This week I chanced upon a Konkani book title ‘Yug Sanvar’ by Sahitya Akademi Winner, writer Mahabaleshwar Sail(please read his interview here) Here in the UK, I could only get the English translation of it ‘Age of Frenzy‘ but I was not disappointed. The translation was beautifully rendered by Mrs. Vidya Pai. When I get a chance, I would like to read the more detailed version of the book in Konkani or the Marathi one titled as Tandav
While I was always aware of the Inquisition and the turmoils our ancestors went through resulting in their migration, I hadn’t deeply thought through the various factors that drove this conversion. Set in a tiny village in 16th Century Goa, the books lays out an old world view about life in a village, the gaonkari system, the occupations of people, the deities of worship and the rituals followed. The author has beautifully introduced multiple characters each having their own reason to either convert to Christianity or not. For some it was the greed of obtaining land and titles, for some it was the fear of the Portuguese officials and for some pure helplessness driven by the stringent, uncompromising traditions of the then Hindu society. Women come across stronger in their view of not giving up their Hindu religion, some even being superstitious about it but the mother in them surrender to conversions to protect their children. In one book, we come across so many complex emotions that hold true today as much as it did 500 years back. It is painful to read of the locals who hoped their local Gods will come to their rescue and then the disappointment they see when nothing happens despite the atrocities of the Portuguese who even demolish the temples.
The book doesn’t build a bias on any religion but reflects an honest portrayal of human behaviour. There are some really deep questions on religion and faith and how relevant they are to our daily life. For instance, even after conversion, some people didn’t want to let go of their caste status as Brahmins or Kshatriyas. There is an interesting character Father Simao Perres who although ordained by the Pope himself is persecuted by the prosecution for being true to the actual principles of Christianity and challenging the conversion done by the Jesuits. These depictions brings to my mind an interesting set of questions asked by Sujata Gidla in her book ‘Ants Among Elephants’
“So what is the relation between religion and caste? Between caste and social status? Between social status and wealth? Between wealth and caste? I thought about these things incessantly.”
What is painful though is to see the same pattern we see in the history of the British rule – the lack of unity in our people. The internal strife between the community members worked in favour of the Portuguese rule. The fact that members of the society didn’t forgive small acts committed out of ignorance, that lower sections of the society were mistreated, that neighbours turned on each other out of jealousy and that when people migrated locals from the other settlements didn’t welcome them.
Unfortunately, we see this today especially as we try and draw lines between the regions we come from and the religious institutions we follow and to my dismay the Gurus we follow.
Why should you read this book?
History doesn’t just tell us what happened in the past, it makes us reflect. So please read this book not just to educate yourself and appreciate your ancestry but also to find ways to be part of a more united, a more cohesive GSB community.
An excerpt from the book that touched me:
An old man and a youth, sixteen or seventeen years of age, had dragged a dead cow out of the field and were cutting up its flesh with large, sickle-shaped knives. They had skinned the carcass and thrown the bloody scraps of skin on one side while the chunks of soft flesh were piled in a basket. A pack of vultures waited on a tree nearby. Both men’s bodies were drenched in sweat and flecked with blood, their hands covered with blood and flesh. Padre Simao went up to them, ‘Do you eat cow flesh?’ he asked. The old man seemed nervous, ‘Yes, we do, ga,’ he said. ‘Aren’t you a Hindu?’ ‘No, ga. Priests and Brahmins are Hindus. We’re low caste Mhars. We handle dead cattle. We weave reed mats and baskets. We go around the village making announcements.’ ‘So then what is your religion?’ ‘All that is for the big people, those who live in the village. We are low caste. We only go to the bhat or to the joish to ward off trouble from bad planets and ghosts or spirits. They give us charms…’ ‘So you have no religion?’ ‘Don’t know. Must ask the joish.’ The old man seemed confused. ‘Do people eat food that you have touched? ‘No, no! We’re Mhars. Low caste.’ ‘Do they touch you?’ ‘No, no! We’re Mhars!’ ‘Aren’t you men?’ ‘Don’t know. They sprinkle dung water to purify themselves if our shadows cross their path.’ ‘Are you worse than dung?’ ‘Who knows?’
‘Will you leave your caste and your religion and join another faith?’ The old man seemed bewildered for a while, ‘I don’t know what you say, ga, how can we escape our caste? They say God came in the guise of a sadhu seeking alms at our door. One of our ancestors tossed a broken horn into his bowl. God was enraged. “Never again. Never again will anyone come to seek alms at your door. You will carry a horn and handle dead cattle all your life” God cursed us.’ The padre went up to him. ‘Has anyone, other than another low caste person ever touched you?’ ‘No ga, never. Once, when I was returning from the forest I accidentally bumped into Biru Nayak. He thrashed me with a cane and then went home to bathe and sprinkle dung water on himself.’ The padre moved closer and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. The old man recoiled as though a scorpion had fallen on his body. Turning pale he said in a piteous voice, ‘No, no ga! Don’t touch me. You are a big man, white-skinned, Brahmin-like. If we touch them, the sins are upon our heads, they say. Do not add to our sins!’ The padre was deeply distressed. The butchered carcass, the bloody hide lying there, the vultures waiting on the tree and the sight of the two shunned men was more than he could bear. He stood there silently, unable to think or speak. Just then Annu appeared on the scene, probably looking for Padre Simao. ‘Annu, will you touch these men?’ the padre called out. ‘No! No!’ Annu almost screamed. ‘Why? Why won’t you touch them, Annu?’ ‘No one touches them. You’ll become impure if you do.’ ‘How do you become impure? Does your body get soiled, or do you get cuts and wounds if you touch them?’ ‘I don’t know, Padre bappa. The others don’t go near them, so I don’t go.’ ‘Do you touch bullocks and oxen?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Frogs and earthworms?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Then why won’t you touch these men?’ ‘I don’t know anything, Padre bappa. Must ask the bhat or the joish.’
Sail, Mahabaleshwar; Pai, Vidya. Age of Frenzy (p. 26-28). HarperCollins Publishers India. Kindle Edition.