We are all geographers, whether we realize it or not, whether we acknowledge it or not. So, every bit of curiosity that we feel about the world around us is valid and important.
If we follow that curiosity up with exploration we will be richly rewarded with not just knowledge but also perspective. Developing a knowledge-based perspective is crucial for us to be Citizen Geographers.
The world needs every well-informed Citizen Geographer it can get!
More than once I have shared aspects of sacred geographies with you. Sacred geography is the geography associated with holy places and faith. Therefore, they are part of faithscapes – landscapes of faith.
My journey
My guru, Dr Surinder Mohan Bhardwaj was the first person who taught me how to appreciate and try to understand how faithscapes can be powerful. Subsequently, I read some of the writings of two other eminent cultural geographers – Dr Jaipal Singh and Professor Mumtaz Ali Khan. Their work also enlightened me on many aspects of faithscapes.
As usual, my journey in exploring faithscapes began with a conversation. This one was with my guru in 1990. He told me that I should begin presenting academic papers in the annual South Asia Conference at the University of Wisconsin (Madison), USA. He said that it is an important meeting place for many types of scholars who specialized on topics about South Asia.
I was looking for an opportunity to tap into Dr Bhardwaj’s vast knowledge on sacred geographies. This was just what I needed!
I wanted to study the connections between an 18th century composer in Karnātaka sangīta (the southern Indian style of classical Indian music; sangīta = music) and sacred geography.
In a series of conversations, we developed our joint paper for the conference that year.
I was hooked!
Since then, I have been learning how to apply the different concepts that he taught me and how to appreciate the power of geography.
Today, I want to take you on a related journey.
Śrī Purandara-dāsa
Previously, I have written about how sacred places can occur anywhere.
Śrī Purandara-dāsa (I’ll shorten his name to ‘SPD’ from here on) lived during 1484–1564 – the zenith and the onset of decline of the Vijayanagara Empire. The empire’s dates are approximately 1336–1646.
He is one of the most important personalities of the bhakti (devotion) movement in Karnataka. You have probably read a little about him in your history lessons, if you study the Karnataka state social science syllabus.
There is also a lot of geography associated with him.
In the streets
SPD followed a tradition among the hari-dāsas called ūncha-vrtti – they would wander the streets, singing devotional songs, carrying a shoulder bag, a stringed instrument of some kind (often a single string, but may be also a four-stringed tambūri), cymbals or clappers, and anklet bells. (Look at the iconography in the image at the top of this page.)
As they wandered the streets, people would give them alms.
A hari-dāsa would collect only as much alms as was needed for him and his family for one day. If there were any excess at the end of the day, it would be given away to others. Nothing could be kept for the next day. The idea is that God will provide.
Or not.
Whichever way it went, the hari-dāsa accepts the situation as God’s will.
All this background is important for a reason.
A person who practices that life is considered a devout person, and therefore holy. When s/he came walking along the street, it was a sacred place that was moving along the street and coming to our doorstep. That sacred place was blessing us by coming to us and we showed our respect by giving alms. This alms-giving was an honor, not an act of charity. Therefore, a wandering hari-dāsa was a wandering sacred place – their path was a sacred trace.
The message
What was the message the hari-dāsas brought to the streets?
Simply put: the importance of devotion to God, living a moral (just and fair) life, and not being overly attached to wealth and power. These messages were brought to people in the language commonly spoken and understood.
The samskrtam (Sanskrit) scriptures were kept in orthodox religious establishments. The hari-dāsas translated those complex ideas into easily understandable Kannada. (This Kannada is largely spoken in Karnataka even today). They used examples and similes that a large number of people could understand.
Therefore, the ideas that were housed in the libraries of the traditional religious establishments were brought out into the streets for everyone – geographers call this cultural diffusion. This was a great democratizing of knowledge.
It helped in the diffusion of ideas in the local geographical space where the hari-dāsas lived. Centuries later, we too enjoy them.
Thanks to that powerful tool – the internet – people around the world can access these ideas. Boundaries of language and politics are crossed very easily; it’s almost as if there were no boundaries at all!
Next time, I’ll take a few examples of SPD’s songs and look at the geography connections.
A version of this article appeared in the Deccan Herald Student Edition, September 2017
Featured image: Line drawing of Purandaradāsa. (Image courtesy: http://bit.ly/2ngs1UU)
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