process, it is produced. He or she thinks that it is a product of prayer. The Dalitbahujans know that it is a product of labour. Therefore, here labour is valued and leisure is condemned.

 

                Since this labour is combined with constant interaction with other social beings, it produces a language, a grammar and a literature, for example, a song is an integral part of labour. If any Dalitbahujan is not involved in work, such person is known as panii paata leenoodu  (a person without work or song). The parallel proverb of brahminical Hindus is chaduvu sandhya leenoodu (a person without education or prayer). In the Dalitbahujan notion of panii paata, we find creativity and science; in the brahminical notion of chaduvu sandhya, education has degenerated into a non-labouring leisure activity, which causes human beings to degenerate. Dalitbahujan philosophy is not linked to the sacred. The reason for the degeneration of Hindu society, even in the modern period, lies here. Leisure and prayer are concepts that not only have different connotations in Dalitbahujan lives, they have a very marginal role in their socio-political formation.

 

                What does sex mean to Dalitbahujans? Sex in these lives is not an activity of leisure-based pleasure but an essential social function. This does not mean pleasure is seen as antithetical, but the brahminical leisure-based pleasure does not find any justification. A people who developed so many arts, never thought of developing, as Vatsyayana did, the arts of sexuality. For them such sexuality has leisure-based vulgarity and it had no scope of acquiring a social base. That is the reason why the Vatsyayana type of exercise is absent even in the oral tradition of Dalitbahujans. For example, while the brahminical temples are full of sculptures based on Vatsyayana’s sixty-four arts, no Dalitbahujan temple-no shrine of Pochamma, Maisamma, Kaatamaraju, Beerappa—bears such decorations.

 

                As against a brahminical notion of sex, the Dalitbahujans perceive the man-woman pairing as a social combination of collective production and collective procreatioin. procreating children is a social function and also adds hands to the labouring process. It is not that a son does not get better treatment than a daughter, and not that a son does not play a ritual role when the father or the mother dies. Talagooru, a water pot carried in front of a dead body, does play a role at the time of death.  But a son is essentially seen as the caretaker of old parents, not as one who ensures a place in heaven. As the notion of swarga is not central, life after death is not important. If a person lives a socially useful life, it acquires meaning. Death  is an end in itself. If someone plays a socially negative role, after death such a person becomes a devil and keeps hanging around troubling others. Thus the difference between punyam  and paapam  is that punyam ends life forever, while paapam turns a person into a devil. Dalitbahujan castes perform third day and eleventh day ceremonies, but after that the dead people lose their identity. Anniversaries are not celebrated and the identity of the dead person is not retained. All the dead become part of the peddalu  (elders who have passed way). The priest, though he comes and performs the shraaddha, never—even notionally—concedes an equal place for Dalitbahujans. No priest proclaims that in performing the shraadha for the Dalitbahujan, his or her right to enter swarga is recognized. In fact, even the death of a Dalitbahujan is a mean used by the priests to make money., In the modern urban areas, Dalitbahujans do not touch a dead body. This is because their reference point has become the Brahmin family. They have internalized Brahminism.

CONCEPT OF DEATH BETWEEN HINDU AND BALITHBAHUJAN

                 Hindu and Dalitbahujan concepts of the death of women also differ. A Hindu woman does not find any important place in Hindu ritual hierarchy. A woman’s death is mourned, but not eloquently. Among ‘upper’ castes, when a woman dies if a man weeps loudly, such a man is said to be unmanly. But among the Dalitbahujans, weeping aloud is possible. People gather around the dead body, and generally the  women outnumber the men. I remember when my mother died, my father wept. The men around began to say, ‘You are a man, how can you cry like that?’ But the women intervened and said, ‘Let him cry, if he does not cry now when will he cry?’

 

                It is this autonomous space and public role of women that sets the norm for man-woman relations among the Dalitbahujan castes on a different footing even at the time of death. They provide a different social space for the death of Dalitbahujan women.

 

                After death, in the case of women too, the third day, eleventh day and the completion of one month, are observed as Maashikam  (death ritual). After that, the dead person is only another of the dead elders. Among Dalitbahujans, the bodies of married men and women are burnt down to ashes. Children and unmarried women or single men of whatever age are buried. This practice is an extension of Brahmin practice. Cremation is an unscientific method of dealing with dead bodies because it leaves no history in the form of fossils. If the whole world had done what the Brahmin rituals requires, the whole fossil history of human bodies would not have been available. Quite a lot of ancient and medieval history was reconstructed based on skeletons of the human that could be studies even after centuries. Burning of human bodies burns every evidence. I wish the Dalitbahujans could have developed a different practice even in this respect by giving up the practice of burning dead bodies. Today the practice of burning dead bodies is used by state agencies like the police and the army to destroy the evidence of torture and murder. Brahaminism must have evolved this practice  in ancient India as the Hindus killed several Dalitbahujans who had revolted against them to destroy evidence of torture and murder.

 

                Dalitbahujans are not used to being photographed, the old especially offer resistance. This is because the Brahmins did not allow them to maintain any history. Though architecture, painting and sculpture were Dalitbahujan occupations, a painter or an artist never left a history or a picture of his or her family. Ironically, it was the Dalitbahujans who painted and sculpted the family histories  of the Brahmins and the Kshatriyas. But they were not allowed to retain a sense of their past in any visible form. This is another reason why the death of a Dalitbahujan means that he or she dies for ever. But now we must change this situation. We must see that the dead Dalitbahujans would live in the form of history; that they live in art, in paintings, in sculpture and in literature.

 

                Hinduism left no stone unturned to destroy the wisdom, the faith, the feelings, and the images of the Dalitbahujans while they were living and also after their death. In this respect Hindu Brahminism is unparalled. Its inhumanity is unequalled. As I have shown, while living the Dalitbahujans share nothing with Hindus and even after death they share nothing with them.

 

                We should change this relationship not by Hinduizing ourselves. We must change this relatioinship by dalitizing the brahminical forces. Throughout Indian history the Dalitbahujans have been the thesis and the brahminical forces the anti-thesis. The relationship between these forces in the form of thesis and anti-thesis has resulted in producing a synthesis but it is a mutilated synthesis. It is unnatural for a section of human beings to acquire the role of anti-thesis and continue to play the role always. It  is realistic and natural that all human beings become thesis and confront nature as their anti-thesis. This is essential if the relationship between Indians as human beings is to acquire a positive homogeneity with plurality, and not a negative homogeneity which will destroy plurality itself.