Free and fearless tribal festival

Visit Devarapura, a small village in Virajpet taluk of Kodagu district on the fourth Thursday of May and you can witness a unique festival known for the use of expletives. The festival of abuse brings tribal people living in different parts of the district together. A huge number of tribals belonging to Jenu Kuruba, Betta Kuruba, Yerava and other tribes from Kodagu and surrounding districts participate in the celebrations.

The tribal people dress fancily and wear unusual ornaments like jackfruit skin and empty plastic bottles. A strange mix of paint, powder and mud in different shades of black, white and other colours decorate their body.

The traditional festival known as “kunde habba” or “bodu habba” is celebrated with fervour. Legend has it that Lord Ayyappa fell in love with Bhagavati Devi and followed her in the forest. Tribal people who were waiting for his return felt betrayed. In a rage, they started abusing him to get back his affection. The tradition has passed on through generations and continued as an annual event. Tribals gather in the village a day prior to the festival.

On Thursday they go out on the streets shouting and scolding people and village deities using choicest obscenities. While doing so, they visit houses and shops, begging for alms. In the evening they worship the almighty, apologise for their act and offer the money collected to the deity. The unique festival draws a large number of people from nearby places.

“The outpour of emotions reflects the broad outlook of the community. It provides a platform for them to give voice to the mental dilemmas they undergo, fighting the injustice met to them and claiming an opportunity to uphold their rights. It is also indicative of their struggle against odds, both natural and social. It also appears to be a protest of the underprivileged,” opines litterateur and folk scholar Prof Kalegowda Nagavara.

source: http://www.deccanherald.com / Deccan Herald / Home> Supplements> Spectrum / by Nihar Madikeri / DHNS – June 23rd, 2015

I see, to my utter delight, that the tree under which thousands of tribal people have congregated to rain abuses is the frangipani. The delicate white flower rimmed with yellow is called ‘deva-kanagile’ (god’s flower) in Kannada, a name as gorgeous as the flower itself. The tree decked with flowers is a heartening sight, especially after being subjected to a spate of the choicest abuses. Some friends and I are at ‘Kunde Habba’ or ‘Bedu Habba,’ the annual abuse festival of the tribal people of Kodagu in Karnataka. Held on the fourth Thursday of May in Devarapura village near Gonikoppal, 200-odd km from Bengaluru, this is one day when the tribal people let out their grudges and vent their anger against god and fellow men in some of the filthiest words in Kannada and other dialects.

Kodagu or, in travel agent parlance, Coorg is home to some two dozen tribes. Some are honey gatherers-turned-mahouts, a few are into hunting. But the majority works in the coffee estates that dot the district’s verdant landscape. Their days are spent in rigorous physical labour and the evenings in dulled stupor induced by cheap country liquor. For them, the ‘Kunde Habba’ is their one chance, once a year, to abuse and rant away the insults heaped on them by others.

Legend has it that Ayyappa, the god of the tribals, took a group of them into the forest for hunting. Deep in the jungle, he came across the beautiful goddess Bhagavathi, fell in love and eloped with her, leaving the hapless tribal people stranded. Angry at this betrayal, the tribal people reserve this day to abuse their god for his old mistake — for not bestowing the boons they prayed for, for dreams unfulfilled and wishes unheeded. Over time, the festival has grown to become an outlet for their anger against employers — often wealthy coffee planters — and others who have bothered them. The participants take great care in the way they dress for the festival. Handbags readily become hats and an onion sack is turned into a dress. The men, who dominate the festival activities, take great pains to be in drag. Their hardened muscles gleam with sweat and silver paint. They sport bras stuffed with rags and miniskirts balanced precariously around belted waists. Make-up, most often, is gaudy. A little boy in an underwear pins a white flower near his crotch. Save for their size, there is little difference in the way boys, young men and old men look on this day.

Music is a vital part of the celebrations. Fertiliser tins, mineral water bottles filled with stones and large blue storage bins become drums for the day. Upcycling and recycling are clearly the norm, even if they may have never heard of these new-age terms.

Out in Gonikoppal town, during a break for tea that is too strong, almost bitter, we are bombarded by men in dresses, skirts and tight tops, rattling bottles and beating their drums. There appears to be no method, yet a catchy rhythm ensues. The going rate to get them to leave you alone is ₹10. The men barge into shops, collect money and, towards afternoon, congregate at the temple at Devarapura, where a village fair comes up. Plastic toys, knick-knacks and eats line the stalls as tattoo artists settle in their seats. Crude images of hearts, tigers, even Ambedkar are cut into chappal soles and PoP. These are dipped in ink and pressed on to the skin, after which the tattooist goes to work using an incredibly crude tool to poke through the design, rubbing colour and antiseptic turmeric in the end. Tattoos are cheap, starting at ₹50, or ₹10 per letter for a name.

Meanwhile, dancing around the tree continues. Devotees who have promised sacrifice to the gods throw several shocked chickens into the crowd, those who catch them get to keep them. My friends are miffed at not catching any. The drums get louder and louder, reaching a crescendo, until all the drums merge into a dull relentless thud. Women get ‘possessed’ and run in circles (only to sit back and check messages on their phones a few minutes later) and the dance gets raunchier as the alcohol kicks in. After prayers, they will go back to their haadis or settlements for a feast and many more rounds of drink.

Heartily abused, we feel like we could use a drink too. But instead, the oddly catchy tune of the abuses sticks in our head. We make up words to go along and drive further into the district, for elsewhere.

(Deepa Bhasthi is a freelance journalist based in Bengaluru)

source: http://www.thehindubusinessline.com / Business Line> BLINK> Watch / by Deepa Bhashti / June 09th, 2015

Men with traditional attire of black suit and a turban, with gun on the shoulder, women clad in ethnic paraphernaila, dancing to the tunes of musical notes, adding to the charm of colourful procession, which was taken out during taluk Kodava cultural fest organised by Karnataka Kodava Sahitya Academy and Kodava Samaja in Kushalnagar on Monday.

Prior to the inauguration, Kodava Sahitya Academy President Biddatanda S Thammiah offered prayers to the idol of Goddess Cauvery, near the tollgate in the City.

Later, Somvarpet DySP C W Poovaiah inaugurated the procession with a gunshot. The procession including traditional Kodagu bandset, men and women clad in traditional attire, passed through Field Marshall K M Cariappa circle and Kalabhavan road and concluded at Raitha Sahakara Bhavan.

Kodava Sahitya Academy former president Bacharaniyanda P Appanna hoisted the academy flag at Raitha Sahakara Bhavan ground.

An exhibition of household items and agricultural equipment used in older days in Kodagu, caught the attention of onlookers. Hundreds of people took part in various competitions such as dance, music, play and elocution.

source: http://www.deccanherald.com / Deccan Herald / Home> District / Kushalnagar – DHNS / June 16th, 2015