Chaturmaas begins this weekend, literally meaning ‘four months’. The four months are Shravan, Bhadrapada, Ashwin and Kartik. It starts on July 25 (Devshayani Ekadashi) and ends on November 20 (Devuthani Ekadashi). During this 119-day period, Lord Vishnu is believed to rest in Yoga nidra or yogic sleep, a powerful metaphor for Nature recharging her batteries. It also marks an annual slowdown in many Indian households, given the realities of the season.
Because ‘Mahavishnu is sleeping’, weddings and big events are traditionally paused. People use this time for fasting, prayer and cultivating inner peace. Its practical side—there is usually a practical side to Indian customs—is that Chaturmaas defines the damp season when travel was hard over muddy roads and all the bugs in creation seemed to be out and about. So people stayed home to remain safe and protect their health. Travel is still hard during the rains despite modern transport, is it not, and repellents have never translated into a final solution for mosquitoes and bugs, nor will they.
Not to be left out, demons are said to become active in Chaturmaas and harass humans, which sounds like a metaphor for dark, despairing thoughts when continuously housebound or water-logged. The scriptures say that to protect oneself, each person should undertake some form of vrata or fast. Chaturmaas is the suggested shield for mind and body, conceived as a collective kavach for society.
Thus, many people follow a simple, clean diet during Chaturmaas, when tummy upsets are easily triggered. They also give up certain foods each month. For instance, bug-prone green, leafy vegetables like spinach and even fresh coriander are avoided as Shaka Vrata in Shravan, the first month. Brinjal is avoided throughout Chaturmaas because it is known to get bug-infested during the rains.
Dadhi Vrata or no curds in Bhadrapada, the second month, when fermented foods were observed to spoil quickly, and Ksheera Vrata or no milk in Ashwin, the third month, because of spoilage in the high humidity with consequent stomach upsets. The weather improves by October for Sharad Navratri and Vijayadashmi, but Dwidala Vrata, or no lentils, was observed anyway in the fourth month because by then dal, too, was seen to host a worm population. These practices came from observation of which food worked for or against the body in this period. I, for one, like my coffee and curds round the year and feel quite brave about it because the fridge protects curds and milk. But I avoid leafy vegetables in Shravan, and eat less dal, or carefully inspect it first since dal is a staple. This is because I have learned to respect the medical wisdom of our ancients, which was based on the close, consistent study of cause and effect before making pronouncements.
Non-vegetarians are known to avoid fish during the rains, and everyone, of any dietary choice, is advised to avoid heavy, spicy food. How do we then satisfy the common monsoon craving for fried snacks like bajji, pakoras and their hundred-and-one cousins? Ah, says, ancestral wisdom. That’s why we put digestives like carom (omam or ajwain) and cumin in the batter so that we can have the pleasure without the punishment.
Sanyasis who normally travel around remain stationed in one place during Chaturmaas. When a genuinely learned sanyasi of honourable standing stayed over like that, the local community usually took advantage of his presence to gain spiritual knowledge. This is why Chaturmaas is also traditionally the season of satsang, katha saptaham and pravachan or upanyasam, meaning religious discourses, at temples, halls and homes across India.
When in Chennai, I really enjoy experiencing the rich tradition of religious discourse it offers if I’m lucky enough to catch it during a visit. The speakers are usually very eloquent and well-versed not only in the epics but also the Puranas and in a vast array of shlokas. With their depth of knowledge and passion, they open layers of understanding about stories we thought we knew.
One of my most intense experiences of upanyasam was listening for seven consecutive evenings, two hours daily, to a Tamil saptaham or week-long discourse on ‘Bharatam’, meaning the Mahabharata. The speaker was in his eighties, a witty, well-spoken bhagavathar who hailed from an old katha tradition in the deepest South. He swam effortlessly in and out of the holy text, using simple, straightforward language to reveal aspects of the epic that would never have occurred to those trapped in a narrow ‘modernity’. I know that many Indian languages are blessed with such gifted speakers, and urge everyone, of any persuasion, to attend a discourse on the epics if only for an evening, for an in-depth look into Indian culture. They are open to all. Treat it as a cultural outing, to share in the experience as a citizen of India, ‘the Mother of Story’. I am reasonably sure you won’t regret it.
As for those whose work or family duties may not allow them to attend such talks in person, technology is their friend, since there are many good talks online. We can pick a language and listen to something on the Ramayana, the easiest entry point, and switch around until we find a speaker whose style suits us. Indeed, everyone is urged to spend time with the Ramayana in Chaturmaas, especially in holy Shravan, to connect with Mahavishnu’s Yoga nidra energy during this time. Chaturmaas can be a healthy, happy season despite its many travails if we observe it with intention.
Renuka Naryanan | FAITHLINE | Senior journalist
(Views are personal)
(shebaba09@gmail.com)
