Pithora: Bold and vibrant art

Religion among India’s tribes — the original occupants of this land who are unfortunately being marginalised in the name of progress — is non-formal and practical.

Their lives are intricately intertwined with nature, and accordingly, convictions of faith hail earth’s bounties and lay stress on preservation of the local ecological system. Another significant feature of folk religion is animism or belief in the existence of soul and spirit, not only in man but in plants, rocks, natural occurrences such as flood, thunder, etc, and even diseases.

The tribes believe these elements have supernatural powers and try appeasing them by means of worship. Each of these ‘powers’ is represented by a deity who is uniquely placated by a set of dedicated rituals.

For the Rathwa tribe, primarily residing in Chhota Udepur in eastern Gujarat and Alirajpur in adjoining Madhya Pradesh, Baba Pithora is the god of all things.

Reverentially called Pithoro in local parlance, he’s worshipped as saviour and guardian and ‘invited’ home for thanksgiving; blessing an auspicious occasion; or when trouble of any sort plagues a family. The ‘invitation’ is extended via a mural made at home in his honour. This is a sacred ritual for the Rathwas, but for the world outside their realm, it is called pithora painting.

At the core of organised religions is the worship of deities or sacred sanctorum or holy text. In Hinduism, for example, an idol is installed and consecrated in a temple. The belief is the deity descends into the idol which attains the stature of god and thereafter its presence during rituals is paramount. Among tribes, sacred customs stand in sharp contrast.

The deities and spirits are seen only transiently during worship dedicated to them. This is so, as appeasement of god in tribal religion is through sacrificial offerings and drawing of legends and not praying to the endowed idol or the image of god. Thus the Rathwa ritual painting does not portray Baba Pithora himself but elaborately speaks of his myth.

A pithora is created on three walls of the house which are readied with cow dung and chalk plaster. The painting ritual is usually a three-day affair and it begins with a badhwa, or priest, being beckoned and explained the need for the sacred mural. Following this he performs prayers and it’s under his direction that lakharas, or artists, begin the mural.

Incidentally, only male members of the tribe are taught the art. As the painting commences, the priest sings and chants to drum beats and goes into a trance. On completion of the pithora, animal sacrifice takes place and at night the village arrives at the residence for a feast and celebration, with the singing and dancing rolling into dawn.
 
The lakharas work on a pithora within a decorated border, which connotes the geographical confines of the Rathwa landscape. The marriage of Baba Pithora is the most revered legend and it’s almost-always represented in a mural. A traditional pithora is divided into three decks and its central feature is a diagonal trail of ornate, long-necked horses. According to legend, the horses imply the number of hills found around their habitation and also signify Baba Pithora’s wedding procession.

The rest of the space is filled with a mix of other animals, birds as well as scenes from village life in bright hues. There are contemporary invasions too as trains, guns, aeroplanes, policemen, etc. Interpretations in a pithora are subtly charming. For instance, a wavy, stylised line with a hint of blue colour cutting across the canvas, just above the trail of horses, indicates River Narmada.

A palette of locally-made primary colours is used in a pithora and the lakharas work on the wall with a bamboo stylus. The freehand drawings are quite crude when compared to other folk art but they stand out for their vibrant and bold figurative depictions. Since long, pithoras have been available on fabric too, and keeping market demands in mind, prominent artists, as Mansingh Dhanjibhai Rathwa and Mathurabhai Satia Rathwa, tend to portray scenes beyond the traditional. 

As seen among tribes across India, the Rathwas too are under constant pressure to get integrated with the political and economic mainstream. Organised religions also coax them to shed crude form of worship. With their land being bought off them in the name of development, the Rathwa existence is changing. From being a self-sufficient community that valued its simple beliefs and lifestyle, they are being reduced to manual labourers who live on the edge in cities.

Many have ‘reformed’ and converted to Christianity, Hinduism, Islam or Buddhism. And in such homes, Baba Pithora holds meaning no more. Slowly but surely this ritual art of the Rathwas will be consigned to museums.