When the Serpents Call
When the serpents call we go back to my Dad’s ancestral home in Anakkara, Kerala. The red tile roofed traditional home has seen better days. The old pillars hold stories, some gnawed at by termites; some bravely glossy with years of use. There were days the home sheltered more than 40 people, fed many more and nurtured childhoods that we still hug close to our hearts. And all around the home is Nature in her primal role. Trees swaying in the gentle gusts, rooted amidst change. The forest, a sheltering canopy under the sun, shrouding mystery in the rustle of leaves; the call of unseen birds and the fragrance laden breeze. Deep in the intertwined landscape, is the sacred grove where the snake hood shaped stone sentinels reside as revered guardians of age old beliefs and practices in the Dravidian land. In the Malayalam month of Kanni (September-October), on the day of the Āyilyam nakshathram (star), Sarpa puja (Serpent Prayer) is performed to propitiate the snake gods who we pray to and offer thanks for protecting us. Our three Sarpa kavus have deities of Nāgarajavu, Nāga yakshi, Nāga kanya, Anjanamanināgam, Karināgam, Ayyapan and Karingutti (a demi-god). The puja for Karingutti was performed a couple of days earlier since its believed that if not propitiated earlier, the vengeful demi-god could wreak havoc during the main puja. We offered a mixture of rice flour, turmeric and milk to all the deities in the sacred groves.
Pantheism, the belief that exalts Nature and the universe as God, existed in most ancient cultures. Nature and her elements were worshipped as sentient beings who protected us. There were no lines separating Nature and the divine. It was later that anthromorphic (attribution of human form, character, or attributes to non-human entities) features were introduced to religious worship. Serpents are looked upon with fear, even derision; but in Kerala and the Tulunadu belt reverence displaces fear. The Sarpa Kavu or sacred forest shrines for serpents were built to placate the natural forces as more and more humans populated and imposed upon the habitat. Here the snakes are worshipped as a symbol of fertility and the sacred groves still exist as symbol of coexistence with nature, a crucial lesson for the present day as well as we inch towards unthinking annihilation of nature. Our ancestors elevated Nature to spirits that protect us and destroy us when angered. For the atheists and agnosts, a logical explanation would be to describe them as ecological pockets that preserve biodiversity, with the dire warning of ill effects and destruction if disturbed. I am sure even a diehard sceptic would agree to this logical perception. Personally I believe that gods, pantheistic or otherwise, aren’t vitriolic spirits. But the fear factor was probably introduced by our wise ancestors with the intention to protect us and dissuade rebellious behaviour. Essentially the intent was to let the scared groves be undisturbed and preserve the ecological balance. I do not claim to be an expert but as a person who is spiritual rather than religious this is my egoless surmise.
Nature has, of late, time and again nudged us about our decadence and expressed her fury through acerbic changes in weather conditions, floods, forest fires, mud slides and droughts. They are but reminders to change our erring ways. Like the wise person who closes a leaking tap to save every drop of water or the elder who teaches you to use every part of the banana tree and introduces you to circularity, these groves endure like a ship with big sails in a bottle, as a seed that grows into a tall tree, as mother nature, in her entirety, cocooned in a microcosm.
Today there’s yet another call from these sacred groves. A call to congregate and meet the dispersed family once a year and express our gratitude. The Sarpa kava puja is like an invitation to connect like old times and reminisce childhood memories and celebrate our ancestors and roots, who made us in their image. And it’s for us to pass on this wisdom to the ones who follow us.
