The Tamil Nadu state government’s announcement that women, and non-Brahmins, can apply to be temple priests signals the beginning of the end of another male stronghold.
When the pujari at the Durga temple in Nalluthevanpatti village, Madurai, fell ill and could no longer perform the ritual pujas, his only child, a daughter, Pinniyakkal stepped up. Two years later when he died in 2006, she staked her claim to be the full-time pujari, a hereditary position at that temple.
The local populace was appalled. Even though the temple deity was female, tradition dictated the pujari could only be male. So, Pinniyakkal went to court. Agreeing with her claim, Justice K. Chandru of the Madras High Court ruled: “The altars of the God must be free from gender bias.”
Some 15 years later, the DMK’s state minister of temple administration announced earlier this week that women — and non-Brahmins — can apply for positions as temple priests, provided they’ve undergone training in “agama sastra”, the manual that lays down rituals of prayer and worship. “Women must be given opportunities to participate in every sphere of life, whether spiritual or material,” Justice Chandru who retired in 2013 said to me on the phone.
When the pujari (priest) at the Durga temple in Madurai fell ill and could no longer perform the ritual pujas, his only child, a daughter, Pinniyakkal, stepped up. Two years later, when he died in 2006, she staked her claim to be the full-time pujari, a hereditary position at that temple
Representational Image. (HT archive)
When the pujari (priest) at the Durga temple in Nalluthevanpatti village, Madurai, fell ill and could no longer perform the ritual pujas, his only child, a daughter, Pinniyakkal, stepped up. Two years later, when he died in 2006, she staked her claim to be the full-time pujari, a hereditary position at that temple.
The local populace was appalled. Even though the temple deity was female, tradition dictated the pujari could only be male. So, Pinniyakkal went to court. Agreeing with her claim, Justice K Chandru of the Madras high court ruled: “The altars of the God must be free from gender bias.”
Some 15 years later, the Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (DMK)’s state minister of temple administration announced earlier this week that women — and non-Brahmins — can apply for positions as temple priests, provided they have undergone training in “agama sastra”, the manual that lays down rituals of prayer and worship. “Women must be given opportunities to participate in every sphere of life, whether spiritual or material,” Justice Chandru, who retired in 2013, said to me on the phone.
The idea of women and non-Brahmin priests is not new. In 2006, the DMK set up training centres for non-Brahmins. In Maharashtra, training centres for women were first established in Pune and Ahmednagar. In Mumbai, Anjali Kale, now 82, founded the Rudrani Purohita Mandal in 1990 and has trained 250 women priests, including her daughter Kshama Mangesh Joglekar, who has a day job at the Life Insurance Corporation. “I sought her out because I believe that if women don’t support women then who will?” said Dr Manisha Nadkarni, a Mumbai-based gynaecologist who has been using Joglekar’s services for over a decade.
Scholars say Hinduism does not ban women from becoming priests. But over time, patriarchal notions have seeped into some practices —prohibitions on women during “impure” menstruation, for instance. These are being challenged by younger feminists and the Sabarimala judgment that lifted the ban on women of menstruating age was hailed as a landmark in feminist jurisprudence.
Women priests are adapting to changing times but are treading with caution. When couples ask Mumbai-based Anagha Mule, 70, to officiate at their weddings, they often ask her to do away with rituals they find abhorrent: The bridegroom’s feet being washed by the bride’s mother, or the kanyadaan. She is happy to accommodate those requests. “I understand that a woman is not a thing to be given away,” she said. But, if she’s asked to do puja at a home that already has a male family priest, she won’t go as she doesn’t want to take away another person’s livelihood, she added.
While a growing number of women are finding acceptance as private priests who conduct rituals, they are almost never seen in the larger, public temples. Now, the Tamil Nadu government has acknowledged their right to do so. It’s not as if women are waiting to storm the breach, but the move certainly signals the beginning of the end of another male stronghold.
The National Commission for Protection of Child Rights says 3,621 children have been orphaned since the start of the pandemic. With over 360,000 deaths so far, this is likely an underestimation
Representational image. (AP)
It started with a WhatsApp message. “A 2 months old baby boy and a 2 yrs old baby girl [sic] need a home because their parents have passed away due to Covid,” read the message. The kids were up for adoption. There was a phone number and a request to “kindly share it as much as possible”.
Representational image. (AP)
Covid-19’s catastrophic second wave was raging. Nobody knew how many were dying. Suddenly, bleeding heart pleas were popping up everywhere. A distressing reality now had a convenient hashtag: #CovidOrphans. On May 4, Smriti Irani, minister for women and child development (WCD) had to intercede and remind people that it is “illegal to give or take orphan children of anyone else in adoption.”
The National Commission for Protection of Child Rights says 3,621 children have been orphaned since the start of the pandemic. With over 360,000 deaths so far, this is likely an underestimation. Nevertheless, the government says it will “look after” these orphans, even as questions remain about how such children will be identified given that so many Covid deaths have not been officially documented. Still, Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s announcement of a ₹10 lakh fund, free education and other benefits including health insurance is welcome. But it is not enough.
It is not enough because it does not articulate the many other serious vulnerabilities that children face because of the pandemic. When, for instance, parents lose their livelihoods, there is less food for the family and children go hungry. An environment of economic stress could lead to violence and abuse in the home. With schools shut, children are cut off from their peers and learning. There’s a surge in dropouts, child labour and early marriage. A second wave has only compounded these problems and there are very real fears that decades of progress in gender and child rights are being rolled back.
“These are hard problems that require attention beyond a hashtag,” says Enakshi Ganguly of child’s rights organisation, Haq. Adds Nicole Rangel, co-founder of Leher that works in Madhubani district, Bihar: “There are so many families where both parents are alive but the children are equally vulnerable.”
Hashtag CovidOrphans has had one unintended consequence: new focus on child rights that has been largely absent from any mainstream discussion. This past week, the National Human Rights Commission issued a detailed advisory asking for stakeholders to be better prepared especially with fears of a third wave around the corner.
Touching on health, education, child care institutions, and orphaned children, the advisory calls upon the state administration to “take steps for supporting families economically that have lost either of the parents”. It has, in addition, asked for the universalisation of digital facilities for online access to education and the dissemination of the existing counselling service available at 1 800-121-2830 to provide psychological support for affected children.
The loss of even one parent is devastating. But in a pandemic this brutal, death is sometimes not the only loss.
