Lady Purohits

[Guest guest]

Revolutionary chants

Vinita Deshmukh

 

Pune boldly welcomes women to take up priesthood and officiate at

Hindu rituals and ceremonies.

 

 

 

 

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Gender no bar: Women chant slokas during the Ganesh festival in

Pune.

 

Even as women are kept out of the sanctum sanctorum of Hindu temples

in most parts of the country, Pune is boldly inviting them in. The

500-odd women priests in the city dominate religious ceremonies

here, especially in people's homes.

 

Known for its active adoption of women's education, widow remarriage

and family planning as far back as the late-1800s, Pune appears to

be knocking down the last male bastion — priesthood.

 

There is still some way to go, though. "In the past five to six

years, women priests have found general acceptance. However, I still

come across cases where the younger members in a family book me for

a religious ceremony, but later call up to cancel because the senior

family members are vehemently opposed to women performing any

rites," says Chitra Chandrachud, 55.

 

A busy priest, she has been in the profession since 1997. She also

feels that women are sometimes reserved as standbys for occasions

when male priests are not available.

 

Suniti Gadgil, in her early 50s, and one of the first women priests

in Pune, agrees: "There is only 10 per cent rejection of women

priests now when it comes to routine ceremonies — thread or marriage

ceremony, for instance.

 

However, rites and rituals connected with death continue to be male

territory. Even before I became a priest, I lit my mother's funeral

pyre. I would like to take on this assignment as a priest too.

However, these rituals take place at odd times, which is why I have

not been able to take them up."

 

`Inauspicious' rituals

 

 

Sandhya Kulkarni, 47, a Sanskrit scholar and a priest, first

conducted death rituals when noted actor Mohan Agashe's mother died

a few years ago. This drew the media's attention to her bold

decision. After that, she conducted several such rites. Over time,

she realised that her friends, even her own family, were ostracising

her.

 

Finally, her family said she must stop conducting these

`inauspicious' rituals for the sake of her children, because no one

would marry people who came from a family that conducted death

rites. "I stopped then, but even now some of our relatives don't

visit my house."

 

Most women priests undertake shraaddha (after-death rituals), but

not the actual death rites. While male priests who conduct the death

rituals also suffer from some amount of stigma, for women the whole

experience is much more unpleasant.

 

V.S. Gurjar, head of the priesthood division of the educational

institution Jnan Prabodhini, Pune, says, "In the Hindu tradition,

women have a right to moksha (liberation of the soul). In

comparison, priesthood is a lowly status — so, why should women not

be accepted? Slowly the inhibition around death rituals will also

disappear. In Uttar Pradesh, which is more conservative than

Maharashtra, the late Gulabbai Tripathi was in charge of a

crematorium for about 70-odd years. She defied society to undertake

death rites."

 

The first step

 

This social revolution in Pune began in the early-1980s, when

Shankarrao Thatte — owner of a premier marriage hall in Pune, the

Udyan Karyalaya — launched the Shankar Seva Samiti to train women

priests.

 

The lackadaisical attitude of male priests towards their duties led

Thatte to think that women ought to be trained as priests. Says

Suniti, who trained at the Samiti, "Mama (as Shankarrao is fondly

referred to) used to be very annoyed with the insincerity of male

priests. He was determined to break this lethargy. So, he first

learnt the shlokas (hymns) of the required rituals and then taught

us in class. He went on to become a master, and began to organise

four-month classes."

 

To ensure that women priests gain acceptability, he took the first

batch of 22 women priests on a tour to the UK and the US to

introduce them to Indian (mostly Maharashtrian) families there. He

felt that this would be a good way to ensure initial acceptance of

women priests.

 

Competition hots up

 

 

Today, male priests face stiff competition from women. Says

Gurjar, "In the past six to seven years, women have come to be more

welcomed than their male counterparts. People tell me we do a better

job!" Manisha Kulkarni, a housewife, agrees: "Thanks to the

competition, men have also fallen in line, and are rarely late for

their appointments."

 

Another reason for the popularity of women priests is the falling

number of male priests. Nigudkar Guruji, a well-known priest,

explains, "Education has provided children of priests with other

opportunities."

 

The result was that in places like Mumbai and Pune, it became

difficult to find a priest to officiate ceremonies. In fact, a

variety of audiocassettes of recorded pujas were suddenly selling

like hot cakes. Women priests are now filling that need.

 

Both the Shankar Seva Samiti and the Jnana Prabodhini have been

instrumental in revolutionising the profession of priesthood. While

the Samiti no longer trains women priests (it never did train male

priests), several senior students have begun private coaching

classes.

 

Jnana Prabodhini offers an eight-month course for a nominal fee of

Rs 100 a month. It also has a cell of 30 priests, of which 20 are

women, who can be engaged for various ceremonies at a nominal fee.

 

Whatever the beginning — whether necessity or an intent to reform

the profession — priesthood is better off with its women members.

 

Gulabbai Tripathi

 

 

Gulabbai Tripathi was only 11 when she conducted her first funeral

and death rites at the death of her father. She died in 2005, at the

ripe old age of 86.

 

For 70-odd years, she was in charge of a crematorium in Allahabad,

which she made her home. Marathi writer Mangala Athlekar even penned

a book based on her life titled `Gargi'.

 

Says Athlekar, "When I got to know her, I realised that we — women

in cities — only talk about women's liberation in our ivory towers.

Gulabbai may not have known the jargon of women's rights, but she

put this `liberation' into action.

 

"Just as, in Vedic times, Gargi boldly questioned the intellect of

Yajnavalkya in a Brahmin gathering, Gulabbai questioned the Brahmin

gurus of our era.

 

"Why can a woman not undertake last rites, she asked. She built her

own ghat on the banks of the Ganga and served society for 70 years."

 

Reformist Sanskrit scholars

 

In the mid-1930s, reformist Sanskrit scholars in Pune — like P.V.

Kane, Tarkatirth Lasman Shastri Joshi, Kewalanand Saraswati and

Tarkasankhya Teerth Raghunat Shastri Kogze — felt the need to

demystify rituals for the common people. They published easy-to-

follow booklets.

 

Then, in the 1970s, noted educationist and founder of Jnana

Prabodhini, V.V. Pendse, founded the Sanskrit Sanshodhika to

popularise vedic rituals and take the reformist movement forward. He

published more booklets.

 

In all, there are 19 booklets now, and these are what priests in

Maharashtra rely on today for conducting religious rites.

 

 

Women's Feature Service

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