Neelim Akash Kashyap
(neelimassam@gmail.com)
Ageni.
’ The word is closely associated with an Assamese folk tradition known as ‘Dhuliya’ and is familiar to those who love folk culture and remain deeply connected to their roots. My acquaintance with ‘Jageni’ is as old as my acquaintance with Dhuliya—perhaps even older. It goes back to my childhood, to those days when I wore a half-pant and ran about the village chasing dragonflies. I was born in a remote village named Bori in Assam’s Nalbari district. The historic village of Kaihati lies next to Bori. Kaihati is the place where the Kamrupiya Dhuliya tradition found its identity and was preserved through generations. One of its pioneers, Mohan Bhaira, was also born there. The Dhuliya artistes of Kaihati used to practise in the courtyard of Barkaihati Namghar. Directly opposite the Namghar was a vast open paddy field, and my native village, Bari, stood along the edge of that field.
‘Jageni’ was performed before the main Dhuliya presentation and even before rehearsals began. The performers beat the huge Bordhol in a particular manner, creating a powerful sound that travelled far beyond the performance space. In this folk tradition, that distinctive call of the drum was known as ‘Jageni.’ The sound of the Borthol could be heard from our home. As I grew older, I often went to Kaihati to watch Dhuliya practice, but I was especially curious about one thing: Jageni.
The word ‘Jageni’ essentially means to awaken; in some contexts, it can also carry the sense of calling out or inviting someone. And that is where Mahalaya reminds me of Jageni. Just as a ‘Jageni’ is performed at the beginning of the Dhuliya folk tradition to call and invite the audience, a similar presence of this ‘Jageni’ seems to be felt, albeit indirectly, in the autumn festival as well. Mahalaya is observed before the annual Sharadiya Durga Puja. In a sense, then, could we not regard Mahalaya as a kind of ‘Jageni’ announcing the arrival of Durga Puja, or as a ritual invocation of Goddess Durga!
Mahalaya marks the end of Pitru Paksha and the beginning of Devi Paksha. According to popular belief, Pitru Paksha is the sacred period for remembering and performing rituals for departed ancestors. Pind daan is offered with the belief that it helps the souls of the departed attain peace and, ultimately, the path to heaven. Devi Paksha, on the other hand, belongs to the Goddess. It is the time when Goddess Durga is believed to descend to the earth to destroy evil and restore the balance between good and evil. According to a traditional Hindu belief, the fifteen days from the appearance of the moon in Bhadrapada until the full moon are regarded as Devi Paksha—the time of the Goddess. In North India, the nine days following the new moon of Bhadrapada are observed as Navratri. Devi Paksha is considered a particularly auspicious period for seeking the grace and blessings of the Goddess.
There are also beliefs that during the time of King Suratha, Durga Puja was celebrated in spring, and the tradition of Vasanti Puja still continues in some places. According to another well-known Puranic tradition, it was around this time that Lord Rama worshipped Goddess Durga in autumn to seek her blessings before going to war with Ravana and rescuing Sita. This autumnal worship came to be known as ‘Akal Bodhan’. There are different interpretations and traditions surrounding these beliefs, yet for many people, Mahalaya remains deeply connected with the beginning of the autumnal Durga Puja tradition.
Traditionally, the observance associated with Mahalaya extends over seven days, beginning seven days before Durga Puja as part of Devi Paksha. A day before Mahalaya, before the moon of Bhadrapada appears, the eyes of the Durga idol are painted. This ritual is known as ‘Chakshudan’—the giving of eyes. During these seven days, lamps are lit every evening, the sound of ‘dhak’ and ‘dhol’ fills the surroundings, and worship continues from evening into the night, accompanied by ‘shloka’s and ‘stotra’s. The prayers continue until late at night. People pray that epidemics may disappear, that misfortune and evil may stay away, that jealousy and unrest may leave our lives, that the earth may remain green with crops, and that life may be filled with peace and warmth. They pray for happiness, prosperity and progress for everyone. These prayers are not merely words; they carry the hopes of countless people who have, generation after generation, welcomed the Goddess into their lives.
During Mahalaya, the Ganga seems to turn into a sea. The countless people who gather along its banks make the river look like a vast sea of humanity. Although Mahalaya marks the beginning of Devi Paksha after the end of Pitru Paksha, the tradition of offering ‘pind daan’ to departed ancestors continues in many places during Mahalaya as well. The practice is especially visible along the banks of the Ganga, where it is known in many places as ‘Tarpan.’ Tarpan continues for several days, and people offer clothes and sweets to the waters of the Ganga in memory of their departed ancestors. The rituals are generally performed from morning until noon, although the exact timing may vary from place to place. On these days, the Ganga is no longer merely a river. The countless people who gather along its banks transform it into something larger—a sea of faith, memory and emotion.
In West Bengal, one of the places where Mahalaya is celebrated with extraordinary grandeur, a special devotional invocation has been broadcast on local radio for many years on the occasion of Mahalaya, calling upon the Goddess to awaken: ‘Jago Tumi Jago...’ And with that call, the waiting begins—the autumn air changes, the drums begin to speak, the riverbanks fill with people, and memories of those who are gone mingle with prayers for those who remain. Somewhere between remembrance and celebration, between the farewell to Pitru Paksha and the arrival of Devi Paksha, Mahalaya quietly announces that the Goddess is on her way.