Introduction: Social churning lends colour to kanwaria spectacle
A decade and half ago, kanwad was an obscure event. A kanwaria would pass the roads unnoticed, withdrawn to his own inner world. The pilgrimage at that time was an individual adventure. Now, it is no more so. Kanwad has metamorphosed into a social spectacle where an ocean of humanity bustles around for over a fortnight, particularly in and around Delhi.
The pilgrimage assumed mass proportions in the 90s — a decade marked by diverse and often contradictory changes in north Indian society. Backward and lower castes rose in power structure, while at the same time the rise of market economy pushed back the poor, semi-educated, unskilled and marginalised. Meanwhile, the expansion of media promised these very sections some visibility.
In this period, vernacular media wrested readership from the so-called national dailies. This change meant that people now wanted to hear about themselves, their identities and everyday world. In fact, much before kanwad became an issue for the English media, vernacular media was engaging with its nitty-gritties in an interactive way.
Kanwad is the subaltern counterpart of high-class religiosity. The pilgrim undertakes the journey to propitiate Shiva and ask for material comforts from the deity. Kanwad is a this-worldly discourse — the pilgrim does not seek liberation from the sorrows of life. Desire for the son, or that the business should prosper, keeps pilgrims rooted to the material world.
Kanwad is an extension of the performative culture of Bhagwati Jagrans and bhandaras which became popular in early 80s. Kanwad camps organised by the government and business groups in Delhi and elsewhere are actually many jagran sites put together. The prasad and devotional music offered in the kanwad camps are similar to the jagran set-up. The two spill into each other.
Earlier, kanwad was undertaken by rural folk. Today, it has transformed itself into an urban religious experience with as many as 11 forms doing the rounds. Until a few years ago we had only two variants of kanwad — baikunthi and khari. While baikunthi was meant for Parvati, khari, considered more arduous, was dedicated to Shiva.
Now there are new bizarre forms, like 'pandit' and 'vyapari' kanwad. One of these types, dak kanwad, has become a nuisance to the movement of city traffic.
The organisation of kanwad suggests the participation of social groups who favour a non-secular vision of society. The demand to arrange camps was first raised by BJP leaders in Delhi, apparently inspired by the example of Haj yatra. These leaders argued as to why Hindu pilgrims should not be given similar facilities, a demand informed by the idea of Muslim appeasement.
The urban segment of pilgrims is predominantly drawn from unplanned colonies, the youth and middle aged here are undereducated and poorly employed. These localities have a large number of third and fourth class government employees. PCOs, pan-bidi shops and small provision stores are commonplace. However, these colonies are also inhabited by those who have been benefited from haphazard, uncivic development.
Most of the population in unplanned colonies and slums is migrant in character, which perhaps two or three decades back had its roots in rural culture. Stripped of an older identity, the migrant and working people seek to craft a new one through kanwad.
In a society like ours where public and civic institutions fail to perform, religion and faith act as a mobilising force to nego-tiate a respectable place and get things done. Even a cursory look at linkages between kanwad camps and the state would reveal that people who manage and sponsor kanwad see it as an exercise in local power relationships. Those who started off as simple hearted, faithful pilgrims 10 years ago chose to become part of kanwad camp management as it threw up opportunities to forge a connection with the local bureaucracy and bigwigs.
Kanwad may also be seen as an expression of a mass culture of religious consumerism, encouraged by the audio and video industry. Every year, audio product companies bring out a number of cassettes, CDs and MP3s of kanwad bhajans and audio plays. The explosion of imagery and sound activates the popular imagination for the religious experience.
In some places, Shiva's marriage procession is broadcast by neighbourhood cable networks, which gives kanwarias and the people associated with the event a sense of community. In fact, it is the media, which has propelled kanwad centrestage, as people were not any less religious, say, 20 years ago.
Kanwad is a multilayered phenomenon. It has as much to do with religion as an assertion of identity in urban social
dynamics. It is the faith of the people who inhabit the backyard of urban world, living with too many constraints and too little opportunities. Hence the kanwarias' obsession with power and control of public spaces and roads.
The writer is a researcher with
the Centre for the Study of Developing Societies.