Spreading the Word: The Puranic Recitation Model
Although belief in the power of the oral sacred word dates back to the earliest period of Indo-Aryan culture, the notion of the social role of sacred text has changed considerably during the past two millennia. The preservation of the Vedic corpus was insured by an elaborate system of education within Brahman lineages, by the notion of the text as an efficacious mantra that could never be altered, and by the evolution of the spoken language, which fossilized and fixed the Vedic forms. The result was the extraordinary oral preservation of much of Vedic literature. But preservation and transmission need not imply propagation and dissemination. Oral performances of Vedic texts were not, apparently, fully public occasions; large segments of the population—notably, all women and Shudras—were forbidden ever to hear the sacred words. Indeed, the insistence on oral transmission in the Vedic educational system (which continued even into the period when writing had become commonplace and other religious texts were being written down) presupposed the view that texts such as the Rg[*] veda were not merely too sacred to be written down but also too powerful to be made generally available. Access to the texts had to be restricted not only to specific persons but also to persons in specific conditions—to twice-born males who had entered a ritually pure state. Thus, even though Vedic literature was an "oral tradition," it was not, within historical times, a "popular" one.
[4] Reported by Pandit Ramkumar Das of Mani Parvat, Ayodhya, interview, April 1984.
With the rise of devotional cults centered on post-Vedic divinities, the prevailing view of the accessibility of the sacred word underwent a profound change. The words of the scriptures—the newer epic and Puranic texts as well as the Vedic corpus—were still viewed as potent and efficacious. But in contrast to the generally elitist focus of the Vedic tradition, the devotional cults emphasized a relative spiritual egalitarianism and put forth the view that ultimate salvation lay within the reach of everyone, for it depended on the grace of a supreme deity—usually Vishnu, Shiva, or the Goddess—whom devotional theology placed far beyond the hierarchies of this world and whose primary relationship with humankind depended on bonds of love and compassion. Equally important, the medium through which people learned of this god was the "old story," the Purana.
The Puranas catalog the epithets and attributes of their chosen deities and detail instances of the god's compassionate intervention in cosmic affairs. They also announce—frequently and often at considerable length—their own efficacy and the many benefits to be derived from listening to, reciting, or copying them or causing others to do so. These texts emerged during the period when Brahmanic Hinduism was sustaining a severe challenge from the "heretical" sects of the Buddhists and Jains, who actively proselytized among occupational and ethnic groups deprived of status by the Brahmanical establishment. The response to this challenge involved not merely a restatement of the orthodox position but a new synthesis, which absorbed many aspects of the heterodox critique. Puranic Hinduism itself became proselytizing, and the fact that the primary media of its message of salvation were written collections of stories necessitated a new attitude toward the preservation and dissemination of text.
In the absence of printing, manuscripts had to be copied frequently in order to preserve them from the perils of the climatic cycle and from (in Anjaninandan Sharan's words) "his majesty the white ant."[5] Communicating such texts to a predominantly illiterate audience necessitated frequent public recitation, and listeners were encouraged to memorize and repeat sections of them. All of these objectives are reflected in the texts, especially in the phalsruti verses, which detail the rewards attendant on hearing, reciting, or copying a Purana.
Examples of such built-in textual promotion appear in the c. tenth-century Bhagavatapurana[*] , which became one of the most influential
[5] The phrase appears in his essay "Manas ke pracin tikakar[*] ," in which he laments the disappearance of many old manuscript commentaries on the epic; in Poddar, ed., Kalyan[*] : Manasank , 908.
Vaishnava scriptures. The mahatmya of this text—a panegyric in six chapters—details the merits to be obtained from reciting or hearing it or from presenting a copy of it to a devotee. For example, it declares,
That house in which the recitation of the Bhagavata occurs daily, becomes itself a holy place, destroying the sins of those who dwell there. He who recites daily one-half or one-quarter of a verse of the Bhagavata , secures the merit of a rajasuya and asvamedha sacrifice.[6]
But although grandiose rewards are said to attend upon even minimal involvement with the Bhagavata , the meritorious activity prescribed most often and in greatest detail is the hearing of the entire text over a period of seven days. The benefits of this procedure are emphasized repeatedly: it cancels out even such cardinal sins as the murder of a Brahman (4.13), bestows certain liberation (1.21), and is, in fact, superior to every other kind of religious activity (3.51, 52). The third chapter of the mahatmya explains the origin of this procedure as a concession to the constraints of the present Kali Yuga, or Dark Age.
Since it is [now] not possible to control the vagaries of the mind,
to observe rules of conduct,
and to dedicate oneself [for a long period], the hearing [of the Purana]
in one week is recommended.[7]
The sixth chapter of the mahatmya is devoted to instructions for undertaking a recitation program, covering such details as the selection of an auspicious date and time for the program, the preparation of the site, and the dietary restraints and other vows to be observed by reciter and listeners. Such prescriptions suggest the ritual nature of the performance, which is further revealed by the repeated identification of the program as a "seven days' sacrifice" (saptahayajna ).[8] However, although the sponsorship of this "sacrifice" is a matter of individual initiative (and the sponsor, like the Vedic patron, or yajamana , can expect to reap personal benefits from the performance), the program is to be a public rather than a private event. The instructions detail even the wording of invitations and announcements to be sent out, recommend that people attend "with their families," and specifically urge the program to be brought to the attention of women and Shudras—the very groups excluded from hearing the recitation of the Vedas.[9]
Similar instructions can be found in other Puranic texts; they serve to remind us that the Puranas, in Giorgio Bonazzoli's words, "are not
[6] Srimadbhagavatamahapurana[*] 1:17; mahatmya 3.29, 3.38.
[7] Ibid. 1:18; mahatmya 3.47.
[8] Ibid. 1:22; mahatmya 4.10-4.14.
[9] Ibid. 1:36; mahatmya 6.5-6.6.
private books, but rather 'liturgical' texts. . . . They are public religious books, which are often used for specific public rituals."[10] Puranic passages prescribe recitation programs of varying lengths, but seven and nine days are the most commonly recommended durations. The former, as noted, has become standard for the Bhagavata ; the latter for its apparently later rival, the Devibhagavata , which glorifies the exploits and theology of the Goddess. Given the composite nature of the Puranas and the likelihood that they were repeatedly rewritten over the course of centuries, it is difficult to determine when such rituals came into use; Bonazzoli notes that the most detailed prescriptions appear to belong to the "most recent" strata of the texts and hence may date back no further than a "few centuries," although this does not preclude the possibility that they describe procedures already in use at an earlier period.[11]
The current systems of nine- and thirty-day recitation of the Manas seem to derive, in turn, from this Puranic tradition, though it is unclear at what point the vernacular epic acquired for its audience the kind of status that allowed such ritualized performance. Some scholars question whether either system much predates the nineteenth century and point out that instructions for systematic recitation are notably absent from older (pre-1800) manuscripts of the epic.[12] We can surmise that the recitation of the Hindi epic was conducted in the beginning along less formal lines and only gradually became ritualized.
Popular belief, however, attributes the origin of the practice of nine-day recitation to Tulsidas himself, citing a well-known legend recorded in the hagiography Mulgosaim[*]carit , which was allegedly composed seven years after Tulsi's death by one of his intimate circle, Benimadhav Das (d. 1643). The discovery of a manuscript of this work in a village in Bihar in 1926 occasioned much excitement—and also much skepticism—from literary scholars, several of whom have pronounced it a late nineteenth-century fabrication[13] Such criticisms notwithstanding, the
[10] Bonazzoli, "Composition, Transmission, and Recitation of the Puranas[*] ," 273.
[11] Ibid., 270.
[12] Such was the finding of C. N. Singh, who examined a large number of manuscripts in the course of his work on the Kashiraj Trust edition (interview, July 1983). Ramkumar Das likewise questions the antiquity of the practice of masparayan[*] (interview, April 1984). The earliest published edition known to me to contain annotations for a month's recitation is the one edited by Madhav Das (Banaras, 1862); it contains breaks after every thirty-five or thirty-six stanzas (an example of the santulit , or "even" scheme).
[13] The criticisms of such scholars as Shridhar Pathak, Pitambardatt Barathval, and Mataprasad Gupta are summarized by Kishorilal Gupta in Gosaim[*]carit , 4-5,.53-60. They include traces of the Khari Boli dialect, the suspicious abundance of names and dates, and the use of the phrase satyam[*]sivam[*]sundaram[*] , which Barathval asserts is a translation of the English "the true, the good and the beautiful." For a rough translation of the Mul , see Gopal, Tulasidas: A Literary Biography , 87-112.
biography, issued in an inexpensive edition by Gita Press as early as 1934, has helped shape the popular conception of Tulsi's life. It abounds in miraculous incidents glowingly reported (i.e., Tulsi at birth possesses a full set of teeth, is the size of a five-year-old, and immediately utters the word Ram ). The miracle relevant to the present discussion is alleged to have occurred when Tulsi was en route to Delhi. The beautiful daughter of a certain nobleman was, through a deception, betrothed to a person of her own sex.[14] When the truth became known after the marriage, the families of the couple appealed to Tulsi to save them from disgrace.
They approached him; compassion filled the saint's heart.
For their sake he performed a nine-day recitation. . . .
The woman became a man when the recital was completed.
Thrilling with delight, Tulsi cried, "Victory! Victory to Sita-Ram!"[15]
Apart from asserting the origin of nine-day recitation in Tulsi's own practice, this story suggests the power that such a performance can release. This theme is echoed in other legends and highlights the fact that, as in the case of seven-day recitations of the Bhagavata , nine-day Manas recitations are usually undertaken to achieve some specific material or spiritual end.
Whereas navahparayan[*] . recitation frequently occurs in the context of public performances, the daily discipline of masparayan[*] . is more typically an individual or family activity, and its present popularity thus has two preconditions that have been met only in recent times: the existence of a significant audience of literate devotees and the ready availability of copies of the text. The current vogue for masparayan[*] thus appears to be historically related to the advent of both mass education and popular publishing in North India.[16]
[14] Two noblemen had agreed to marry their unborn children, but when daughters were born to both, the mother of one of the girls concealed the truth until after the betrothal. The motif of miraculous change-of-sex is common in folktales, and this story has a clear precursor in the Mahabharata tale of the princess Shikhandini, who was changed into a prince after a similar deception; see van Buitenen, trans., The Mahabharata 3:521-28 (Udyoga parva 60.189-93).
[15] Gupta, Gosaim[*]carit , pp. 298-99 (Mulgosaim[*]carit, soratha[*] 18, doha 78). Significantly, the Gosaim[*]carit (a hagiography attributed to one Bhavani Das and probably composed in the middle of the eighteenth century) contains the change-of-sex story as well, but the transformation is effected simply through sanctified food (prasad ) given by Tulsidas; there is no mention of a nine-day recitation. Gupta regards this text as the likely model for the Mulgosaim[*]carit; Gosaim[*]carit , 185-86.
[16] A survey of the early publishing history of the Manas would make an interesting study in itself. For present purposes, I assembled a preliminary list drawn from J. F. Blumhardt's catalogs of the India Office Library and British Museum, from Dr. Mataprasad Gupta's survey of Hindi publishing (Hindipustak sahitya ), and from a few private collections. The combined data from these sources, though impressive (more than 125 editions of the Manas during its first century in print), hardly furnish a complete picture, and I have no doubt that a careful examination of the regional records kept after 1867 under the provisions of the Registration of Books and Press Act would provide data on many other editions.
A published edition of the Manas emerged as early as 1810 from Calcutta, the city in which, partly because of the presence and patronage of the College of Fort William, popular publishing in Hindi as well as Bengali had its start. The editions issued during the next five decades document a westward movement of publishing activity into the heartland of the Hindi belt, with editions appearing from Kanpur (1832), Agra (1849), Meerut (1851), and Banaras (1853). The real explosion in Manas publishing, however, occurred only after 1860; during the next two decades more than seventy editions of Tulsi's epic appeared from large and small publishing houses located in cities as widely separated as Calcutta, Bombay, Delhi, and Lahore and from numerous smaller centers in between. Notable during this period was the steadily growing size of many editions as they came to include greater amounts of front and back matter as well as line-by-line prose translations and longer commentaries on the text.[17] Some of the appended features—such as glossaries of "difficult words" and explanations of mythological allusions in the text—suggest that the audience for the Manas was growing beyond the boundaries of the epic's linguistic and cultural homeland.[18] The authors of the paraphrases and commentaries offered in these expanded editions, like the editors of the earlier generation of simpler mul editions (containing the Manas text alone), were scholars known in their home regions for their oral exposition on the epic; their reputations, as well as the influence of their interpretations, were greatly enhanced by their being featured in such widely sold editions as those of Naval Kishor Press of Lucknow and Shri Venkateshvar Steam Press of Bombay. Thus, the availability of mass-printed editions contributed not only to increasing the reading and recitation of the Manas but also to creating new patrons and audiences for the art of oral exposition.
An important development in the modern dissemination of the Manas was the founding in the early 1920s of the Gita Press in Go-
[17] Complete editions in the 1860s were typically of three hundred to five hundred pages, whereas those issued from the 1880s on frequently contained eight hundred to eleven hundred pages.
[18] Editions in Gurumukhi script began appearing from Lahore and Delhi in about 1870; editions transliterated into Bengali script and accompanied by Bengali commentaries began appearing from the 1880s; the succeeding decade saw the publication of similar editions in Gujarati.
rakhpur, a small city in northeastern Uttar Pradesh. The activities of this press constitute a significant chapter in North Indian cultural history and are especially relevant to the rise of the Sanatan Dharm (Eternal Faith) movement, of which the founder and editor of the press, Hanuman Prasad Poddar, was an influential spokesman. In 1926 the press began issuing a handsomely printed monthly called Kalyan[*] (Beneficence), which was intended to present the Sanatani message to a mass audience. Each year, this journal appeared in eleven ordinary issues and one book-length special issue that focused on a chosen theme. Because the journal rapidly became a household word among pious Hindus and its issues were treasured and shared among relatives and friends, its relatively modest printing figures belie the extent of its impact.
One of Poddar's early objectives was to make available on a mass scale a "critical edition" of the Manas ; to this end Kalyan[*] issued an appeal for early manuscripts, in the hope of obtaining a complete one in Tulsi's own hand. This hope was not realized, and in the 1930s Poddar, with the help of Anjaninandan Sharan, a scholarly sadhu of Ayodhya, began to assemble an edition based on the oldest available manuscripts. The fruit of his labor—and a milestone in popular Hindi publishing—was the long-awaited Manasank (Manas special issue) of Kalyan[*] , which appeared in August 1938. More than nine hundred pages long and lavishly illustrated with specially commissioned paintings embellished with gold and protected by waxed slipsheets, it looked less like a journal than like a family heirloom—and such it became for thousands of North Indian families. It contained the complete Manas text accompanied by Poddar's verse-by-verse prose translation, as well as extensive front and back matter. It had an enormous (by Indian standards) first printing of 40,600 copies and became the basis for the many editions subsequently issued by Gita Press—which range from tiny "pocket" (gutka[*] ) versions containing only the basic text to huge folio-size volumes with commentary, appendixes, and illustrations. The popularity of these editions, which are seen all over North India today, may be gauged from the example of the pocket version, which by late 1983 had gone through seventy-two printings for a total issue of 5,695,000 copies, with two printings of 100,000 copies each in 1983 alone.[19]
The advent of modern-language publishing was a phenomenon with
[19] Information taken from the title page of the 1983 edition; Poddar, ed., SriRamcaritmanas , mulgutka[*] . Such figures must be appreciated in light of the still-low literacy rate in Hindi-speaking regions and the comparatively high cost and modest sales of most books.
profound consequences. The expensive and time-consuming process of manuscript copying was rendered obsolete, and literature suddenly came into the hands of both the urban and the rural middle classes. This development meant that all literate persons acquired the potential for a kind of participation in sacred literature that had formerly been the domain of a specialist elite. Books could be read, of course, for private enjoyment and edification, but sacred books could now also be recited by nonspecialists. The meritorious activity of path[*] , rooted in the immemorial belief in the potency of the recited sacred word and encouraged by the Puranic tradition, was now facilitated by the ready availability of revered texts.
When people acquire the ability to read, what do they choose to read? The observations of nineteenth-century British scholars and administrators confirm that, by their time at least, the Manas had become established in North India as the religious text and cultural epic par excellence and had come to permeate and influence Hindu society as its very archetype of literature: its Book. Growse reported that the epic, "is in every one's hands, from the court to the cottage, and is read, or heard, and appreciated alike by every class of the Hindu community, whether high or low, rich or poor, young or old."[20] And while their Indologist colleagues devoted themselves to the study of the Sanskrit classics, British administrators and missionaries, out of expedience, studied the Manas . Grierson was to recall:
Half a century ago, an old missionary said to me that no one could hope to understand the natives of Upper India till he had mastered every line that Tulasi Das had written. I have since learned to know how right he was. . . . Pundits may speak of the Vedas and Upanishads, and a few may even study them . . . but for the great majority of the people of Hindustan, learned and unlearned, the Ramayana[*] of Tulasi Das is the only standard of moral conduct.[21]
Vibhuti Narayan Singh, present maharaja of Banaras and heir to a family that has patronized the Manas for more than two centuries, told me that among the nineteenth-century aristocratic and landowning families of eastern Uttar Pradesh, the ability to read the epic was virtually the criterion of literacy: "When they were considering a girl's qualifications prior to marriage, then the question would come up as to whether
[20] Growse, The Ramayana[*]of Tulasidasa , lv.
[21] Grierson (source not identified), quoted in Gopal, Tulasi Das , x; Growse also notes that a knowledge of the Manas was considered essential for a civil administrator; The Ramayana[*]of Tulasidasa , lvi.
she could read. If she was literate, then they would say proudly, 'Of course, she reads the Manas .'"[22] His younger brother recalled the role the epic played in their own education—as the means by which their mother taught them the alphabet: "She would form letters for us out of snippets of paper—a line, a circle, a hook shape—to make the various characters ka, kha , and so forth. Then she would say, 'Now go look in the Ramayan and find one like this,' and we would find a caupai that had that letter. Then Mother would recite that to us. In this way we learned our whole alphabet from the Manas ."[23]
Before leaving the subject of the various systems of path[*] and their origins, something must be said about the numerical divisions used. Why seven days to read the Bhagavatapurana[*] and nine or thirty for the Manas ? Clearly all three numbers are expressions of completeness or totality, corresponding to basic divisions of time and space in the Hindu worldview. Seven not only represents a full week (called "a seven"—saptaha —in Sanskrit) but is also used to express many kinds of completeness—the seven oceans, seven divisions of the world, seven mystical steps to heaven, and so forth. Similarly, thirty days—one lunar month—represents a complete unit of "light" and "dark" fortnights. This paradigmatic light/dark dualism gives rise to a variety of religious associations; for example, the worship of celestial deities is performed during the bright half of a month (suklapaksa[*] ), whereas the dark fortnight (krsna[*]paksa[*] ) is more suited to the worship of autochthonous fertility deities and the souls of departed ancestors. Each lunar cycle is also a microcosm of the greater cycle of the year, which is similarly divided into "light" (devayan ) and "dark" (pitryan[*] ) halves.[24]
Because they encompass such fundamental dualities, the lunar months of the Hindu calendar are complete units of time in a ritual sense, as the "profane" (for Hindus) months of the Christian calendar—used for government and business purposes—can never be. To undertake a parayan[*] —a ritual "completion"—of a sacred text within such a time span is to achieve a kind of heightened completeness. Of course, devotees do not necessarily time their recitations to correspond to calendar months. More commonly, they choose an auspicious date to begin their reading—often a date associated with an incident in the story, such as the fifth of the bright half of Margshirsha (November/December), the
[22] Vibhuti Narayan Singh, interview, February 1983.
[23] C. N. Singh, interview, February 1984.
[24] For a brief introduction to the North Indian Hindu calendar, see Freed and Freed, "Calendars, Ceremonies, and Festivals in a North Indian Village."
traditional wedding anniversary of Ram and Sita. Dating systems have been published for the epic, which match a specific lunar date to virtually every incident in the narrative.[25] Besides satisfying the scholasticism of Ramayanis—traditional epic specialists—such systems provide devotees with an enhanced sense of identification with the characters and incidents of the text and permit them to select auspicious days for their own undertakings based on its archetypal chronology.
Even though the number nine does not correspond to any basic calendrical unit, it too represents a cosmological totality, its prime association being with the nine planets (nav grah : i.e., the sun, moon, the five planets known to ancient Indian astronomy, and the asterisms Rahu and Ketu). It is used in other contexts to connote completeness, as in the "nine portals" of the body and the "nine precious gems" found in the earth.[26] But whereas the number nine has cosmological significance, it does not appear to have the same positive connotations as the number seven; the nine planets are each characterized by specific attributes, and two of them, Mangal and Shani (Mars and Saturn), are predominantly malevolent while two others, Rahu and Ketu, are demons associated with dangerous cosmic phenomena—eclipses of the sun and moon. These are cosmic entities from which one seeks protection—for example, by wearing rings and bracelets containing the metal or gem associated with the dangerous planet or by worshiping powerful protective deities (as in the modern worship of Hanuman on Tuesday and Saturday).
Although nine-day recitation appears to have become merely a formalized standard for the Manas , its adoption may be rooted in the popular conception of Ram as a beneficent and protective hero. As already noted, nine-day recitations of the Manas are usually associated with a specific objective such as gaining a boon or averting danger (e.g., Tulsi's legendary use of the ceremony to save a family's honor). A modern pamphlet on the ritual uses of the Manas includes an account of a navah
[25] An example is Vijayanand Tripathi's "Manas ki tithi talika," in Tulsigranthavali , ed. Shukla, 3:29-35. Tripathi calculates, for example, that the first meeting between Ram and Sita occurred on the fourteenth of the bright half of Ashvin; that the cutting off of the demoness Shurpanakha's nose occurred on the thirteenth of the bright half of Magh, and so on. Some popular editions include similar tables.
[26] Nine may also have special significance within the structure of the Manas . Ramayanis are fond of numerological speculation, and one has used the argument that nine is the "ultimate" number (because the addition of the integers of its multiples always results in nine) to explain Tulsi's presentation of his doctrine of the divine name in nine stanzas (1.19.1-28.2); Din, Manasrahasya , 91-109. I am grateful to Kali C. Bahl for bringing this text to my attention.
performed by a sadhu in order to save the life of a critically ill (and unbelieving) English boy.[27] One of my Banarsi acquaintances, an enthusiast for the thirty-day recitation of the epic, mentioned two occasions on which she had undertaken navahparayan[*] : each was an emergency involving the serious illness or injury of a close family member. The successful outcome of both crises had, she said, greatly deepened her faith in the power of the text. The persistent associations of the Ramayan with protection and succor may be reflected in its ritualized recitation over a period associated numerologically with powerful and dangerous cosmic forces.
A second observation about the number nine likewise concerns the calendar and the appeasement of dangerous divine beings, in this case the mother goddesses, whose mythology reflects a paradoxical relationship between fertility/nurture and destructiveness. The two most important festivals for the worship of these goddesses occur over periods of nine days—or rather, "nine nights" (navratra ); both fall in the bright halves of months and have important associations with the Ramayan story. The Navratra festival in Chaitra (March/April) climaxes on the ninth lunar day of the bright half of the month, which is also the birthday of Ram (Ram Navami). Its counterpart in the month of Ashvin (sometimes called mahanavratra , or "great nine-nights") is immediately followed by the "victorious tenth" (Vijaydashami), which commemorates the goddess Durga's slaying of the buffalo-demon and is also the festival of Dashahra, celebrating Ram's defeat of Ravana. This conjunction of festivals is seen as no coincidence, for it is commonly believed that Ram himself worshiped the goddess for nine nights to obtain the power (sakti ) necessary to slay his demon foe. Moreover, his awakening of this destructive power during the month of Ashvin is held to have been "untimely" (akalbodhan ) and hence to have required special protective measures.
In this connection, it is noteworthy that the first printing of the Gita
[27] Sarasvati, Mantra ramayan[*] ., 60-68. A hardy perennial of the religious bookstalls, this text includes many of the same ritual prescriptions given in the 1938 Manasankof Kalyan[*] . The navah story is original, however, and concerns "Marsh Sahab," who as a boy of ten fell ill and was given up as hopeless by his doctors. His father, the collector of Dacca, allowed one Mahant Ramdas to perform a navah on behalf of the boy, who was placed in a room with five reciters and periodically given spoonfuls of caranamrt[*] (the water with which the feet of the deity had been washed). The samput[*] (see below, p. 69) was a special one "for averting untimely death" (5.30, a doha that tells how Sita kept her life-breath from departing while she was held captive in Lanka). According to Sarasvati, Marsh not only recovered fully and lived to become the commissioner of Aligarh, he remained a lifelong brahmacari (celibate) and devotee of the Manas ; his grateful father "took care of" a land dispute for Mahant Ramdas.
Press pocket edition of the Manas was specifically for an "All-India" parayan[*] recitation during the Chaitra Navratra observances in 1939, a performance that had been promoted for months in the pages of Kalyan[*] .[28] The encouragement by the journal's publishers of mass reading of the Manas during the "nine nights" of goddess worship again suggests the role of the epic as a synthesizing element in North Indian religion, specifically as a mediator between the traditions of Vaishnava devotionalism and Shaiva/Shakta worship. Both as a cultural epic and as the most accessible religious text of the region, the Manas becomes the text of choice for filling any vacuum in popular religious practice. Since the "nine nights" are explicitly devoted to worshiping the mother goddesses, one might expect to hear a recitation of the Devibhagavatapurana[*] , which indeed has a history of association with this festival.[29] But since this text is in Sanskrit, it is not suitable for mass recitation. Now that a need is perceived for a mass path[*] to complement the puja conducted over the nine nights, the Manas is enlisted to fill the void.
In my fieldwork, I found a similar line of reasoning used to explain the sponsorship of Manas recitation programs by Devi temples in the Banaras area, such as Kamaksha Devi in the neighborhood known as Kamacha, a shrine revered as a localized manifestation of the famous tantric center at Kamrup in Assam. A nine-day recitation and exposition festival is sponsored by this temple annually during the month of Paush; in structure, it is a scaled-down version of some of the large navah programs described later in this chapter. When I questioned a devotee of the temple as to why a text dealing specifically with the Goddess was not selected for performance in this setting, I was told, "Yes, of course they could recite the Devibhagavata or some other Purana, but in that case, few people would come to the program. So they choose the Manas , because it appeals to everyone—rich and poor, literate and illiterate—and is sure to bring in a crowd."[30] If the Manas is the best choice for logistic/promotional reasons, its use can be justified equally easily on theological grounds. A college student remarked to me in connection with the same program, "In the Manas is found the story of the marriage of Shiva and Bhavani, and so many other stories. So we feel that in it all the deities are honored, and it can be recited in praise of any of them."[31]
[28] Information taken from the preface to Poddar, ed., Sri Ramcaritmanas , mulmajhli , 3-4.
[29] Rocher, The Puranas[*] , 168-72. Certain shorter Devi texts are indeed commonly recited during the period, notably the Durgasaptasati .
[30] S. Shrivastav, interview, January 1983.
[31] Om Prakash, interview, January 1983.
In this example, as indeed in the whole phenomenon of nine-day recitation, we see the Manas both conforming to the model of the Puranas and eclipsing them as the preeminent text for public performance.