Yānādis.
They are, like the Irulas of Chingleput, very partial to sour and fermented rice-water, which is kept by the higher classes for cattle. This they receive in exchange for headloads of fuel. For some time past they have been stopped by the Forest officers from drinking this pulusunīllu, as it makes them lazy, and unfit for work.
The marriage ceremony is no indispensable necessity. The Adavi Yānādis, as a rule, avoid it; the Reddi Yānādis always observe it. The parents rarely arrange alliances, the parties concerned managing for themselves. Maturity generally precedes marriage. Seduction and elopement are common occurrences, and divorce is easily obtained. Adultery is no serious offence; widows may live in concubinage; and pregnancy before marriage is no crime. By nature, however, the Yānādis are jealous of conjugal rights, and attached to their wives. Widowhood involves no personal disfigurement, or denial of all the emblems of married life.
A widow has been known to take, one after another, as many as seven husbands. The greater the number of her husbands, the more exalted is the status of a widow in society, and the stronger her title to settle disputes on questions of adultery, and the like. Polygamy is common, and a Yānādi is known to have had as many as seven wives, whom he housed separately, and with whom he lived by turns. The marriage ceremony is undergoing change, and the simple routine developing into a costly ceremonial, the details of which (e.g., the “screen scene”) are copied from the marriage rites of higher castes in the Telugu country. Until quite recently, the flower of the tangēdu (Cassia auriculata) did duty for the tāli, which is now a turmeric-dyed cotton thread with a gold bottu suspended from it. The auspicious hour is determined by a very simple process. The hour is noon, which arrives when a pole, two feet high, stuck vertically on the marriage platform, ceases to throw a shadow. The pole has superseded the arrow used of old, and sometimes a purōhit is consulted, and gives the hour from his calendar.
As a punishment for adultery, the unfaithful woman is, at Srīharikota, made to stand, with her legs tied, for a whole day in the sun, with a basket full of sand on her head.
The maternal uncle receives a measure of rice, a new cloth, and eight annas, at the head-shaving ceremony of his nephew. At this ceremony, which is a borrowed custom, the uncle plucks a lock of hair from the head of the lad, and ties it to a bough of the aruka tree. The head is shaved, and the lad worships the village goddess, to whom a fowl is offered. The guests are feasted, and the evening is spent in a wild torch-light dance.
At the first menstrual period, a Yānādi girl occupies a hut erected for the purpose, which must have within it at least one stick of Strychnos Nux-vomica, to drive away devils. On the ninth day the hut is burnt down, and the girl cleanses herself from pollution by bathing. A woman, after confinement, feeds for three days on the tender leaves, or cabbage of the date palm (Phœnix sylvestris), and then on rice. Margosa leaves, and sometimes the leaves of other trees, and the knife with which the umbilical cord was cut, are placed under the infant’s head for six days. A net is hung in front of the door, to keep out devils. The baby is given a name by the soothsayer, who pretends to be in communication on the subject with the god or goddess.
The Yānādis pose as prophets of human destinies, and, like the Nīlgiri Kurumbas, pretend to hold intercourse with gods and goddesses, and to intercede between god and man. Every village or circle has one or more soothsayers, who learn their art from experts under a rigid routine. The period of pupilage is a fortnight spent on a dietary of milk and fruits with no cooked meat, in a cloister in meditation. The god or goddess Ankamma, Poleramma, Venkatēswaralu, Subbaroyadu, or Malakondroyadu, appears like a shadow, and inspires the pupil, who, directly the period of probation has ceased, burns camphor and frankincense. He then sings in praise of the deity, takes a sea bath with his master, gives a sumptuous feast, and becomes an independent soothsayer. The ardent soothsayer of old wrought miracles, so runs the story, by stirring boiling rice with his hand, which was proof against scald or hurt. His modern brother invokes the gods with burning charcoal in his folded hands, to the beat of a drum. People flock in large numbers to know the truth. The word is rangampattedhi in North Arcot and sodi in Nellore. The soothsayer arranges Chenchu Dēvudu and the local gods in a separate dēvara illu or house of god, which is always kept scrupulously clean, and where worship is regularly carried on. The auspicious days for soothsaying are Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. The chief soothsayer is a male. The applicant presents him with betel nuts, fruit, flowers, and money. The soothsayer bathes, and sits in front of his house smeared with black, white, red, and other colours. His wife, or some other female, kindles a fire, and throws frankincense into it. He beats his drum, and sings, while a woman from within repeats the chant in a shrill voice. The songs are in praise of the deity, at whose and the soothsayer’s feet the applicant prostrates himself and invokes their aid. The soothsayer feels inspired, and addresses the supplicant thus: “You have neglected me. You do not worship me. Propitiate me adequately, or ruin is yours.” The future is predicted in song. In these predictions the rural folk place abundant faith.
The Yānādis bury their dead. The corpse is laid on leaves in front of the hut, washed and clad. Pēlalu (parched rice) is thrown over the corpse by the son and all the agnates. It is eventually placed on a bier, covered with a new cloth, and carried to the burial ground, by the sons, or, in the absence thereof, the sapindas. At a fixed spot near the grave, on which all corpses are placed, a cross is drawn on the ground, the four lines of which represent the four cardinal points of the compass. Close to the corpse are placed betel leaves and nuts, and a copper coin. All present then proceed to the spot where the grave is to be dug, while the corpse is left in charge of a Yānādi called the Bathyasthadu, who, as a rule, belongs to a different sept from that of the deceased. The corpse is laid on a cloth, face downwards, in the grave. The eldest son, followed by the other relatives, throws three handfuls of earth into the grave, which is then filled in. On their return home, the mourners undergo purification by bathing before entering their huts. In front of the dead man’s hut, two broken chatties (pots) are placed, whereof one contains ash-water, the other turmeric-water. Into each chatty a leafy twig is thrown. Those who have been present at the funeral stop at the chatties, and, with the twig, sprinkle themselves first with the ash-water, and then with the turmeric-water. Inside the hut a lighted lamp, fed with gingelly oil, is set up, before which those who enter make obeisance before eating.
