Castes and Tribes of Southern India. Vol. 6 of 7

by Edgar Thurston

Apparently the bride is selected for a young man by his parents, and, in the same way that a wealthy European sometimes sends his betrothed a daily present of a bouquet, the more humble Paniyan bridegroom-elect has to take a bundle of firewood to the house of the fiancée every day for six months. The marriage ceremony (and the marriage knot does not appear to be very binding) is of a very simple nature. The ceremony is conducted by a Paniyan Chemmi (a corruption of Janmi). A present of sixteen fanams (coins) and some new cloths is given by the bridegroom to the Chemmi, who hands them over to the parents of the bride. A feast is prepared, at which the Paniyan women (Panichis) dance to the music of drum and pipe. The tāli (or marriage badge) is tied round the neck of the bride by the female relations of the bridegroom, who also invest the bride with such crude jewelry as they may be able to afford. The Chemmi seals the contract by pouring water over the head and feet of the young couple. It is said[45] that a husband has to make an annual present to his wife’s parents; and failure to do so entitles them to demand their daughter back. A man may, I was told, not have two sisters as wives; nor may he marry his deceased wife’s sister. Remarriage of widows is permitted. Adultery and other forms of vice are adjudicated on by a panchāyat (or council) of headmen, who settle disputes and decide on the fine or punishment to be inflicted on the guilty. At nearly every considerable Paniyan village there is a headman called Kūttan, who has been appointed by Nāyar Janmi to look after his interests, and be responsible to him for the other inhabitants of the village. The investiture of the Kūttan with the powers of office is celebrated with a feast and dance, at which a bangle is presented to the Kūttan as a badge of authority. Next in rank to the Kūttan is the Mudali or head of the family, and they usually constitute the panchāyat. Both Kūttan and Mudali are called Mūppanmar or elders. The whole caste is sometimes loosely spoken of as Mūppan. In a case of proved adultery, a fine of sixteen fanams (the amount of the marriage fee), and a sum equal to the expenses of the wedding, including the present to the parents of the bride, is the usual form of punishment.

The Chemmi or Shemmi is, I am informed, a sort of priest or minister. He was appointed, in olden days, by the chieftains under whom the Paniyans worked, and each Chemmi held authority over a group of villages. The office is hereditary, but, should a Chemmi family fail, it can be filled up by election.

No ceremony takes place in celebration of the birth of children. One of the old women of the village acts as midwife, and receives a small present in return for her services. As soon as a child is old enough to be of use, it accompanies its parents to their work, or on their fishing and hunting expeditions, and is initiated into the various ways of adding to the stock of provisions for the household.

The dead are buried in the following manner. A trench, four or five feet deep, and large enough to receive the body to be interred, is dug, due north and south, on a hill near the village. At the bottom of this excavation the earth is scooped out from the western side on a level with the floor throughout the length of the grave, so as to form a receptacle for the corpse, which, placed on a mat, is laid therein upon its left side with the head pointing to the south and the feet to the north. After a little cooked rice has been put into the grave for the use of the departed spirit, the mat, which has been made broad enough for the purpose, is folded up and tucked in under the roof of the cavity, and the trench filled up. It has probably been found by experience that the corpse, when thus protected, is safe from the ravages of scavenger jackals and pariah dogs. For seven days after death, a little rice gruel is placed at distance of from fifty to a hundred yards from the grave by the Chemmi, who claps his hands as a signal to the evil spirits in the vicinity, who, in the shape of a pair of crows, are supposed to partake of the food, which is hence called kāka conji or crow’s rice.

The noombu or mourning ceremonies are the tī polay, seven days after death; the kāka polay or karuvelli held for three years in succession in the month of Magaram (January-February); and the matham polay held once in every three or four years, when possible, as a memorial service in honour of those who are specially respected. On all these occasions the Chemmi presides, and acts as a sort of master of the ceremonies. As the ceremonial carried out differs only in degree, an account of the kāka polay will do for all.

In the month of Magaram, the noombukarrans or mourners (who have lost relatives) begin to cook and eat in a pandal or shed set apart from the rest of the village, but otherwise go about their business as usual. They wash and eat twice a day, but abstain from eating meat or fish. On the last day of the month, arrangements are made, under the supervision of the Chemmi, for the ceremony which brings the period of mourning to a close. The mourners, who have fasted since daybreak, take up their position in the pandal, and the Chemmi, holding on his crossed arms two winnowing sieves, each containing a seer or two of rice, walks round three times, and finally deposits the sieves in the centre of the pandal. If, among the male relatives of the deceased, one is to be found sufficiently hysterical, or actor enough, to simulate possession and perform the functions of an oracle, well and good; but, should they all be of a stolid temperament, there is always at hand a professional corresponding to the Komāran or Vellichipād of other Hindus. This individual is called the Patalykāran. With a new cloth (mundu) on his head, and smeared on the body and arms with a paste made of rice flour and ghī (clarified butter), he enters on the scene with his legs girt with bells, the music of which is supposed to drive away the attendant evil spirits (payanmar). Advancing with short steps and rolling his eyes, he staggers to and fro, sawing the air with two small sticks which he holds in either hand, and works himself up into a frenzied state of inspiration, while the mourners cry out and ask why the dead have been taken away from them. Presently a convulsive shiver attacks the performer, who staggers more violently and falls prostrate on the ground, or seeks the support of one of the posts of the pandal, while he gasps out disjointed sentences, which are taken to be the words of the god. The mourners now make obeisance, and are marked on the forehead with the paste of rice flour and ghī. This done, a mat is spread for the accommodation of the headmen and Chemmi; and the Patalykāran, from whose legs the bells have been removed and put with the rice in the sieves, takes these in his hands, and, shaking them as he speaks, commences a funeral chant, which lasts till dawn. Meanwhile food has been prepared for all present except the mourners, and when this has been partaken of, dancing is kept up round the central group till daybreak, when the pandal is pulled down and the kāka polay is over. Those who have been precluded from eating make up for lost time, and relatives, who have allowed their hair to grow long, shave. The ordinary Paniyan does not profess to know the meaning of the funeral orations, but contents himself with a belief that it is known to those who are initiated. The women attend the ceremony, but do not take part in the dance. In fact, the nearest approach to a dance that they ever attempt (and this only on festive occasions) resembles the ordinary occupation of planting rice, carried out in dumb show to the music of a drum. The bodies of the performers stoop and move in time with the music, and the arms are swung from side to side as in the act of placing the rice seedlings in their rows. To see a long line of Paniyan women, up to their knees in the mud of a rice field, bobbing up and down and putting on the pace as the music grows quicker and quicker, and to hear the wild yells of Hou! Hou! like a chorus of hungry dogs, which form the vocal accompaniment as they dab the green bunches in from side to side, is highly amusing.

The foregoing account of the Paniyan death ceremonies was supplied by Mr. Colin Mackenzie, to whom, as also to Mr. F. Fawcett, Mr. G. Romilly, and Martelli, I am indebted for many of the facts recorded in the present note. From Mr. Fawcett the following account of a further ceremony was obtained:—

At a Paniyan village, on a coffee estate where the annual ceremony was being celebrated, men and boys were dancing round a wooden upright to the music of a small drum hanging at the left hip. Some of the dancers had bells round the leg below the knee. Close to the upright a man was seated, playing a pipe, which emitted sounds like those of a bagpipe. In dancing, the dancers went round against the sun. At some little distance a crowd of females indulged in a dance by themselves. A characteristic of the dance, specially noticeable among the women, was stooping and waving of the arms in front. The dancers perspired freely, and kept up the dance for many hours to rhythmic music, the tune of which changed from time to time. There were three chief dancers, of whom one represented the goddess, the others her ministers. They were smeared with streaks on the chest, abdomen, arms and legs, had bells on the legs, and carried a short stick about two feet in length in each hand. The sticks were held over the head, while the performers quivered as if in a religious frenzy. Now and again, the sticks were waved or beaten together. The Paniyans believe that, when the goddess first appeared to them, she carried two sticks in her hands. The mock goddess and her attendants, holding the sticks above the head and shivering, went to each male elder, and apparently received his blessing, the elder placing his hand on their faces as a form of salutation, and then applying his hand to his own face. The villagers partook of a light meal in the early morning, and would not eat again until the end of the ceremony, which concluded by the man-goddess seating himself on the upright, and addressing the crowd on behalf of the goddess concerning their conduct and morality.

The Paniyans “worship animistic deities, of which the chief is Kūli, whom they worship on a raised platform called Kulitara, offering cocoanuts, but no blood.”[46] They further worship Kāttu Bhagavati, or Bhagavati of the woods. “Shrines in her honour are to be found at most centres of the caste, and contain no image, but a box in which are kept the clothing and jewels presented to her by the devout. An annual ceremony lasting a week is held in her honour, at which the Komāran and a kind of priest, called Nolambukāran, take the chief parts. The former dresses in the goddess’ clothing, and the divine afflatus descends upon him, and he prophesies both good and evil.”

Games.—A long strip of cane is suspended from the branch of a tree, and a cross-bar fixed to its lower end. On the bar a boy sits, and swings himself in all directions. In another game a bar, twelve to fourteen feet in length, is balanced by means of a point in a socket on an upright reaching about four feet and-a-half above the ground. Over the end of the horizontal bar a boy hangs, and, touching the ground with the feet, spins himself round.