(Pralad Thapa (2014-Mangshir-4 - 2072-Shrawan-28)
When I pitched "Gai Jatra " reportage to Hinduism Today on the 27th of July, I never envisaged that my house will be one of the many to conduct the Gai Jatra procession this year.
The next day of Janai Purnima (Raksha Bandhan in India) is celebrated in Kathmandu Valley as Gai Jatra, 'the procession of cows'. This year it was on 30th of August. Kathmandu valley locals believe that this is the day when Yama, the God of Death opens the gates of judgement. The soul of anybody who died after the previous year's Gai Jatra, wanders a perilous journey until this day and it is best assisted on its way by holding on to the tail of a holy cow. Also, on this day, the cow will push the gates of Yama's realm open, so that the soul can enter for judgement. If a cow is unavailable then a young boy dressed as a cow is considered a fair substitute, parade through the streets, thereby helping the deceased to find their niche in the afterlife. People, who, for any reason fail to lead procession, distribute food and drink to the cows parading in neighborhood.
With the devastating earthquake that took thousands of
peoples' life alone in Kathmandu Valley, there had to be outrageous
number of participants, parading Kathmandu streets, in guise of cow and
saints in pair, in loving memory of their deceased ones. That is what
happened. Unending lines of families walked from Kathmandu Durbar
Square, through Naradevi chok, Ason and to Thaiti, and some
circumambulated in reversed order locations as well. Families seemed
shortage of boys to walk as cow, for even infants, still feeding on
bottle milk, mounted on father's lap were parading. Some of the families
carried huge posters of their beloved ones. Photos of two pretty
teenager on banners caught my eye, I believe they were sisters, I
couldn't fathom what their family must be going through to lose both
their precious daughters in one disaster.
When a medieval period King, Pratap Malla, after failing in
many ways to console his queen grieving over the loss of their son,
announced a large reward for anybody who could bring a smile to the
queen's face. Droves of people turned out in front of the palace
dressed in outlandish costumes, lampooning all aspects of Nepalese
society on the Gai Jatra
day. The queen laughed when the social injustices and other evils were
highlighted and attacked mercilessly, and thus the jokes, satire,
mockery also became a tradition.
My relatives came to house early in morning for the Gai Jatra
preparation. It was the 18th day of my father's demise. We lost him
within 5 days of brain attack at the Neuro Hospital. He was only 57
years and 8 months old. All the 13 day last rites were performed
according to Hindu Sashtra. Those 13 days were multi-tasking days for me
and my sister, as my brothers and mom remained in whites, isolated in a
room and forbidden even to touch one another. We were mourning,
listening to Garuda purana (a Hindu myth on how a deceased journeys to
the other world), receiving and feeding visitors, shopping for the final
day rites and also crying our heart out, when we had time apart all the
necessities that needed immediate attention.
We had two boys aged 11. My cousin helped one of them deck as a cow and other as a sadhu. This ritual were new for the boys hence much excited. My mom and then everyone put each of them tika and gave money and food, before sending them out to roam city in guise of cow and sadhu in hopes that they help lead my father's soul to baikuntha (heaven). They paraded my neighborhood for a while and rode car to Hanuman Dhoka Durbar Square. My brothers and uncles accompanied them carrying big bags to collect the daaan, food and money alms, boys receive while they parade through the ancient alleys of Malla regime, along with many other cows and sadhus. Poor boys were exhausted, so we made stops whenever they needed restrings. Within an hour and a half, we were done with circumambulation, which marked the end of ceremony.
We had two boys aged 11. My cousin helped one of them deck as a cow and other as a sadhu. This ritual were new for the boys hence much excited. My mom and then everyone put each of them tika and gave money and food, before sending them out to roam city in guise of cow and sadhu in hopes that they help lead my father's soul to baikuntha (heaven). They paraded my neighborhood for a while and rode car to Hanuman Dhoka Durbar Square. My brothers and uncles accompanied them carrying big bags to collect the daaan, food and money alms, boys receive while they parade through the ancient alleys of Malla regime, along with many other cows and sadhus. Poor boys were exhausted, so we made stops whenever they needed restrings. Within an hour and a half, we were done with circumambulation, which marked the end of ceremony.
There were mixed emotions; we were happy that we performed
all the rituals that could help my father reach baikuntha and the same
time very devastated that we now have to continue living with this empty
space in our heart, mind and house.
I survived this historic earthquake only to lose my father within few months.
