Culture
Tigers lifting the rice ‘mudi’ symbolically in front of Mangaladevi.
Watching a human transform into a tiger sounds surreal. But as Sharad ritu sets in and marks the arrival of the goddess, every street in Mangaluru, the land of devi temples, witnesses tigers on two feet roaring and prancing around to celebrate the arrival of the devi in all her glory.
Each year during the annual festival in honour of the devi, the town turns into a den of tigers; tigers who roar, flip, blow fire from their mouths, and offer their ‘nalike’ (dance) and themselves to the mother in all humility, abandoning all sense of identity in reverence.
Traditionally, children sport the appearance of the tiger to mark the completion of a vow in return for receiving devi’s grace in a time of distress. This is based on the local folklore where the mother of a young child who couldn’t walk had vowed to Mangaladevi that if her child were to find strength in his limbs she would have him painted like a tiger and dance at the shrine like her vahana (vehicle).
To watch them stand with their feet apart and their arms stretched on two staves for over 12 hours, as the painting artists first coat them with white and then the yellow and black stripes, painstakingly waiting for each layer to dry, is a lesson in plain devotion that is beyond all physical and mental limitations.
This is a team that has taken folk art connoisseurs even in Germany and France by awe. Udaya Kumar, a retired professor of law and a patron of this folk dance form for the last four decades, facilitated their journey to the two countries in 2000 despite all the hurdles that the system could lay their way.
Kumar, or ‘pili master’ as he is addressed fondly by all the troupes of pilis in the town, is someone whose house all the troupes in the vicinity head to once they have performed at the temple.
"There are people who shower them with money these days at times. Yet if there is one house they head to dance after the temple, it is ours, for here they say they get the respect and honour that an artist deserves," he says in all humility and pride.
Dasara in the city is celebrated both in the traditional devi temples with a feast as well as the Sharada Mahotsava in various temples across the city. The tigers dance at these venues and on tableaux too during the final procession of the Sharada idol.
The tigers who dance through the devi's procession are then honoured after their final mega performance as she is seated in front of the temple just before day break, with a shawl and prasada. Their journey ends along with the devi’s as she is immersed into the temple tank.
In Mangaladevi Temple though, Navaratri is also the devi’s annual ratha yatra and the tigers hence are ritualistically part of the devi’s journey like the jumbos of Mysuru’s Chamundeshwari to the Shammi tree where she sits and witnesses the Ayudha Puja and then heads to the ratha.
Until then, they stay as a troupe, eating only vegetarian food, observing a vratha, staying away home, sleeping only on a mat woven with leaves, so that the paint wouldn’t go off, and adhering to the disciplines required of them.
The stamina required is unfathomable as one is required to dance for hours on end, walking barefoot all around the city (although organisers now try to book buses). The skin cannot breathe as the only garment on the body is the underwear in either tiger print or velvet.
Although this year, thanks to the pandemic, the streets will be devoid of this cultural delight.
As the ‘pili nalike’ which was initially banned, as it results in large gatherings, has been permitted to be conducted only within the temple premises.
"Even during the Emergency, when nothing was permitted, one of the first members of our team had kept the tradition going.”
“Despite the emergency, he put the paint on and danced solo in front of the devi, for this is a vow that cannot be broken. The devi cannot be without her tiger,” he adds, nostalgically.