Ayudha Puja

Here in South India we're in the middle of the 10-day Navratri festival, which marks the transition from summer to autumn. I don't pretend to understand much of Hinduism, as it's far too ancient and complex for an outsider to grasp in the short time we've been here, but I did learn that Navratri is a time when people worship the various forms of Goddess Durga, or the Mother Divine.

As part of the festival, families set up a golu, which is a tiered display of dolls and figurines. Many families have dolls that have been passed from mother to daughter for generations. Here's a picture of the golu that was set up at the consulate. I took the photo with my cell phone, so it's not great. Yes. That is a purple unicorn on the bottom tier.

Here in Tamil Nadu, the big event is Ayudha Puja, on the ninth day of the festival. This is when workers perform a puja, like a blessing, on their tools. As I understand it, the idea is to awaken the divine force within the tools and ask it to perform well through the coming year. Anciently, the puja was done on weapons, but today people perform it on any kind of tool that relates to their work. Office workers might do it for a computer or artists for their paintbrushes. The drivers at the consulate performed the puja on all of the consulate vehicles ... and we even had a puja in our driveway!

Quick tangent: All this time I've been under the impression that our driver, Ashok, was Christian. Not so! Here's my excuse. Ashok cannot stop talking about his daughter's coming wedding, The Event of the Century, and I know she's getting married in a Catholic church. I just assumed that the whole family was Catholic. Silly me. So Ashok, our gardener (Melan), and our neighbor's driver (Ramesh) have been anxiously preparing for the Ayudha Puja for days now, and I could not figure out why Ashok was so into this. I finally asked him, "Aren't you Catholic?" Then the whole story came out. His daughter is a recent convert to Christianity ... because of "the boyfriend," as Ashok always calls him. This is a HUGE deal. Apparently it's a love marriage, which is still extremely uncommon here. The fathers generally arrange a match, and this is true for Hindus, Christians and Muslims. I asked Ashok how he feels about it, and he said he was glad to see his daughter so happy. There is a lot of tension in the extended family, though, and Ashok has had to not-so-politely ask relatives to butt out of the situation. After I had this conversation with Ashok, one of my friends told me that Ashok's daughter's engagement was juicy gossip among the local household staff. It's all so romantic and scandalous! Who knew? That's what I get for assuming.

Back to the puja at hand. First, Ashok and friends hung garlands in the driveway and lined up the cars, their motorbikes, and even the kids' bikes to be cleaned and decorated.

Next, everything was smeared with tamarind paste, sandalwood paste, and kumkum (some people call it vermillion). Those are the same things people have painted on their foreheads after doing a puja at a temple, a practice that led to women wearing the bindi (that's the dot in the middle of the forehead) as part of their daily fashion. Many men also walk around with marks on their foreheads (usually vertical or horizontal lines rather than a dot). Different designs mean loyalty to different deities, but we're getting too detailed for this post.

The paste was added to all "important" parts of the car: windshield, mirrors, lights, tires, etc.

Here Ashok is adding the kumkum as a dot in the center of each large smear of paste.

Melan and Ramesh dabbing kumkum onto Samuel's trike

Samuel's trike and Evie's bike didn't make it through the whole ceremony, because the kids wanted to ride. Oh, well.

After everything was properly cleaned, decorated and smeared, the drivers prepared an offering. I think it was to the divine force within the vehicles, but I'm not positive on that.

The offering was placed on banana leaves and included puffed rice and various fruits. They also placed small lamps around the outside.

Here's a photo of the completed offering. Once it was complete, no one was allowed to approach it unless they removed their shoes. The box between the two cars is full of Melan's gardening tools.

Once everything was prepared, Ashok rang the puja bell while Ramesh performed the ceremony. First he circled the offering and each vehicle with a cup of flames. As owner of the car, I had to stick my hand over the same flame. (John's duty officer this week, so he missed it.)

Then he did the same thing with various fruits that had been hollowed, filled with dye, and lit on fire. When he was done with the fruit, he smashed it on the driveway.

Here he is with a flaming coconut.

Ramesh told me the last item was a white pumpkin. I'd never seen one before.

Ashok was ringing a puja bell during the entire ceremony. I couldn't get a good photo, so you'll have to use your imagination. Notice the lemons under the tires. As owner of the car, I was supposed to smash the lemons as the first to drive the car after the puja.

The smashed gourd. It had been filled with coins and dye.

After the ceremony, Ramesh and Ashok presented the owners with bowls of fruit and sweets.

It was a fascinating evening, and I'm really glad I saw the puja done. I admit to feeling a little on the fence about it, being a Christian and so opposed to idolatry. Ashok is the principal driver of our car, though, so it was important to him. In any case, it was certainly a unique cultural experience. Happy puja!