Telangana

Beyond the Bonalu spectacle: A peek into the lives of Telangana’s Shivashaktis

As spectators, while witnessing the procession of Shivashaktis, we glance at them and swiftly shift our attention. Our engagement with their lives remains confined within this fleeting span.

Written by : Jagadish Babu

At the heart of Telangana's Bonalu festival, which concluded recently, lies Bonam, an offering prepared by devotees at their homes, to express gratitude to the goddess for her protection. Bonam is a derivative of the Sanskrit term Bhojanam, a vegetarian meal. It is served in a brass or earthen pot with rice cooked with milk, curd, sweet pancakes called Nunepolelu, and Pachipulus, a cold tamarind soup made with jaggery, cumin seeds, curry leaves, turmeric, salt, and pepper, and decorated with neem leaves, turmeric and saffron. Dressed in traditional attire, devotees humbly walk barefoot to the temple, carrying Bonam on their heads, accompanied by the rhythmic beat of drums leading the procession.

In Hyderabad, the capital of Telangana, Bonalu, a festival of vibrant colours, is celebrated with enthusiasm and devotion. The festivities culminated on June 22, with the offering of the first Bonam to Golkonda Sri Jagadamba temple, marking the beginning of a month-long celebration at various Shakti temples across the city in the Ashada month of Telugu calendar. The state government had allocated a sum of Rs15 crore to ensure the arrangements for the festival are impeccable. The police department was alerted to address traffic management, and communal tensions, and prevent any anti-civilian activities. Devotees from not only the state but also from other states and countries gathered in Hyderabad to witness the cultural splendour of Bonalu and pay their respects to the mother goddess. 

One of the main highlights of the festival is the presence of awe-inspiring Shivashaktis and Pothurajus, who bring majestic energy to the festivities. In particular, the grace and simplicity with which Shivashaktis carry Bonam on their heads, along with various symbolic weapons in their hands, create an illusion as if the goddess herself is walking among us. Yet, it piques the curiosity of the audience about the lives of these Shivashaktis beyond the realm of Bonalu. During the celebration, audiences are treated to captivating performances by a variety of Shivashaktis and Joginis. However, the festivity leaves people pondering a compelling question: What does it truly mean to be a Shivashakti?


Bonalu festival procession

Shivashakti: The crucial link to Shaivite spirituality

As implied by its name, Shivashakti refers to 'an individual endowed with the power of Shiva or Shakti,' the two being a union of inseparable cosmic forces. This possession of divine spirit and the actions carried out by these individuals are collectively known as Sigam. The possession of a divine spirit is an essential aspect of Shaivite culture, as it is through Shivashaktis that the spiritual realm of humans connects with the supreme powers of Shiva and Shakti. Within Telangana, there exist prominent cultural manifestations of Shivashaktis, including Jogini, Matangi, Shivashakti or Shivasatti, and Pothuraju. 

Each of these Shivashaktis hold distinct roles and significance across different regions and cultures. For instance, Joginis and Matangis from Madiga, Erpula, Erukali, Golla, and Goundla communities are exclusively women who are ‘assigned’ these roles, rather than having a choice in the matter. They dutifully perform daily rituals at unorthodox Shakti temples in villages, under the guidance of Brahmin priests. On the other hand, in orthodox Shakti or Shiva temples, only Brahmin priests are allowed to conduct rituals. 

Unlike in the case of Matangis or Joginis, the role of Shivashaktis can be assumed by both men and women who can lead possessed processions to the Shaivite temples without the intervention of Brahmin priests. Some of them are believed to hold powers to heal people afflicted by evil possessions, and drishti (evil eye) and also prescribe rituals for fulfilling their wishes. 

Pothurajus, on the other hand, are exclusively men and they lead certain rituals during marriage ceremonies, temple fairs, and cremation rites. Notably, these roles are traditionally fulfilled by people from backward castes and scheduled castes such as Madiga, Erpula, Kuruma, while the upper castes such as Reddy, Kamma, Kapu, and Brahmins, who are considered closer to the gods, are not seen in these roles. The intricacies of these traditions extend beyond mere appearances, with factors such as caste, gender, class, devotion, purity, obedience to conventions, and social status playing significant roles in shaping the lives of Shivashaktis.


Bonalu festival procession

The Jogini system: Sexual exploitation masked by divine duties and devotion

The Jogini system, similar to the Devadasi system, involves unmarried and young women who serve and marry deities in Shakti temples in villages. This cultural practice can be traced back to the Chola and Pandya dynasties, when the kings established these roles to appoint female servants dedicated to fulfilling the various needs of the deities. These duties encompass tasks such as cleaning the temple and sanctum, reciting traditional hymns on specific occasions, and presenting traditional dances as offerings to the deities. Although these traditions were created for a sacred purpose, instances of Devadasis and Joginis subjected to sexual exploitation were prevalent. Over time, the negative aspects, such as prostitution, were eliminated, and the role of Devadasis in temples became revered. These women dedicated their lives to the deities by singing classical music and performing traditional dance forms like Kuchipudi and Bharatanatyam during temple fairs and festivals (Hussain, 2022). Similarly, Joginis were engaged in Bonalu processions, temple fairs, and other auspicious events to convey Shakti's message to devotees. They were also believed to possess healing abilities, treating illnesses like chickenpox, which people thought were caused by angering the Shakti. Nevertheless, both of these systems eventually reverted back to their inherent cruel practices towards Joginis, but in a more severe manner, as if it is a cycle of change. They experienced sexual exploitation from local Zamindars, landlords, priests, and other influential figures. Consequently, young Dalit, Goundla, and Kuruma females were coerced by village representatives to assume the role of Jogini. These Joginis remained unmarried throughout their lives and bore children with upper-caste men of the village, without a known father. They lived pitiable lives, lacked the power or freedom to enjoy life, and were at the mercy of village elders.


Bonalu festival procession

Adaptations in the Jogini system: Contemporary perspectives

With the implementation of the Andhra Pradesh Devadasis (Prohibition of Dedication) Act, 1988, both the Devadasi and Jogini cultures experienced a systematic collapse, transforming their residential settlements into centres of exploitation such as prostitution. The transition from being a Jogini or a Devadasi to a prostitute was organic as an element of such exploitation was always ingrained in the tradition. Nevertheless, a few individuals, like Jogini Shyamala from the Goundla community and Matangi Swarnalatha from the Erpula community, continued to uphold the essence of these traditions, untouched by sexual exploitation. Emerging from the Jogini system, Shyamala and Swarnalatha stand as prominent figures in the Bonalu culture of Telangana.

Throughout her life, Shyamala has remained a Jogini, assuming an influential leadership role in the Telangana Shivashaktula Sankshema Sangham (Telangana Shivashaktis Welfare Union). Alongside her devotion to the Jogini tradition, Shyamala has appeared in films, television shows, and interviews on notable Telugu news channels. A devotee and admirer of Krishna, Shyamala chose not to marry and dedicated her life to a personal form of deity established in her own home, rather than a temple.

In contrast, Swarnalatha fulfils the role of a Matangi, the seventh-generation oracle of Mahakali, performing Bhavishyavani (foretelling the future) at the Secunderabad temple for the past twenty years. Although she got married and had children, Swarnalatha devoted her life to serving the goddess Mahankali. Despite generations of tradition, the government's recognition of their contributions remains limited. The government provides Swarnalatha with Rs 3,000, a saree, and flowers for her Bhavishyavani, performed only once a year, and she does not receive any pension like other artists. Similarly, Jogini Shyamala does not receive sufficient financial support from the government for her performances, leading her to accept requests from devotees to conduct Bonam and Sigam rituals (the practice of divine possession) in exchange for substantial payments.

Shyamala and Swarnalatha, who hail from the Goundla and Erpula communities respectively, face distinct challenges based on factors such as exposure, caste, and accessibility, which significantly influence the lives of these Shivashaktis within the broader context of Telangana. Swarnalatha, residing in rural north Telangana, earns limited income from tailoring, while Shyamala, living in Hyderabad, travels to various districts to perform rituals and lead processions, earning her livelihood through Sigam ceremonies.

When Shivashaktis like Rakesh Bonam, a man from backward caste, visit a devotee’s home to perform a specific ritual or Bonalu procession, they often demand varying amounts of money, ranging from Rs 50,000 to Rs one lakh, depending on the devotee's financial situation. Jogini Shyamala makes money in the same way by visiting devotee’s homes on request. Matangi Swarnalatha, however, cannot make money by following the same way as her tradition is limited to presenting Bhavishyavani on special occasions. Many devotees visit Shivashaktis at their personal temples to seek blessings and offer generous contributions. As Joginis, Shivashaktis, transgender individuals, and others partake in these rituals, they are able to earn a livelihood. However, it's important to note that this is not the case for all Shivashaktis. These examples portray the intricate complexity of the livelihoods and social status of Joginis and Shivashaktis in Telangana, where their sustenance is intimately tied to their involvement in Sigam. The influence of exposure, caste, accessibility, and other political factors underscores the dynamics that shape the lives of these Shivashaktis.

Who can become a Jogini?

The contemporary Jogini practice has undergone a significant transformation, breaking free from suppression and humiliation. It is no longer limited to only women. Even those from transgender community, who have undergone sex reassignment surgery and not, now lay claim to the Jogini status. As their numbers grew and they gained respect and recognition in society through devotion, Sigam performances, and ritual practices, men who are not from the trangender community or Shivashaktis by nature began to pretend as if they were, and claimed the Jogini ranks. With the system now practised widely, there is no formal authority to qualify someone as a Jogini, as it revolves around immeasurable devotion and commitment. Consequently, anyone of any gender can become a Jogini by expressing their dedication to serving a particular deity.

Despite such misuse of the religious system for monetary gain by men, the Jogini culture is gradually regaining its honour in a positive manner. The journey of the Jogini culture has come full circle, from its establishment for devotional service, to corruption and forced dedication by sexual predators, to transgenders and other women now proudly embracing the title and leading respectable lives. 

However, the overall outcome is not entirely a cause for celebration, as violence and denial of their identities have resurfaced. For example, Jogini Deepika, a transwoman, was raped and murdered by her lover. Deepika had been living a respected life as a Jogini, travelling across the state to perform Bonam rituals and lead processions until she fell in love. Subsequently, she was subjected to torture, humiliation, and blackmail by her lover. Finally, on her way back from a Bonalu ritual in Medak, she was raped and killed. To make matters worse, in an interview, Deepika's brother referred to her as his 'brother' and used male pronouns while recounting the circumstances of her death, despite the interviewer consistently referring to her as 'Deepika' and using female pronouns. Her brother outright denied accepting her gender identity and refused to acknowledge the nature of the relationship between the perpetrator and the victim as a love affair. This exemplifies the double discrimination performed by those close to her. Deepika was raped and killed despite her Jogini status, a religious position, and her gender identity was denied. Hence, despite living under the religious and devotional spotlight, these Joginis still endure challenges in leading lives of respect within a heteronormative society.

Gender conflict: The marriage dilemma of male Shivashaktis

The Bonalu culture is witnessing the prominent presence of transwomen, which has given rise to unspoken dilemmas among both female and male Shivashaktis. While Joginis like Shyamala welcome the inclusion of transwomen in the Bonalu culture and encourage all Shivashaktis to share the ritual offers and opportunities, there exists an underlying tension among female Joginis and Shivashaktis who feel overshadowed by the grace and energy displayed by transwomen in leading challenging processions and performing impressive feats.

On the other hand, male Shivashaktis face a different set of challenges. In an interview with the V6 Life Youtube Channel, Rakesh Bonam addressed the question of whether Shivashaktis can get married. He clarified that they can, but the current situation has become complicated due to the increasing presence of transwomen in the Bonalu arena. Typically, male Shivashaktis do get married, but many find it difficult to do so because they have devoted their lives to rituals and deities, leaving little space to share with their future wives. Moreover, their cultural practices often require them to wear bangles, sarees, wigs, and makeup for performances and rituals. Although not all male Shivashaktis are required to wear sarees, there is a stigma associated with expressing feminine characteristics, and society tends to reject men who prioritise home rituals and lead a modest lifestyle. Due to the resemblance the attire of transwomen and their performances have with male Shivashaktis during Bonalu processions, people often confuse the two, diminishing the perception of male Shivashaktis as men. Rakesh Bonam mentions his fortune in being married to his paternal uncle's daughter, who understands him well, which allowed him to have a family and children. While he does not explicitly connect this to the presence of transwomen in Bonalu culture, it is evident that he implies that transwomen may be a factor contributing to the difficulty male Shivashaktis face in finding marriage partners. He also assumes that transwomen do not get married and highlights their differences from individuals like himself. 

This wide variety of Shivashaktis with a range of life stories and experiences, carry Bonam during the Bonalu procession, put on a happy smile as they approach the temple, and dance joyously for their goddess, while completely forgetting about what resumes in their real lives after the procession. Every form of Shivashaktis is going through something despite the caste and gender differences.

Sigam as a performative art

Sigam is a unique blend of divine possession and performance, making it challenging to separate these two aspects and attribute them solely to one factor. While the act of being possessed was previously taken for granted without much scrutiny, it has become essential to address and dispel certain misconceptions surrounding Sigam.

In an interview with Jogini Nishakranthi, a transgender woman, on the SumanTV Gold Youtube Channel, she sheds light on the initiation and culmination of the procession. According to her, she becomes possessed while carrying the Bonam on her head for the first time, recites a hymn imparted by her Guru, and allows the resonating beats of the drums to facilitate it. During this brief moment, she experiences enchantment before resuming her role as Nishakranthi, leading the procession with full awareness and performing throughout. Upon reaching the temple, the drums resound again, resulting in another temporary possession that subsequently fades away. Hence, the procession comprises a combination of possession and performance. This is why we witness Shivashaktis guiding devotees, making requests, and expressing emotions of comfort or discomfort during the procession. However, as spectators, some of us tend to dismiss the notion of being possessed altogether and attribute everything to acting. The procession itself is a festive celebration of the goddess, and within the contemporary context, it has transformed into a grand march towards the temple, laden with ritualistic folk elements. The towering five-tiered Bonam, or Aidu Kundala Bonam, is one of the magnificent symbols carried by many Shivashaktis to make a grand impression. In the past, these Bonams were crafted as a fulfilment of a special vow made to the goddess. A decade ago, Talwar and Shoolam, symbolic weapons, were exclusively wielded by Pothurajus. However, in today's processions, every Shivashakti carries a range of impressive instruments, showcasing their skill and delighting the audience. Some Shivashaktis have unique poses and stunts, which are later emulated by other members of the community. As these performances are frequently shared on platforms like YouTube, Shivashaktis from different parts of the state draw inspiration from one another, attempting to recreate these acts. Despite internal differences and occasional tensions, the Shivashakti community serves as a source of inspiration and spreads joy among the audience.

Cultivating respect for the spirit embodied by Shivshaktis

As spectators, we witness the graceful procession of Shivashaktis, one after the other, moving towards the temple. Often, we glance briefly at them and swiftly shift our attention to the next captivating sight. Our engagement with their lives remains confined within this fleeting span. We become too hasty in judging transwomen Joginis based on their appearance, makeup, or attire, forgetting to delve deeper into their essence. Similarly, when we encounter men dressed as women during the Bonam procession, we are quick to pass judgement. In our rush, we overlook the struggles these individuals endure while holding steadfast to their unique identities and connections with the world. It's unnecessary for us to pry into their personal lives to appreciate the authenticity of their devotion and how they express their sense of duty to the world. So, the next time we observe a Shivashakti passing by, let's cultivate a genuine respect for who they are and the spirit they embody.

Jagadish Babu is a Postdoctoral Research Assistant at the Department of History, Goldsmiths, University of London. He completed his Master’s in Comparative Literature and India Studies from The English and Foreign Languages University, Hyderabad.

Sign up for a Weekly Digest from Dhanya Rajendran

* indicates required

How Modi govt is redirecting investments from other states to Gujarat

Inside Bengaluru’s ‘Kannadiga vs Outsider’ divide

‘Adani hosted, Amit Shah attended’: Sharad Pawar confirms 2019 meeting to discuss alliance

Shivendra Singh interview: How ‘Celluloid Man’ PK Nair led him to work on film heritage

The story behind The Hindu journalist Mahesh Langa’s arrest