Opinion How Chhath Puja challenges Hindutva and Brahminical dominance

Chhath is an expression of the outsider in an urbanised India, which has essentialised it as a celebration of subordinate members of its society. Moreover, the politicisation of Chhath in urban hubs, which have a considerable number of migrant voters, has validated it as a part of mainstream festivals along with Ganesh Chaturthi and Durga Puja. However, superficial acceptance, both socially and politically, means Chhath Puja remains an abstract notion for people outside Bihar, which is neither accepted nor an effort made to understand what this ritual of celebrating the Sun symbolises.

Nevertheless, the less Chhath becomes part of popular culture, the better it seems: It is one of the rare festivals that remain rooted in the indigenous tradition that prevents it from adulteration and appropriation by social elites. Simultaneously, it challenges the dominant discourse of the Hindutva framework that has cynically homogenised Hindu rituals, beliefs and tradition.

Moreover, as a social scientist and someone who traces his roots to Bihar, I firmly attribute Chhath as a subaltern festival that has strategically essentialised ritualised behaviours and spiritual practices within the context of the Hindu religion. It asserts an alternative narrative and perspective that opposes the Brahminical power structure and standardised religious framework.

How is Chhath structurally different?

Gayatri Spivak, the literary theorist and feminist critic best known for her work in postcolonial studies, has argued in her essay, ‘Can the Subaltern Speak?’ that postcolonial scholars have failed to understand the perspective of the subaltern community. The term subaltern, which Spivak borrowed from Marxist scholar Antonio Gramsci, has been used in the socio-political context to represent the marginalised groups in India (such as women, lower caste and indigenous people) who have been excluded from the dominant discourse. Spivak suggests “strategic essentialism” as a tool to find visibility in socio-political and cultural spaces and to produce alternative knowledge. This means strategically accepting the imposed characteristics under the dominant narrative and maximising the use of imposed identity to build solidarity within the subjugated. This context is important to understanding Chhath.

For instance, most Hindu rituals underscore the indisputable power of a Brahminical priest (Pandit Ji). He is believed to embody a ritualised body by virtue of his knowledge and understanding of religious practices. It’s inconsequential that the priest can rarely, if ever, transfer knowledge to devotees, as most of the rituals are in Sanskrit — despite this, he remains an essential figure in successfully fulfilling rituals in most festivals. Moreover, actions such as special preferences, including separate food and prioritising serving meals to him and his fellow priests, are sufficient to emphasise that they are superior.

However, Chhath defies this act of centralisation of gender, caste and class power. In Chhath, the women of the house manifest the ritualised body of a mythological figure, Chhati Maiya (Goddess of nature and Sun’s sister), for four days. She performs a variety of rituals that have been characterised as an essential part of Hindu religious festivals, such as fasting, aarti, and scripture reading, without ostracising members of the society. A close examination of their ritualised actions and gestures highlights that women performing Chhath adopt these variations strategically to foster a sense of community.

For instance, during the initial two days of the Chhath Puja, Nahay Khaye (Day 1) and Kharna (Day 2) — every member of the society performs specific roles and participates in various ways without expecting recognition or appreciation. Some individuals clean roads, others bring holy water from the Ganges, and some contribute by cleaning vegetables and wheat grains for the preparation of the first and second days’ prasad. It’s noteworthy that this prasad that the Parvati (the woman who observes Chhath) prepares is what everyone eats, including her — the preference and separation of prasad/food does not take place in this festival.

Similar inclusive aspects are evident in the Sandhya (Day 3) and Usha Arghya (Day 4), where devotees gather on the riverbanks to worship the Sun. Devotees not only worship the Sun but also extend their reverence to water bodies. They put in a collective effort at the riverbanks to construct the makeshift platforms and decorate them, while others prepare an aesthetic daliya, arrange offerings such as fruits and thekuas, and carry these bamboo daliyas from home to the riverbank both in the evening and morning along with the Parvatani.

A celebration of the voiceless

Considering the popular mythological legend of Chhath being performed by Karna, a prominent figure from the Mahabharata, there is an argument to be made about how nature has always offered a means to dismantle hegemonies. Despite being an exceptional warrior, Karna, the adopted son of a charioteer, endured humiliation and discrimination due to his lower social status. However, in the epic, his moment by the riverbank and his devotion to the Sun helped him find solace and acceptance in nature — a sense of belonging in a world that mistreated him.

The quest for belonging, a space where the voice of the voiceless is acknowledged, is what defines the essence of Chhath. This extends beyond the narrow confines of essentialist Hindu religious identity, explaining why Bihari migrants — whether religious, atheist or non-Hindu — flock back to Bihar during Chhath. It’s a spiritual connection with nature, a refuge from ostracisation, and a search for a community where voiceless subalterns have a voice.

The writer is a Graduate Teaching Assistant and a PhD research scholar in the Performing Arts Department at DMU University, Leicester