Times of India , Patna Time Travellers 29-5-06

They are warring against the pressures of modernity and holding on to their ancient ways. Presenting some extremely conservative Indians

Why you can’t sell hair oil to them

In this country, tradition is a frightening idea. Old men in politics and in more meaningful jobs than that lecture the young about it. Unregulated medicines and spurious therapies are sold in its name. Cows jay walk under its protection. Above all, tradition is presented as something in direct contradiction to modernity, especially in travel brochures.

On the whole, there is something terribly boring, chaotic and Indian about it. But there are people who add substance to their heritage by living it every day. These are not sages in a society but whole societies themselves. They bear great difficulties down the path of curious anachronism. It’s hard to say whether they are right or wrong in reaching out to another era. They are good copy though.

The Lord is a doctor.

The Indian Pentecost mission, with a strong and influential following in Kerala, is one of the most orthodox sects of Christianity. Many of its young, well into their adolescence, have never ever watched a film. Nor worn any form of jewellery because Christ lives among the poor and a lavish life may turn Him away from their doors. More intriguingly, the sect avoids hospitalization of the sick. They believe in the power of prayer above the efficiency of modern drugs. There have been stray cases of people dying for want of medical attention.

For the last 27 years, Thomas Mathai, a devout member of the Pentecost orthodoxy, has not visited a doctor even once, not even when he suffered cataract. “I just surrendered myself to Jesus. I got my eyesight back and don’t even use glasses now. We live by the faith and obey the word of God,” says Mathai, a pastor of Mumbai’s pentecosts. Affiliated to the Assembly of God, an organisation that is headquartered in Arkansas (USA), the Pentecosts believe the spirit of Jesus lives in this world. So, no intervention is better than that of Jesus. Since Lord is the healer, the Pentecosts believe, no one but Jesus can cure a disease.

There are other denominations of Christianity that follow other paths that take them away from the routines of the mainstream. Like the Seventh Day Adventists, about four lakh strong, who consider Saturday as their day of worship instead of Sunday and avoid most normal activities on that day. They do not allow children to appear for exams or interviews on Saturday, no matter what the loss. Many have forsaken promising start in careers as the day happened to be a Saturday. Adventists’ children do not attend schools and colleges on Saturday. They also mix tea and coffee in a heady ancient brew.

Women who wear the sacred thread

A tradition is not always regressive in its thought. Nor is it always ancient. A brahminic strand that has lingered in Tamil Nadu for about 30 years, derives the simple pleasures of liberalism by interpreting the Vedas correctly and by ignoring the biases that generations have woven into the scriptures.

Over the ages, the sacred thread that Brahmin men wear around their torso, has emerged as a symbol of male chauvinism. However, Chennai based Sri Devi Natha Mission (SDNM) defies this popular perception. It gives the sacred thread not only to females but also to any person irrespective of his caste, colour or creed, provided he or she abstains from consuming alcohol and non-vegetarian food, as instructed by the creed’s guru Sri Devi Natha, who died in 1977.

“The mission has 60 members belonging to different families. They are spread across the country. In all the families of those members, females wear the sacred thread,” says SDNM vice-president T R Anandan, who lives in Coimbatore.

Anandan’s wife Lakshmi, now 64, got the sacred thread after she married him at the age of 22. Anandan, who retired as vigilance officer, wouthern telecom region, Chennai, a decade ago says, “I didn’t force my wife to wear one. In fact, it should be given only to those willing to accept it. I was fortunate thaty my wife agreed to wear it willingly.” Both his daughters and his daughter-in-law wear the thread. Anandan says the Vedas sanction the sacred thread for females.

But for stray movements like this, women usually bear the brunt of extreme conservatism. They are often considered elements of distraction, some sort of meditation wreckers. The most serious members of the Swaminarayan community abstain from even the simplest interactions with women.

When one of our reporters called the Swaminarayan temple in Dadar, she was asked, “would it be possible for your male colleague to call?” I’m afraid I don’t understand,” she said. “The saints of the Swaminarayan temple trust do not talk to women,” she was told.

Barpeta Satra

The famed Barpeta Satra, a Vaishnavite monastery founded by 15 th century neo-Vaishnavite saint Srimanta Sankardeva’s disciple Madhav Deva in Barpeta district of Assam, has traditionally been closed to women,.

Although several other satras dotting various places in the state allow entry to women, the Barpeta Satra founded around 1853 has not changed. Even former prime minister Indira Gandhi was not allowed to enter the sanctum sanctorum during her visit to Barpeta. “It is mainly for the purity of Kirtan Ghar that women are not allowed to enter,” a spokesman says. “It would be wrong to read it as an insult to women.”

Plants as their clothes

No dinner and no light after sunset, no use of oil and no use of winter wear are inconveivable today. But that’s the life of the 40 lakh followers of the Mahima Alekh sect, as prevalent this day in Orissa. The Mahima dharma is considered one of India’s earliest reform movements, started by Prabrudha Mahima Swamy in the late 18 th century.

The Swamy was born in 1802 and came to Puri in 1826 from the Himalayas. After about 12 years of rigorous meditationat the Khandagiri cave on the outskirts of Bhubaneswar, the Swamy went to the Kapilash hill range in Dhenkanal district in 1838 where he set up an ashram on the foothill.

So tied to their traditions are the followers of the Mahima sect even today, that in many villages of Dhenkanal district, one hardly sees a dot of light after sundown as they consider artificial light a material tool. They use the bark of Sisal and Tepin plants as their cloth and palm leaf umbrellas to protect them from rain and sun.

Salesmen may be, but no television allowed

The population of the Chillia Muslim community in Maharashtra is estimated to be around 4.5 lakh, while in Gujarat it is pegged at 8 – 9 lakh. Though a part of the Sunni Hanfi Momin community, the Chilia Muslims are a unique group and have their own set of rules and regulations.

They do not allow television sets in their residential colonies. They believe it is evil. About 1,500 people living in 11 buildings of the Gulshan society in posh Versova area of north west Mumbai do not own TV sets. Many did have TVs till 1995, but either threw them out physically or gave it away after a fiery lecture by a Maulana at the local mosque. A few kilometers away, the 10,000 residents of the 14 buildings of Gujarat Momin society in Jogeshwari also decided that they did not want to be corrupted by television.

Maulvi Ilyas Qasmi who is a resident of the Gujarat Momin society and has a shop at the famous Heera Panna centre near Tardeo says that TV is not mandatory. “TV is not informative. Overall there are more disadvantages than advantages.”

His nine year old daughter recently saw TV for the first time at a relative’s home and when asked by her father what TV was like, she said, “Daddy, people on TV were hugging each other just like you hugged so many people when you went for Haj.”

Magazines too are banned, though with somewhat weaker resolve. People who buy magazines keep the matter to themselves fearing the hostility of neighbours. But Qasmi denies that Chilia Muslims are orthodox. “It is not as if we are sitting with our eyes blindfolded. We have doctors, chartered accountants and lawyers in our community. We educate ourselves with other means of communication. We do take advantage of what science has to offer,” he says.

(With inputs by Anjana Pradhan, Rajaram Satapathy, T. S. Sreentvasa Raghavan, Bella Jaisinghani, P. K. Surendram, Md. Wajihuddin, Ketan Tanna and Naresh Mishra)