WHY IS THIS CRADLE EMPTY?

In the last clip, and its associated blog, we saw seven poor cows die cruelly on a staked fence. Although my comments interpret this as a sacrificial event, the cows themselves are innocent of this larger picture. Yes, they jump deliberately, but with the hope that they will sail over that fence rather than land on its vicious spikes. That fails to happen. Now, in this clip, we first see the spirits of those poor cows leaving their dead bodies. Their afterlives, depicted now as shadows, quickly float upwards to the edge of Lord Siva’s own Council Chamber. Lord Siva notices their arrival, of course. He quickly asks: “Oh cows! Why have you come to see me?” The cows retell the events that led to their tragic death in Ponnivala, but without naming the farmer Kolatta directly.

Lord Siva gets angry and quickly calls on his accountant Chitrabutira. Siva then orders this actuarial secretary to go and quickly fetch his record book that keeps track of the details of all the various human lives lived on earth. “Find out who was responsible for the terrible death these seven cows have suffered!” he orders his secretary pointedly. The accountant responds that it is Kolatta, the eldest of the nine farming brothers who work the landsf Ponnivala, and also a neighbouring area called Tangalvala, that is responsible. Siva responds with additional anger, rightfully or perhaps righteously, since it is considered a “sin” to kill a cow as discussed in several of my earlier blog posts. He will react by cursing Kolatta and his descendents to seven generation sof barrenness. This explains the ”empty cradle” scene where the clip ends.

But the significance of Lord Shiva’s curse goes way beyond this curse of barrenness or, might we say infertility? This “fate” that will visit not only Kolatta’s own wife, but also the women who marry into the family in later generations. Of course this is a typical tale set up, a “lack” that must then be overcome as the characters of the story struggle to keep their family “line” alive. The lack of “biological” children (especially sons) is also problematic in terms of the succession of family property rights (in palaces, in land etc.) but it is also problematic in terms of who will succeed to their political “kingship” (both the roles and the title) that this family will soon acquire.

One might also fairly ask, as have many of my students, how can a family persist through seven generations if there are no children born to it? The answer, of course, is by adoption and/or by the magical birth of god-created, divinely gifted children instead. The curse is thus also a gift.... in the sense that it allows this family to acquire its’ heirs in magical and god-sired ways instead. Also epic heroes require some kind of super-human qualities that will make them bigger than life. The Ponnivala heroes (and heroines) acquire this important set of character traits, at a very fundamental level, because of this all-important curse. And not to put too fine a point on it, those key features that can be said to describe each and every hero and heroine in the Ponnivala story flow from this initial and very symbolic “mythic sacrifice.” The Chola king’s seven sacred cows therefore end up being very important creatures whose living presence as a group, followed by a set of simultaneous sacrificial deaths, play a central role in defining this great epic’s wider structural form.

Read Part 30 ==>

<== Read Part 28

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To find out more about The Legend of Ponnivala -- the legend, the series, the books, and the fascinating history behind the project, visit www.ponnivala.com.   

WHY IS THIS COW CALLING OUT IN DISTRESS?

As this Legend of Ponnivala clip opens we see the group of “sacred” and wandering cows, all hungry, emerging from the forest again on a second night. They remember that lush sugarcane field where they dined in secret yesterday and are planning to repeat the same adventure once again. But as they approach the field the lead cow notices that a fence has been built. She warns her “sisters” by saying: “Watch out! Look at that fence!” She then adds a very poignant question: “What kind of landowner would do this to us?” A second cow now chimes in with: “How can anyone be so mean?” However, a third sister remains undaunted. That cow speaks up and bravely states: “That fencing doesn’t look too high. I think we can all jump over it!”

What ensures is sad indeed. The cows are seen to approach the fence cautiously. Next we see that they all have landed on those high spikes and become stuck there. We are spared the details of this gory scene, seeing only the cow’s multiple legs, and then multiple distressed cow heads. Meanwhile the audio track tells it all. The cow-sisters all cry out “Oh Lord! Oh Siva. Help me, help me!” But all their shouting and anguish is to no avail. There are only seven cows now, the rest having wandered elsewhere, but all seven have been skewered and clearly these poor creatures have no hope of escape. The clip ends here.

There is not much to say except that this tragic end for the cows is a key and well-programmed story event of mythic proportions. Its consequences will reverberate until the very end of the legend, and its symbolism will be revisited in multiple ways. Suffice it to say that death on an iron stake or spear point serves as a kind of sacrificial offering to the gods. This kind of suicide is either contemplated and/or done willingly by several characters in the broader story. In the middle part of the legend the heroine Tamarai contemplates jumping off onto a similar array of iron stakes from a high tower. She had earlier ordered a similar group of artisans to build her that tower for this very purpose. She never jumps off it ,as Lord Vishnu manages to coax her down from this dangerous high point before she takes that final leap. But her intention is clear. Later she sit sits on a tower capped by seven needles, for twenty one years, sitting there while undergoing seven mythical deaths executed by Lord Siva’s assistants at his command. Her seven “deaths” in this later set of scenes compensate, in a sense, for the lives lost by the seven female cows seen here. One can arguably say that in this story the heroine’s “seven lives” are taken to be the equivalent of the lives of these seven cows. Later, at the very end of this epic legend this heroine’s two heroic sons also dies on “stakes.” This time they leap forward onto their own swords that have been embedded upright in the soil. Their suicidal leaps cause another set of sacrificial deaths, this time explicitly and deliberately offered. But more of that event at a much later time.  

Read Part 29 ==>

<== Read Part 27

Have you experienced The Legend of Ponnivala on TV or in print? Let us know your thoughts in the comments below!

To find out more about The Legend of Ponnivala -- the legend, the series, the books, and the fascinating history behind the project, visit www.ponnivala.com.  

WHY ARE PEARLS BEING USED TO PAY THE ARTISANS?

This new clip is quite straight forward but has been included as a possible teaching point for younger students. The scene starts with several good views of the fence being built followed by a wider vista of the artisans’ finished work. Clearly this fence is a vicious obstacle. It has been designed to severely harm any animal that might try to jump over it (see my last blog, post 1.26). Heard behind these several scenes is a song taken from the original story’s tape village recording as bards sang it to a live audience in 1965 (see log post 1.2). One can “hear” the tone and style of the song in this particular clip because no narration has been laid over it. The bards one can hear are signing about the artisans’ workshop and the fine work being accomplished there. You can almost hear the sound of their hammers in the beat being used!

In the ensuing scene clip the farmer is paying his artisan(s) for their work, in pearls. The group leader has stepped forward to receive that payment on behalf of the whole group of artisan workers. It was the custom in earlier times to pay labourers in ”kind” rather than in cash. Although some coins were in circulation, common peasants had little use for these bits of metal and even less understanding of their value and of how to count them out. In this case pearls have been chosen to pay the artisans, something particularly appropriate since these same artisans may also well have had some among them who were jewelry makers. At least in the Legend of Ponnivala, artisans are artisans. Sub groupings are not clearly distinguished. The “acaris” as group (a generic name the epic uses for this large cluster of trades) appear to have multiple skill sets and they all live in one settlement (Aniyappur). Different skills are called upon on different occasions. I will return to what happens to those poor cows in my next blog (post 1.28).

Read Part 28 ==>

<== Read Part 26

Have you experienced The Legend of Ponnivala on TV or in print? Let us know your thoughts in the comments below!

To find out more about The Legend of Ponnivala -- the legend, the series, the books, and the fascinating history behind the project, visit www.ponnivala.com.  

WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO THE SOCIAL STATUS OF THE ARTISANS?

In the last clip (blog post 1.25) we saw the Chola’s cows eating their fill in Kolatta’s fine sugarcane field. They then leave, as a group. They are still able to move undetected in the darkness of the night. But then the sun rises and the farmer-hero-pioneer sets out to check on his ripening cane (a short scene not shown here). As the present clip starts he arrives at his field and is horrified to find his fine sugarcane badly trampled..Many stalks have been chewed up as well. Kolatta is very upset by all this destruction. He is in such distress and so angered that he barely takes the time to ask himself what animal(s) could have caused so much damage? He quickly turns and calls his watchman. He demands that the artisans be called and brought to him immediately. A fence must be built. This invasion has to be stopped!

The watchman goes to the artisan’s homes right away. There he announces the “the king” of Ponnivala has ordered them to come right away. This alone is quick revealing of the artisans fall from their previously powerful position vis-a-vis Ponnivala. Kolatta is by no means a king (yet) and still he is described as such by the watchman. Furthermore, he is ordering these artisans to come, and right away! The men dutifully pick of their tools and go with the watchman. When they reach Kolatta’s home they stand on the ground while he, their superior, stands on the porch where he is head and shoulders above them. The artisans address Kollata as “Lord” and he takes this greeting for granted. He then gives out his instructions for a fence and tells them to start their work immediately. There is to be a post every three feet and each post is to have a pointed spear head on it. The artisans do as they are told and set to work immediately. The change in their status is thus made very obvious. These men have now become mere service providers, skilled labours who are given just a minimal amount of respect. For more detail on this key social transformation see my previous blogs (Posts 1.13 - 1.19 plus 1.23).

It may also be significant (no coincidental) that the artisans are the ones to do the ”dirty work” of putting a vicious spearhead on each post. In an indirect sense it is their fine craftsmanship that will (as we shall see in my next blog post) become physically responsible for the ultimate death(s) of those poor, hungry, itinerant Chola cows. There are several ways, in later episodes, that depict ways the artisans find to take “revenge” against the newly-established farmers of Ponnivala. Though not stated in the story as such, this could be the start of that “trend.” But they are just following Kolatta’s orders and doing his bidding you might say. That is true, but they could have warned Kolatta, or asked what animals he was trying to keep out, or made the pikes less sharp, less murderous. Why does that matter? The killing of a cow is a serious offense in this story as well as in many other contexts that are part of a much larger umbrella of pan-Indian Hindu traditions. Kolatta will become the man considered responsible for this sin, and the one to bear the full weight of Siva’s wrath. But is it totally unreasonable to think that, just maybe, the artisans might have been secretly happy about this. Could they have had any inkling that such a circumstance might come to pass?

Read Part 27 ==>

<== Read Part 25

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To find out more about The Legend of Ponnivala -- the legend, the series, the books, and the fascinating history behind the project, visit www.ponnivala.com.  

SHOULD SACRED COWS BE ALLOWED TO RUIN THIS FINE SUGARCANE FIELD?

Now, immediately on the heels of the drought described in my previous blog(post 1.24), a second disaster unfolds in Ponnivala. The problem begins as the Chola’s ear-tagged cows reach Kolatta’s lands and find his finest field. It stands out for its tasty, near-mature crop of sugarcane. The cows eye the delicious-looking stand of tall stalks with hunger in their eyes. But they know that the owner will be upset if they enter the field and start to trample the sugarcane as they munch on it. In a nice mythical touch, these cows can speak to one another using human-like voices. Soon we hear one “sister” cow warning the others that they risk a beating if they enter this fine field during daylight hours. So they decide to delay this prospective feast and instead hang around in a wooden area where they will not be seen... until after dusk.

As soon as the sun sets, however, the cows start back to Ponnivala’s lush sugarcane field. Now the small group of hungry bovines enter the field bravely. There they do indeed feast! Many stalks re trampled as they munch, but their stomachs are soon filled and the cows are content. The clip ends as they exit the field. Why should they feel any quilt one might ask? Surely the owner of their field has an obligation to consider their hunger and to share his bounty with them. Like beggars at a temple shrine, these cows have a right to alms. Shouldn’t he welcome them and consider their welfare a sacred duty? Furthermore, these cows are tired and hungry wanderers. A man with this much wealth, a local king, should welcome them as guests and treat them to all they ask for. After all, they should be treated as guests and fed until they can eat no more! These are well-known local social “norms,” and these cows have every right to expect their observance! But all is not so simple in a land where a pioneer farmer has just struggled to bring forth his first fine sugarcane crop. We will see what happens next when I discuss the matter further in an ensuing blog (see Post 1.26, to follow).

Signing off for now,

“Blogger” Brenda Beck

The Sophia Hilton Foundation of Canada

Read Part 26 ==>

<== Read Part 24

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To find out more about The Legend of Ponnivala -- the legend, the series, the books, and the fascinating history behind the project, visit www.ponnivala.com. 

WHY IS THIS SCRIBE WRITING NOTES IN THE KING’S COW SHED?

This clip presents a rather unique set of scenes. There has been a sudden and severe famine in the Chola’s kingdom. Interestingly enough, this repeats a very similar disaster event that earlier befell the Vellivala area, the place where Kolatta and his eight brothers first tried to farm (see blog post 1.7?). Everything is dry, including the big water tank where much of the king’s irrigation water was stored. As already noted, localized droughts were once commonplace occurrences., and their severity was considerably heightened due to poor food transport facilities. Nowadays food can easily be trucked into a locale where the rains have failed, but in earlier centuries this was not the case and people had to live (for the most part) with what was grown in their immediate vicinity. Even someone as powerful as the Chola king could fall victim to a random bout of ecological misfortune like this. The soil is so hard that the king’s workers cannot get their plow tips to penetrate it. There is not even enough fodder left in the land to feed the king’s twelve favourite cows!

But what happens next is very interesting. Since cows are so revered, there is a way out.... at least for the king’s twelve finest milk-givers. He calls his scribe to the cowshed. There he asks him to write this message:

“This cow belongs to the Chola king. It is hungry and has been set free due to a great drought. If you find it please feed it and care for it well.”

The benevolent king then asks his scribe to make twelve copies of this message. The scribe uses a traditional stylus and writes on a well-dried and shaped palmyra palm leaf, as the custom of the day dictates. This was the local equivalent of paper. However, these leaves are hardy and quite resistant to damage, unlike our soft paper today. One of the twelve identical leaf copies is then tied to the ear of each of the king’s dozen hungry bovines. Now the king sets them free saying: “Farewell my beloved ones. Find a land where the crops are lush and eat your fill. I shall miss you.” His affectionate feeling towards his suffering cows is clearly genuine and heartfelt. . Cows were then, and still are, an object of affection... even of devotion. They are considered to be very special creatures by most Hindus. The king knows that they deserve all possible protection, and he expects that others, more fortunate than he at the moment, to provide for their care. Indeed it is both a social and a moral duty to do so.

In the next several blog posts we shall see what happens next. What I will state in advance is that cows were then, and still are, an object of both affection and devotion. They are considered to be very special creatures by most Hindus. How these wanders are destined to suffer will soon provide a key to understanding much of what happens later in The Legend of Ponnivala story. For this blog I will just elaborate on one theme: the wandering cow is a kind of saint, a world-renouncer. Just like one should honor itinerant holy men like those one can still see traveling the back roads of India today, wandering cows deserve food offerings and special respect. In a sense they are holy men (in this case holy females) in animal form. Local beliefs hold that it they are not treated

As such, dire consequences may follow their mistreatment. Indeed, we will see exactly that happen... very soon!

Signing off for now,

“Blogger” Brenda Beck

The Sophia Hilton Foundation of Canada

Read Part 25 ==>

<== Read Part 23

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To find out more about The Legend of Ponnivala -- the legend, the series, the books, and the fascinating history behind the project, visit www.ponnivala.com. 

WHY HAVE ALL THESE TREES BEEN FELLED?

This short and simple video excerpt is included here as a set of add-on comments that build on my last blog (1.22) where one of the regularly repeated songs in the The Legend of Ponnivala epic is featured. That song speaks about the beauty of Ponnivala, its ripening fields of paddy and its lush, green landscape vistas. My commentary there suggested that this is an ideal image, a state of abundance that was likely never quite achieved. The Kongu area is an upland plain originally covered with what one might call “scrub forest.”

In the Ponnivala story, the farmers’ clan ancestor Kolatta first “wins” Vishnu’s ritual contest. The outcome of that public event causes a major social earthquake: the independent artisans who previously enjoyed control of the lands of Ponnivala are displaced as its chieftains. They are shifted out of their former “seat” of control and transformed, via Vishnu’s public covenent, into a subordinate group of service providers. Hence forth they will now be dependent on the farmers for their food supplies. But that is just half of the story. Now that Kolatta is free to begin his own life in Ponnivala he sets about the several kinds of physical work that will be needed to support such a major social change. His mission is to bring his piece of the Kongu area, Ponnivala, under the plow, so as to transform the area into lush food-producing tribute-paying region. After all, he has been sent here to follow up on a command to do this that was issued by the highest authority in the land, the Chola king himself.

First we see an image of Ponnivala under great stress. The landscape is covered with felled trees. Admittedly, however, these “corpes” from the past do not come from a thick, tropical forest. Instead, the tree stumps are scattered across a sparsely wooded landscape. This is realistic. The Kongu plain was more of an upcountry, grassy open landscape than a truly forested area. This is why the local artisans had previously been able to survive there, supplementing their craftwork and trade activities with animal herding. Their planting activities were (one imagines) likely limited to plots of millet seeded using simple hoes and iron-tipped sticks. But now that Kolatta and his relatives have cut down the scattered trees the area looks forlorn.

Next we see the hero Kolatta walking behind a plow. It is pulled by two oxen. Furthermore, this pioneer farmer is accompanied by an associate, likely one of his brothers, who is wielding a second plow that moves across the earth in exactly the same way. Significantly, the enmity between the members of this male lineage does not start right away. In the first generation the nine brothers work together, at least as far as one can tell from the sparse details on this the story gives. It is only in subsequent generations, when these brothers’ families give birth to sons who are cousins, that cracks in this family’s solidarity begin to appear. The third scene provides a view of the landscape after its full, physical, transformation. This image is a little more “realistic” than the one that accompanies the song passage (blog 1.22), but it still tends towards idealism... showing a landscape with quite a bit more paddy than would have actually have been likely at this early stage. It is there, no doubt, because the narrator is trying to stress that the area “has greened” and changed so much as a result of Kolatta’s hard work. He is after all the story’s pioneer ancestor. His good works and epic farming skills have thus been given a status that is a bit “larger than life.”

Signing off for now,

“Blogger” Brenda Beck

The Sophia Hilton Foundation of Canada

Read Part 24 ==>

<== Read Part 22

Have you experienced The Legend of Ponnivala on TV or in print? Let us know your thoughts in the comments below!

To find out more about The Legend of Ponnivala -- the legend, the series, the books, and the fascinating history behind the project, visit www.ponnivala.com. 

DOES THE LAND BENEFIT FROM THIS FARMER’S PRAYERS?

This clip begins with Kolatta remembering the Chola king’s words. He will indeed worship the local goddess of who cares for Ponnivala’s lands, Celatta, three times each day. We see the couple involved in this together. The two greet the goddess respectfully. Then Kolatta’s wife sweeps and clears the area in front of the temple. Finally Kolatta himself waves an auspicious tray in front of the goddess. It holds a small camphor flame that is believed to carry the “essence” of the offerings placed below up to the goddess above. Their actual gift of fruits are placed at her feet along with a vessel of water (used to bathe her statue) and a bell (to help focus her attention on this couple’s act of praise). Another tray bearing a coconut-water pot combo and some incense sticks sits beside the fruits and is given the closest and most central position. What it holds is a traditional sacred symbol that (if I understand the symbolism correctly) makes reference to the on-going mystery and energy of life in the cosmos as a whole. This is a short but lovely ritual called a “puja” and the couple’s execution of the rite is modest but heartfelt. The goddess’ spirit and energy are just beginning to come back to the area after a long hiatus, that three-generation-period of non worship mentioned in my previous blog. This is why the temple as well as her personal icon still have a greyish (somewhat lifeless) look. This will change as Kolatta and his wife continue their worship of Celatta, on a daily basis, over the years to come.

The rest of the clip contains a song that praises the lands of Ponnivala and whose lines recur frequently throughout the performance of this long, long story. The images that illustrate the song are repeated elsewhere and actually show Ponnivala in an advanced state of plough and irrigation-based cultivation. During the song we first see images of local grains and of hay stacks but following these are scenes of young rice shoots being planted and then the moist paddy fields that result from this. This sequences shows a kind of ”crop progression” in crop types that did take place in the area as farming choices (and more importantly, advanced irrigation techniques) changed. But the good, heavy rains shown and abundance of rice also suggest wishful thinking. These are mentioned in songs and the images are used to praise the rule of a “good and generous” king. Good kings bring abundance to the land, just as does the regular worship of a protective goddess. More truthfully, the Kongu area (of which Ponnivala is a part) has never really looked like this! We are listening here to the words of a praise song. The poetic imagery used here to accompany the (translated) song lines needs to be understood in that context.

Signing off for now,

“Blogger” Brenda Beck

The Sophia Hilton Foundation of Canada

Read Part 23 ==>

<== Read Part 21

Have you experienced The Legend of Ponnivala on TV or in print? Let us know your thoughts in the comments below!

To find out more about The Legend of Ponnivala -- the legend, the series, the books, and the fascinating history behind the project, visit www.ponnivala.com. 

WHY HAS THIS GODDESS SHRINE BEEN NEGLECTED?

The goddesses who guard the key local areas in this Legend of Ponnivala story are very important. We will encounter three key divine females in this epic, each having their own distinct shrine. These goddesses are Celatta, Kali (who is a kind of Durga-figure) and Karukali (or the black and very fearsome Kali). I will have much more to say about these three females if I continue this blog far enough into to the future to reach their presence in later episodes. Karukali, in particular, does not appear until about three quarters of the way through this long legend. But here let me begin with Celatta. She is the family goddess for Kolatta’s family and she is very important.

In this clip we see that it is the Chola king himself who tells Kolatta that he should worship Celatta. She has a temple in Ponnivala that is there upon his arrival. But it has been badly neglected. No one has cared for her shrine for at least three generations. There is also a Ganeh temple nearby that has suffered the same fate. But the king focuses on Celatta. His instructions are that Kolatta should worship there at least three times each day. The unspoken understanding that the story tellers share with their listeners is that a goddess like this is associated with each local “nadu” or well-farmed (and well-ploughed) territory. When the goddess is well cared for it means that the lands are also being cared for properly.

Celatta is the ecological mistress who looks after the lushness and well-being of the lands that lie around her. Her welfare and that of the agricultural lands in her territory move inlock-step. Whenone thrives so does the other. Furthermore, Celatta also serves as the great goddess Parvati’s local representative on earth. When Parvati initially creates the nine farmers (blog 1.2) she is in a sense placing a part of herself there with them. But the farmers were not told initially to worship such a goddess. The is no mention of such a temple exiting in Vellivala. Perhaps this is part and parcel of its “wildness” and perhaps this is also why Kolatta and hisnine brothers first efforts in farming fail? In any event, the Chola king tells these men now, in no uncertain terms, that paying attention Celatta will be one of their primary duties. He does not say this, but the king certainly also realizes that his own interests are at stake in this. He is hoping to get a share of the farm produce from Ponnivala as the land is developed and becomes prosperous. The Chola king is hoping that Ponnivala will soon become one of his tribute-paying territories. Caring for Celatta will impact on that prosperity, which will in turn impact on his own revenues! Who might have worshipped Celatta here in the past, many generations back? We do not know. The legend does not answer that question. Perhaps it was a group of traders moving through the area who brought their own goddess from elsewhere in hopes of establishing a land claim but never brought this idea to fruition? We do know (from non-story sources) that Ponnivala was once an area criss-crossed by many important long-distance trade routes. Could others have brought this goddess here? Whatever the case, the Chola king does imply that the artisans have neglected to worship Celatta properly. Nor have these (like aboriginal) craftsmen taken to plough farming. The Chola is hoping that Kolatta will change all this, and indeed he will!

Signing off for now,

“Blogger” Brenda Beck

The Sophia Hilton Foundation of Canada

Read Part 22 ==>

<== Read Part 20

Have you experienced The Legend of Ponnivala on TV or in print? Let us know your thoughts in the comments below!

To find out more about The Legend of Ponnivala -- the legend, the series, the books, and the fascinating history behind the project, visit www.ponnivala.com.