After a week in amchem Goem what is striking is the complete absence of the
enchanting mood & atmosphere that once prevailed in the days leading up to
the night of Narakasura and Diwali. The number of Narakasura effigies have
multiplied immeasurably even while the actual spirit of the occasion has
diminished to a cipher.
Everything in today's Goa is an assault on your eardrum, your nose, and
your eye. The miasma is comprehensive - aural, visual, oftactory.
I am recycling an old article I wrote. There is an effort afoot these days
to either erase crucial points of tradition or filter it through the
'progressive' lens to fit a certain narrative. I don't need any 'culture
theorist' (a strange term for a pompous prick) to tell me what is and isn't
Art, and what is and isn't Hindu tradition.
Ruminations on Narkasur
by
Rajan Parrikar
(Goanet, Oct 2009, revised Nov 2012)
While Narakchaturdashi is observed throughout India, the practice of
staging Narkasur effigies and their dispatch at dawn ushering in Deepavali
is confined to Goa and areas within the cultural boundaries of Goa (such as
towns in North Kanara and southern Sindhudurg in Maharashtra).
Narkasur-vadh is what Goan Hindus associate Deepavali with. I am not sure
the tradition of exhibiting Narkasurs exists elsewhere in India. At any
rate, it is reasonable to assume that the scale and fervour of the Goan
observance is not to be found anywhere else.
How did Goa come to embrace the Narkasur mythos and when did the practice
originate? I don't think there is definitive research on the topic, and we
must seek recourse to anecdotal accounts (memo to self: find out more about
the history of Narkasur in Goa).
My guess is that the practice is at least 100 years old. My father, now
91, recalls that the Narkasur effigies of his childhood were to be found in
the villages of Bittona (Britona) and Ribandar/Chimbel. According to him,
Mapusa acquired its own Narkasur circa 1950, and there was a kerfuffle at
the time involving the Portuguese (details of which I forget).
Narkasur was introduced to Panjim in the early 1950s, first in the Mala
area. In the mid-1950s, 3 other Narkasur sites came to be firmly
established: (1) near Mahalaxmi temple (Deul vaddo), (2) in Santa Inez near
the slope leading to Altinho (behind Gomantak), and (3) our very own (much
before I was born) at Cacule Chawl in Santa Inez (now site of the hideous
Caculo Mall), opposite Tadmad ground (now the Fire Station). Until 1980 or
so these few remained the established Narkasur digs in the Panjim area.
>From the earliest days the practice was to unveil the Narkasur effigy for
public viewing until midnight to the accompaniment of loudspeakers blaring
out the hit songs of the day on 78 rpm records, interspersed with the
beating of drums. Those were days when Panjim still had its original
trees. At midnight the celebrations turned mobile. The demon’s carcass
was hauled onto a truck and taken around the city to the beat of dhol and
other implements of noisemaking.
The children of those days remember the looping chants of the signature
ditty. For one night this off-colour utterance in the company of elders
and ladies was permitted.
Narkasura re Narkasura
navim navim kaapdaam bhokann bharaa
(Narkasura O Narkasura
Let's stuff new vestments up your arse)
In our Cacule Chawl comprising 5 homes cheek-by-jowl, the earliest
Narkasurs of my memory (late 1960s) were cobbled together with a
contribution of 3 rupees from each of the 5 homes – that is, the total cost
of the hardware worked out to less than 15 rupees. That amount later
increased to 25 rupees and stayed there for many years. My father
functioned as the treasurer, stretching every single rupee,
comparison-shopping for crepe papers (foli), the gold and silver trimmings
(begad) at both JD Fernandes and Barnabe Souza, two of Panjim’s historic
stores. Other raw materials required were jute, nails, and lumber. The
hay for the stuffing was 'stolen' in the middle of the night from a local
landlord’s field in a choreographed annual ritual.
The biggest expense - perhaps as much as half of the entire cost - was the
Narkasur mask. The artists from Mapusa were especially renowned in this
department. Unlike today, these were custom-designed faces and supply was
limited. My father's Mapusa connections ensured that we got a good product
at a good price.
By 1970 the 5 homes in our chawl had grown to accommodate a critical mass
of youngsters in their teens and early 20s, besides the under-10s of my
generation. In that year, our elders had a brilliant idea. Instead of
dissipating the youthful energy in rambunctious behaviour as was the norm,
they figured it could be channelized in creative and cultural pursuits.
And thus was born the Tadmad Sanskritic Mandal. From that year onward, in
addition to staging an imposing Narkasur effigy, we put up an outdoor
variety entertainment programme. The initial cultural direction was
pointed by
