tradition
Gods of clay, men of craft
A. SRIVATHSAN
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The connection between the craft and worship is special to Ayyanar temples.
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PHOTOS: A. SRIVATHSAN
KEEPING vigil: Ayyanar on the horse.
THE verdant fields, the unusually thin and tall coconut trees and the tail end of Nagamalai Mountains make Melakkal the kind of village many urban travellers would romantically and affectionately dream of. Even the long wait for the bus only seems appropriate.
Signs of change
As you approach the village, the ubiquitous tea kadai greets you with a loud film song. It is not the radio that blares, but the television. Down the road, the grocery shop is using an electronic weighing machine and crates of soft drink are piled at the entrance. At the bend, a makeshift petrol bunk sells petrol in empty soft drink bottles. Concrete houses, newly-laid marble steps, a big school and girls commuting 25 km daily to study in engineering colleges are telltale signs of change.
However, on the outskirts of the village, the figures of fierce-looking Karuppusami on horseback with a scary demon by his side and Ayyanar on another horse, looking calm but assertive, are signs of a different kind. They are signs of continuing traditions — of craft, myths, rituals and caste politics.
Ayyanar and his retinue of 21 gods are worshipped as protective deities. Ayyanar with his whip and Karuppusami, his most important companion with a moustache and an aruval (a large sickle), are eternally vigilant and stand guard on the outskirts of the village.
Ayyanar temples are not architecturally elaborate. The principal deities — Ayyanar and consorts Pushkala and Purnakala — are sculpted in stone and enclosed in a small shrine. Other deities are made either in clay or stucco. While the gods of stone remain inside the shrine, gods made in clay are kept in open air. Ayyanar and Karuppusami sit on horses as tall as 20 feet and greet you at the entrance. At a few places like Mazhaiyur near Pudukottai, attendant gods like Semuni are not part of the Ayyanar temple but have their own place and votive horses.
Natarajan Velar is the priest of the Melakkal temple. His narration of the temple history and the cult of Ayyanar have no reference to dates, kings and texts. All he can say is that it is a hoary tradition and his family has served as priests for ages. Scholars may describe Ayyanar worship as ancient and connect it with the Jains or Sastha, Vishnu and Shiva, but Natarajan seems to remain outside such concern. He enjoys a special relationship with the god he takes care of; so do the other velars. Velars are a community of potters and they make the idols and serve as priests.
Special connections
Attendant gods.
The connection between the crafts and worship is special to Ayyanar temples. At an auspicious time, the villages collect money and commission the priest and his family to make new terracotta horses for Ayyanar and, if necessary, a new Ayyanar too.
A handful of earth from the village is given to the priest who is also the potter. The clay is then chosen carefully and the earth given is mixed with it. Two kinds of clay are scooped from a relatively dried-up water body. In the wet bed, clayey earth locally known as Karambai and a little grainy sandy earth called Paruman are collected. It is then mixed with elephant dung and river sand in suitable proportions. The legs of the horse are made first. Next, the body is finished and then the head. Shifting the parts is an important process. A makeshift bamboo and other improvised cradles are used. The parts are joined together and stitched with clay. There are variations to this process. In the Pudukottai region, instead of elephant dung, paddy husk is mixed to ensure better bonding. When the horse is ready, it is carried in a procession to the temple and placed by the side of the Ayyanar. The old ones are removed and kept aside to disintegrate.
The festival is elaborate. A few dance in trance and goats are sacrificed. The head and legs of the animal are given to the priest as his share. At times, the fleshy thighs are also shared. When I asked a priest how they managed to sacrifice animals despite the prohibition, he smiled ingeniously.
Being a priest does not pay Natarajan. But he has managed to balance his aspirations to earn better and the yearning to stay with traditions by turning priest after his retirement. So did Rajendran, at the Singampidari temple near Madurai.
Earlier, the priests had lands donated to them. Velars are not agriculturalists and hence leased their lands to the wealthy and dominating caste groups in the village. Some could never recover their lands from the powerful lessees. A few have lost properties for other reasons as well.
The potter-priest relationship associated with Ayyanar worship may not be the same in the future. Rajendran's two sons are employed in private firms in big cities and have less to do with the temple. People like Krishnamoorthy in Arapalayam have left pottery and making Ayyanars to his brother. While his brother earns Rs. 2, 000 by making five horses and two gods, he claims to earn Rs. 20, 000 from his catering business. His brother makes up by selling pots and clay stoves on a busy street in Madurai.
However, the future is not bleak for Rangaswamy and his sons. They are recognised craftsmen and are busy touring many parts of India and selling terracotta artefacts. Based at Mazhaiyur, they still make horses and terracotta gods for the village, but are not priests. Rajathi at Varapur near Pudukottai manages to continue her father's craft tradition through her self-help group. Some have successfully managed to remain with the crafts.
Changing craft
Votive horses.
It's not just the economics; even the iconography and the crafts have changed. At a few places Ayyanar now appears with an aruval. At Kochadai, just outside Madurai, Muthiah Sami and Ayyanar have acquired metallic utsava murthis or processional icons that are taken on vahanas or vehicles during festival days. This was largely absent in village temples. Prof. Aiyanar at Madurai Kamaraj University points to many more differences and relates them to the changing socio-economic conditions. He even identifies specific caste symbols in the icons. A research scholar in the same university describes how Jain Tirthankaras in abandoned caves have been converted to Karuppusami. All that is required is a simple brush stroke that can paint a moustache over the abandoned Jain gods. Gods appear to be as malleable as their material. However, a few desiring permanency and cost reduction have started to make Ayyanars in solid brick and mildly reinforced cement work.
At every Ayyanar temple, there is a shrine located away from and outside the boundary wall of the main temple. It is the shrine for the fiercely reassuring Sonai Sami, the God of the Dalits. Even today, at a few places, the Dalits — though they enter the Ayyanar temples freely — are reluctant to go near the sanctum. The shrine for Sonai Sami is alloted exclusively for Dalits. During festivals, their offerings are not easily offered to the main gods. One of the priests said this is not an issue since everyone knows their place. It looks like some practices that ought to have changed have not yet changed.
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Back in Chennai, I was searching the book that contained 20,000 Hindu names to find out what Karuppusami meant. There was no such entry.
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