When festivals unite

We have a lot to learn from Karnataka's rich tradition of syncretism when it comes to celebrating religious events, writes Varsha Gowda

At the Bahmani tombs, an annual jaatre mahotsav or urs brings together people of all religions. Photos by Mohammed Ayazuddin Patel

A scene inside the Bahmani tombs in Bidar.

A scene from the jaathre at Bidar. Photos by Mohammed Ayazuddin Patel

Festivals in north Karnataka are jointly celebrated by people from different communitie. Photos by Mohammed Ayazuddin Patel. 

Woven into Karnataka’s rich tapestry of festival traditions are numerous examples of cultural and religious syncretism. One such tradition that continues even in today’s communally charged atmosphere is the Urs or Jaathre Mahotsav celebrated in Ashtur, Bidar district.

Held for five days in March or April each year, the festivities mark the death anniversary of Sultan Ahmad Shah Bahmani, who ruled from 1422 to 1436. “Hindus, Muslims, Christians and Buddhists attend the observance that is organised at his tomb,” says Basavaraj Swamy Hiremath, the secretary of the jaathre mahotsav.

The Hindus believe that saint Allama Prabhu, a social reformer who was a contemporary of Basavanna, visited the area, declaring it holy. To honour him, they perform a naivedya ceremony where they offer mouladi, a sweet made out of rotti as prasada. Simultaneously, Muslims observe ‘Urs Sandal’, celebrating the death of Wali (a respected individual) as the culmination of a lifelong yearning to meet god. They prepare kandri, a feast made from meat.

In and around the tombs, the crowds watch on as devotees sing bhajans, kirtans and khawallis. At the end of it all is a khushti, organised for the entertainment of the people. Shashidar Patil, a history professor and resident of Ashtur says the region has a long history of congeniality. “The Jaathre or Urs also only begins when Shivaraya Odeyar (an ascetic from Madiyal village from Kalaburagi) arrives after a padayatra.”

But how has this tradition survived for this long?

The legend behind Ahmed Shah Bahamani may hold some clues. The locals of the region believe that after a long period of drought, he threw open granary reserves for all his subjects and prayed for the rains to come. It is said that after years of drought, the clouds broke and it rained.

The residents of Ashtur have kept this tradition alive because of the benevolence of the king, according to Mohammed Khaleel Shah, a resident of Ashtur.

Hundreds of kilometres away is another tradition that has survived hundreds of years. Before the annual jaathre at the Channakeshwara temple in Belur, a muslim cleric is invited to read a few lines of the Quran before the ratha takes off on its journey. According to Vidyalatha, executive officer of the temple, this tradition was “was first recorded in 1932 but many believe that it started during Ramanujacharya’s time, who believed in the doctrine: Sarva Dharma Sama Bhava.”

Historically, jaathres or urs are not religious congregations but community-driven events that fuel seasonal employment in villages.

Rehmat Tarikere, a culture critic and professor at Hampi University, believes shared occupations in agriculture, metalsmithing and artisanal work, that have some level of dependency, helped facilitate these inclusive spaces.

“In Kaup, at a temple the shehnai is played by Muslims. In many dargahs, leather instruments are only played by Hindus. Huli Nruthya is performed both during Muharram and Navarathri. Even the coating of the inside of vessels used in temples is often done by Muslim families,” he says.

The Bengaluru Karaga also begins after a visit to the local dargah. A team of priests go to the dargah to offer their salutations.

In many parts of north Karnataka, Muharram is a celebration which often warrants the participation of entire villages. As most Muslim trade persons keep their shops closed for the day, their Hindu neighbours provide essential wares for the event. Groups of mixed religion singers also sing localised versions of songs that celebrate Imam Husayn, the grandson of the Prophet Mohammed.

These songs include a range of contemporary issues, including the failure of the government in addressing common problems.

Basavantarao Rompalli, an artist who has sung in Muharram processions since 1973, is proud to sing with such a diverse group. “I sing with people of all religion, we sing about corruption, government, female infanticide and integrate it with devotion,” he says.

Here, Imam Husayn Ibn Ali becomes Husayn Sharanara, a title bestowed upon the greats according to Karnataka’s vachana tradition. “In many places in north Karnataka, Muharram cannot be observed before pooja is done at the village head’s house,” explains Arun Joladakudligi, a folk researcher.

The threat

What started as one temple banning Muslim shopkeepers from selling their goods in temple premises and fairs has had a ripple effect. Temples in Kaup, Shivamogga, Chikkamagaluru and even Belur, with their rich history in inclusiveness, have restricted the access of Muslim shopkeepers either in the temple premises or at annual fairs based on a rule passed in 2002 under the Karnataka Hindu Religious Institutions and Charitable Endowments Act, 1997.

For scholars who study Karnataka’s culture and folk art, this is an alarming turn of events. “In temple jaathres in villages, every resident in the village pooled in money and was involved in some way or the other. There were problems with this, of course, but there was an effort to include everyone,” says Joladakudligi,

For now, this polarisation has worked in larger villages and smaller villages have retained their local traditions and have withstood attempts of homogenising culture.

Khaleel Shah believes that there is a lot to learn from syncretic traditions like the Ashturr fair. “When we are there we are praying for the same things, for our families. We have one sun, we get water and food from the same source. We are not that different,” he says. These traditions, he says, build empathy.

Watch the latest DH Videos here: