The Chhattisgarhi Variant as Regional Epic

Older Chhattisgarhi informants told me in 1980 that in Chhattisgarh, too, Candaini singers used to be primarily from the cowherding Raut caste. Its multicaste audiences and the seemingly easy adaptation of the epic to innovative performance styles available to performers from a wide spectrum of castes suggest, however, that it was never "caste-owned" in the sense that it is in U.P. A possible explanation for differences in the caste-epic relationship are the respective castes' self-image.

One fifty-year-old Raut male gave the following account of the dispersion of the caste. In "former days" all the Rauts of the area used to go to Garh Rivan (the home of Lorik in the epic and the present-day village mentioned above) to celebrate the Raut festival of matar.^[18] Then one year, King Kadra, of a basket-weaving caste, battled against the Rauts. Many Rauts were killed, and the survivors scattered from Garh Rivan and settled "here and there." Since that time, according to the informant, Rauts have no longer gathered at Garh Rivan to celebrate matar, but rather celebrate it in their own villages. We cannot know from such an account whether or not the caste was, in fact, ever a cohesive martial or administrative power. Their perception, however, is that they were once stronger and more unified than they are now.

In the more recent past, Chhattisgarhi Rauts have traditionally seen themselves as "village servants," who herd and milk the village cattle, rather than as warriors who protect caste honor and boundaries.^[19] Lorik, as a Chhattisgarhi Raut, is not portrayed as the U.P. martial hero brandishing a sword, riding on a horse, but primarily as a lover whose only weapon is his herding staff and who travels on foot. Further reflecting a Chhattisgarhi ethos in which women have more mobility and arguably higher status than their sis-

ters in the Gangetic plains, the heroine is the primary initiator of action in Chhattisgarhi performances; it is frequently she who protects and saves Lorik rather than the other way around. Thus, although the singing of the epic may have been first associated with the cowherding caste of its singers, the tradition as it has been documented in the last fifteen to twenty years does not suggest a strong caste identity.^[20]

Part of what gives the epic tradition its regional identification in Chhattisgarh is its performance contexts and the broad social base of its audiences and performers today. Two basic performance styles of Candaini have developed in Chhattisgarh. Both styles are most commonly called simply Candaini, but when the styles are distinguished, the first is called Candaini git or song, and the second naca, or dance-drama. As mentioned earlier, traditionally, Candaini git singers were male members of the Raut caste who sang the epic both professionally and nonprofessionally to primarily male audiences, but with women sitting on the sidelines. Rauts sang without musical accompaniment; but essential to their performance was a companion (ragi or sangvari ) who joined in the last words of every line and served as a respondent. Today, it is difficult to find Rauts who still sing in the git style without instrumental accompaniment. The only such singer I knew died in 1988, and none of his sons were interested in learning or continuing his father's tradition. As one informant observed, "How can this [that is, style with no musical accompaniment] compete with video halls?" The repetitious response by the ragi, however, is still one of the primary characterizing features of both instrumentally accompanied git and naca Candaini performance styles.

The dates and circumstances in which members of the Satnami caste took up the git style of Candaini performance are undocumented and vague in caste and regional memory. Yet when I was looking for epic performances in the 1980s, I was frequently told that I would find Candaini only in those areas with large numbers of Satnamis. The Satnamis are a sect that converted in the 1800s from the outcaste Camar, a leather-working caste, but whose conversion did not raise their status from that of the lowest caste groups. It is probable that when they began to sing Candaini professionally, it began to attract more diverse audiences and to take on its current regional identification. The Satnamis added musical accompaniment to the git performance style, including, minimally, harmonium and tabla; but, as mentioned above, they have retained the combination of lead singer and one or more "companions," whose response lines end with mor or tor.^[21]

Because I have little comparative data to use from "purely" Raut performances, it is difficult to know exactly how the narrative may have shifted when the Satnamis began to sing the epic professionally, particularly in its portrayal of the "villain" character, the Camar Bathua who tries to accost Candaini in the jungle. In one Satnami performance, however, Lorik meets Bathua again

after their initial confrontation in the heroine's maternal village. Bathua reappears as the bodyguard of a foreign king whom Lorik has offended (by chopping off the nose of one of his subjects), so the king sends Bathua to punish him. This time their confrontation is martial, and Lorik is unable to defeat the untouchable physically. He is pinned to the ground, and Candaini has to beg Bathua for mercy. The Camar gives in but says Lorik must tie him up so that the king will think he has been defeated, not compassionate. Lorik eventually wins the kingdom through both battle and trickery and names it after the untouchable Bathua. When I later discussed this episode with several non-Satnami villagers, they told me that Satnamis have tended to glorify the character of Bathua and that a Raut singer would never have included such an episode, glorifying the heroism of the Camar.

The second Candaini performance style, called naca (literally, "dance"), includes song and dance, spoken conversations between characters, and narration in the git, responsive style.^[22] According to naca performers, the naca is said to have developed in the early 1970s in response to the strong influence of the increasingly popular Hindi cinema, an essential element of which is also song and dance. A naca troupe consists of up to eight or ten performers, some of whom are actors and others musicians. An important feature of the naca is the inclusion of costuming and minimal props. The hero Lorik carries a herding staff and wears traditional Raut festival dress, decorated with peacock feathers and cowrie shells; male performers put on saris and typical Chhattisgarhi jewelry to act out the female roles. The musicians sit at the side of the stage and accompany the songs of the actors or provide their own sung narration in the Candaini git style. Candaini is only one of many narratives performed in the naca style, but naca troupes that specialize in Candaini do so to the exclusion of other narratives. Although this style has grown in popularity, it is expensive to patronize. When sufficient funds for the naca cannot be raised, or if troupe members are singing nonprofessionally, the git style, without dance, can still be heard.^[23]

The performance context of the naca is important in establishing the epic's regional character. Troupes are usually multicaste, heavily represented by Satnamis, but also by other middle-level castes, including Rauts. One performance troupe I met consisted of ten members from six different castes. Troupes are hired by village/neighborhood councils for annual village fairs or festivals or as independent entertainment events. Occasionally, a family will sponsor a performance to celebrate the birth of a son or a wedding. Naca audiences, too, represent the caste spectrum of a particular village or urban neighborhood, male and female. Nacas are performed in public space such as a village or town square or main street, accessible to everyone. Persons from surrounding villages frequently walk several miles to attend nacas in neighboring villages, and audiences may reach as many as 200 participants.

The enthusiastic and responsive participation of women in the primary

audience of the Candaini naca stands in sharp contrast to the all-male audiences and performance contexts of the U.P. variants of the epic. In 1980 when I asked female audience members if women ever sang Candaini in Chhattisgarh, they all answered negatively. I did hear segments of the epic narrative and reference to its characters in other female performance genres, which they did not, however, identify as "Candaini" because of the performance context and singing style. "To sing Candaini" means to sing in a public context and, more specifically, to incorporate at some level the responsive singing style of the Candaini ragi, with his end-line words of tor or mor. What these women were singing was identified by context as a harvest-dance song, not by content as Candaini.

In recent years, there have been a handful of individual female performers who have performed professionally the git style of Candaini, accompanied by male ragas and musicians. They are usually self-taught and have gained meteoric popularity because of their unusual position as professional, public female performers. Several audience members told me: "Who wouldn't go to hear a woman? There's more entertainment in that!" One such female performer is Suraj Bai, who, in 1987, was hailed in a local English-language newspaper as "the melody queen." She had represented Chhattisgarh at national and state folk festivals and had performed on nationwide television and radio; yet, the newspaper article bemoaned, she still worked as a daily-wage laborer. Over the last five years in Chhattisgarh, the epic tradition of Pandvani is experiencing a similar rise in popularity, primarily attributable to the fact that the tradition is being performed by two professional female singers, Tijan Bai and Ritu Varma, who have gained notoriety through their performances on television and radio. Both women have traveled extensively around India and even as far as Paris and New York for festivals of India.

Although Candaini female performers are still unusual, the worldview expressed by both female and male performers of the Chhattisgarhi epic is a female-centered one.^[24] The heroine Candaini is the dominant character in the pair of lovers and the initiator of most of the epic action. She and other women are not portrayed as property to be exchanged and protected (as they are frequently depicted in the U.P. variants); rather, they are resourceful and take initiative, relying not on the ritual power of their chastity, as women frequently do in dominant-discourse narratives, but upon their own intuitive common sense.

Candaini's dominant role in the Chhattisgarhi epic first becomes evident when she makes the decision to leave her husband when their relationship is not fulfilling to her. Then it is she, rather than Lorik, who initiates their relationship; she sees him in the competition with her assailant Bathua and sets about to seduce him. In one version, she asks her brother to build a swing for her next to the path that Lorik uses every day to get to his wrestling grounds. As Lorik passes by, Candaini asks him to swing her. When he de-

clines, she curses him. This so angers him that he violently swings her, causing her to fall off the swing and giving him the opportunity to catch her.^[25]

The next time they meet, Candaini suggests a joking sexual relationship with Lorik by calling him her devar (younger brother-in-law), with whom such a relationship is permissible. Having grown up in the same village, they would normally call each other brother and sister, precluding a sexual relationship; changing the terms of address is often one of the first indications of a change in the nature of a relationship in Chhattisgarhi rural life and oral traditions. Finally, Candaini openly invites Lorik to visit her during the night, telling him how to get past various guards that stand at the entrance to her palace. As their relationship develops, it is also she who suggests and pushes for the elopement to Hardi Garh.

Candaini's resourcefulness and courage are illustrated by numerous examples from Chhattisgarhi episodes of the epic. In one performance, when the couple is eloping and their way is blocked by a flooded river, Candaini, not Lorik, figures out how to cross. She first procures a small boat from the ferryman stationed at the crossing. Lorik accuses her of negotiation of more than transportation with the ferryman, however, and in jealousy splits the boat and its owner in two with his sword. He then goes into the jungle and cuts down some green wood to build a raft, which, of course, immediately sinks. It is Candaini who knows it must be built with dry bamboo, tied together with lengths of a forest vine. When the ferryman's wife comes to bring him his breakfast and sees him dead, she immediately suspects the eloping couple of murder and creates a magical mouse to hide in their raft.

Halfway across the river, the stowaway mouse bites through the ropes holding together the raft. Candaini manages to reach the far shore, but Lorik does not know how to swim and starts to drown. The heroine unties her braid, jumps in, and saves him, presumably by pulling him ashore with her hair.^[26] Candaini's ingenuity and physical strength in this episode stands in sharp contrast to a similar scene in the U.P. variant in which Lorik's wife calls upon the power of her chastity (her faithfulness to her husband, sat ) to cause the waters of a river to part.

A female worldview is again reflected in a wonderful episode of the eloping couple's journey through a kingdom of all women. Candaini sends Lorik into the town to buy them some betel leaf (pan ) He is tricked by the pan- seller to follow her home, where she "keeps her best pan" (to feed pan to a member of the opposite sex in Chhattisgarhi folklore is often to initiate a sexual relationship, or may be used as a metaphor for intercourse itself). Once the pan-seller has trapped Lorik in her house, she threatens to beat him with a bamboo pole and stuff his skin with straw, poke his eyes out with a needle, and, finally, brand him with a hot crowbar unless he promises to marry her. After each threat, he gives in, only to recant a few minutes later. Finally, Candaini comes looking for her partner and meets the pan -seller in

the bazaar. The pan -seller begs the epic heroine to help her with a man who refuses to marry her. Candaini discovers a sari-clad Lorik in the woman's courtyard, having been so disguised so as to hide his male identity in the all-female kingdom. Once his identity is made known, the two women agree to play a round of dice to determine who will win him as husband. Note that although this is a reversal of the gender roles in Sanskritic, male dicing games, which are played to win a woman in marriage or as a sexual partner, the motif of women dicing over the fate of men is found in other Chhattisgarhi folk narratives. Candaini triumphs in her dice game with the pan -seller and frees Lorik from his captivity. One can hardly imagine the martial hero of the U.P. variants of the epic permitting the pan -seller's physical humiliations to be forced upon him or to be dependent upon rescue by a woman in a women's world.

Even in several episodes in which Lorik takes the primary role in a confrontation, it is still a woman who tells him how he can win, and the means are rarely traditional "heroic" ones. The first such confrontation is between Lorik and the Camar Bathua. Candaini's mother says the only man who can successfully confront Bathua is the "sporting hero Lorik."^[27] Lorik's wife, Manjari, however, warns him that he will not be able to defeat the Camar in a normal wrestling competition. She suggests that the confrontation be one in which the men are buried up to their waists in separate pits by the other man's wife. The man who can first get out of his pit and beat the other man will be the winner. Lorik agrees to this. When the women are burying each other's husbands, Manjari begins to throw gold coins on the ground. This so distracts the Camar's wife that she only loosely packs the dirt around Lorik and then runs to pick up the coins. Meanwhile, Manjari has time to bury Bathua firmly. When the time comes for the men to try to get out of their pits, Bathua is stuck. Lorik jumps right out and soundly defeats the Camar.

Candaini's beauty and a male's desire for her are the source of several major conflicts in the Chhattisgarhi variant, and in these situations she is physically threatened and needs physical protection like the women in the U.P. versions. As we have seen above, however, if Lorik is left to his own strength and resources, he may or may not be able to provide Candaini with the necessary protection. Judging by her resourcefulness in other situations, one senses that if she had no male to protect her physically, Candaini would come up with alternative solutions. Furthermore, when her chastity is protected by Lorik, only her personal honor is at stake. The personal honor of a Chhattisgarhi Raut woman does not necessarily extend to the honor of her family and caste. One of the main episodes in the U.P. variant making this connection between the three levels of honor—the story of Lorik saving Manjari from having to marry a king outside the Ahir caste is not present at all in the reported and performed versions I have seen in Chhattisgarh. The other U.P. episode making this association explicit is Lorik's defeat of Bathua,

which saves the honor of Candaini and the Ahir caste. In Chhattisgarhi versions, Candaini's mother, in asking Lorik for help, is not as concerned with honor as with physical safety: Bathua is terrorizing the entire village, so that everyone is afraid to go out of their homes, and the cattle are dying from lack of fodder and water.^[28]

As the role of women increases in importance in the Chhattisgarh variant, we have seen that the character of the hero also shifts. He is no longer the ideal protector and warrior. When he does engage in battle, he usually employs nonmartial, often unheroic, means to win; when the battle is honest, he battles without the aid of large armies, elephants, or other military paraphernalia, which support him in U.P. versions. He is a simple cowherder whose weapons are his own physical strength and herding staff. In this epic variant that centers around elopement love, the hero's status as warrior is less important than that as lover.

An important way Lorik's lover role is highlighted in Chhattisgarh is through the elaboration of the character of Bawan Bid, Candaini's impotent first husband. His impotence and passivity give emphasis to Lorik's sexual prowess and virility. One naca performance portrayed Bawan as a buffoon who is always wiping his nose with his fingers and licking the snot off of them. During the twelve years of his impotence, he wanders the forest as a sadhu (religious ascetic) but is easily frightened by any strange noise and welcomes Canda's company when she comes to the forest to try to persuade him to give up his asceticism. Both Satnami and Raut versions agree that Bawan Bir's impotence is the result of a curse cast upon him by the goddess Parvati. A Satnami version of the curse incident recounts that Bawan used to tease the Raut girls who picked up cow dung in the jungle every day. One day, Parvati took the form of one of these girls, and Bawan began to tease her. She revealed her true form to him and cursed him with impotence for his audacity. The Raut version says that one day Bawan Bir left a leaf cup of milk sitting on the ground, from which he had drunk. Shiva, in the form of a snake, came up to the cup and drank out of it. Subsequently, he began to acquire the rather obnoxious personality of Bawan Bir, quarreling with and scolding his wife, Parvati. When Parvati realized why this personality transformation had occurred, she cursed Bawan with impotence.

Bawan Bir is also impotent in the U.P. epic variant; the fact, however, is given little elaboration in the performances reported by Pandey. In the Awadhi version, we learn of the impotence in a single line. The performer tells his audience that Bawan is a eunuch with no hair on his body, but he gives no reason for the condition, although the audience knows the reason is a curse from Durga. Another story circulates in Ballia, U.P., that Bawan encircled his large penis around a Shiva liniga, a phallic representation of Shiva, and that the god cursed him with impotence for trying to compete with him.^[29] Whatever the reason, Bawan's impotence is overshadowed in the

U.P. versions by his martial nature. He, too, is a powerful warrior when he battles and defeats Lorik's older brother and confiscates all of their family wealth and cattle, and again in the battle in which Lorik regains this wealth at the end of the epic.