Poroja
This article is an excerpt from Government Press, Madras |
Poroja
The Porojas or Parjās are hill cultivators found in the Agency tracts of Ganjam and Vizagapatam. Concerning them, it is noted, in the Madras Census Report, 1871, that “there are held to be seven classes of these Parjās, which differ from each other in points of language, customs, and traditions. The term Parjā is, as Mr. Carmichael has pointed out, merely a corruption of a Sanskrit term signifying a subject, and it is understood as such by the people themselves, who use it in contradistinction to a free hill-man. ‘Formerly,’ says a tradition that runs through the whole tribe, ‘Rājas and Parjās were brothers, but the Rājas took to riding horses (or, as the Barenja Parjās put it, sitting still) and we became carriers of burdens and Parjās.’ It is quite certain, in fact, that the term Parjā is not a tribal denomination, but a class denomination, and it may be fitly rendered by the familiar epithet of ryot (cultivator).
I have laid stress on this, because all native officials, and every one that has written about the country (with the above exception), always talk of the term Parjā as if it signified a caste. There is no doubt, however, that by far the greater number of these Parjās are akin to the Khonds of the Ganjam Māliahs. They are thrifty, hard-working cultivators, undisturbed by the intestine broils which their cousins in the north engage in, and they bear in their breasts an inalienable reverence for their soil, the value of which they are rapidly becoming acquainted with. The Parjā bhūmi (land) is contained almost entirely in the upper level. Parts to the south held under Pāchipenta and Mādugulu (Mādgole) are not Parjā bhūmi, nor, indeed, are some villages to the north in the possession of the Khonds. Their ancient rights to these lands are acknowledged by colonists from among the Aryans, and, when a dispute arises concerning the boundaries of a field possessed by recent arrivals, a Parjā is usually called in to point out the ancient land-marks.”
The name Poroja seems to be derived from the Oriya, Po, son, and Rāja, i.e., sons of Rājas. There is a tradition that, at the time when the Rājas of Jeypore rose into prominence at Nandapur, the country was occupied by a number of tribes, who, in return for the protection promised to them, surrendered their rights to the soil, which they had hitherto occupied absolutely. I am informed that the Porojas, when asked what their caste is, use ryot and Poroja as synonymous, saying we are Porojas; we are ryot people.
The Parjī language is stated by Mr. G. A. Grierson to have “hitherto been considered as identical with Bhatrī. Bhatrī has now become a form of Oriyā. Parjī, on the other hand, is still a dialect of Gōndi.” The Bhatrās are a tribe inhabiting the state of Bastar in the Central Provinces. The Porojas are not a compact caste, but rather a conglomerate, made up of several endogamous sections, and speaking a language, which varies according to locality. These sections, according to Mr. C. Hayavadana Rao, to whom I am indebted for much of the present note, are—
(1) Bārang Jhodia, who eat beef and speak Oriya.
(2) Pengu Poroja, subdivided into those who eat the flesh of the buffalo, and those who do not. They speak a language, which is said to bear a close resemblance to Kondhs.
(3) Khōndi or Kōndi Poroja, who are a section of the Kondhs, eat beef and the flesh of buffaloes, and speak Kōdu or Kondh. (4) Parengi Poroja, who are a section of the Gadabas. They are subdivided into those who eat and do not eat the flesh of buffaloes, and speak a Gadaba dialect. (5) Bonda, Būnda, or Nanga Poroja, who are likewise a section of the Gadabas, call themselves Bonda Gadaba, and speak a dialect of Gadaba.
(6) Tagara Poroja, who are a section of the Kōyas or Kōyis, and speak Kōya, or, in some places, Telugu. (7) Dūr Poroja, also, it is said, known as Didāyi Poroja, who speak Oriya.
Among the Bārang Jhōdias, the gidda (vulture), bāgh (tiger), and nāg (cobra) are regarded as totems. Among the Pengu, Kōndhi and Dūr divisions, the two last are apparently regarded as such, and, in addition to them, the Bonda Porojas have mandi (cow).
In the Bārang Jhodia, Pengu, and Kōndhi divisions, it is customary for a man to marry his paternal aunt’s daughter, but he cannot claim her as a matter of right, for the principle of free love is recognised among them. The dhangada and dhangadi basa system, according to which bachelors and unmarried girls sleep in separate quarters in a village, is in force among the Porojas.
When a marriage is contemplated among the Bārang Jhodias, the parents of the young man carry two pots of liquor and some rice to the parents of the girl, who accept the present, if they are favourable to the match. If it is accepted, the future bridegroom’s party renew the proposal a year later by bringing five kunchams of rice, a new female cloth, seven uddas of liquor, and a sum of money ranging from fifteen to fifty rupees. On the following evening, the bride, accompanied by her relations, goes to the village of the bridegroom. Outside his house two poles have been set up, and joined together at the top by a string, from which a gourd (Cucurbita maxima) is suspended. As soon as the contracting couple come before the house, a tall man cuts the gourd with his tangi (axe) and it falls to the ground.
The pair then enter the house, and the bride is presented with a new cloth by the parents of the bridegroom. Opposite the bridegroom’s house is a square fence, forming an enclosure, from which the bride’s party watch the proceedings. They are joined by the bride and bridegroom, and the parents of the latter distribute rāgi (Eleusine Corocana) liquor and ippa (Bassia) liquor. A dance, in which both males and females take part, is kept up till the small hours, and, on the following day, a feast is held. About midday, the bride is formally handed over to the bridegroom, in the presence of the Janni and Mudili (caste elders). She remains a week at her new home, and then, even though she has reached puberty, returns to her father’s house, where she remains for a year, before finally joining her husband. In another form of marriage among the Bārang Jhodias, the bride is brought to the house of the bridegroom, in front of which a pandal (booth), made of six poles, is set up. The central pole is cut from the nērēdi chettu (Eugenia Jambolana). At the auspicious moment, which is fixed by the Disāri, the maternal uncle of the bridegroom sits with the bridegroom on his lap, and the bride at his feet. Castor-oil is then applied by the bridegroom’s father, first to the bridegroom, and then to the bride. A feast follows, at which fowls and liquor are consumed. On the following day, the newly-married couple bathe, and the ceremonies are at an end.
I am informed by Mr. H. C. Daniel that there is a custom among the Porojas, and other classes in Vizagapatam (e.g., Gadabas, Ghāsis, and Mālis), according to which a man gives his services as a goti for a specified time to another, in return for a small original loan. His master has to keep him supplied with food, and to pay him about two rupees at the Dussera festival, as well as making him a present of a cloth and a pair of sandals. The servant must do whatever he is told, and is practically a slave until the specified time is over. A man may give his son as a goti, instead of himself. It is also fairly common to find a man serving his prospective father-in-law for a specified time, in order to secure his daughter. Men from the plains, usually of the Kōmati caste, who have come to the hills for the purpose of trade, go by the local name of Sundi. They are the chief upholders of the goti system, by which they get labour cheap. Mr. Daniel has never heard of a goti refusing to do his work, the contract being by both sides considered quite inviolable. But a case was recently tried in a Munsiff’s Court, in which a goti absconded from his original master, and took service with another, thereby securing a fresh loan. The original master sued him for the balance of labour due.
The language of the Bonda Porojas, as already indicated, connects them closely with the Gadabas, but any such connection is stoutly denied by them. The names Bonda and Nanga mean naked, and bear reference to the fact that the only clothing of the women is a strip of cloth made from sētukudi or ankudi chettu, or kareng fibre. In a note on the Bhondas of Jaipūr, Mr. J. A. May informs us that the female attire “consists of just a piece of cloth, either made of kerong bark and manufactured by themselves, or purchased from the weavers, about a foot square, and only sufficient to cover a part of one hip. It is attached to their waists by a string, on which it runs, and can be shifted round to any side. A most ludicrous sight has often been presented to me by a stampede among a number of these women, when I have happened to enter a village unexpectedly. On my approach, one and all hurried to their respective dwellings, and, as they ran in all directions, endeavoured to shift this rag round to the part most likely to be exposed to me.” The Bonda women have glass bead and brass ornaments hung round their necks, and covering their bosoms.
The legend, which accounts for the scanty clothing of the Bondas, runs to the effect that, when Sīta, the wife of Rāma, was bathing in a river, she was seen by women of this tribe, who laughed at and mocked her. Thereon, she cursed them, and ordained that, in future, all the women should shave their heads, and wear no clothing except a small covering for decency’s sake. There is a further tradition that, if the Bonda women were to abandon their primitive costume, the whole tribe would be destroyed by tigers. The shaving of the women’s heads is carried out, with a knife lent by the village Komāro (blacksmith), by a member of the tribe. Round the head, the women wear a piece of bamboo tied behind with strings. In one form of marriage, as carried out by the Bondas, a young man, with some of his friends, goes to the sleeping apartment of the maidens, where each of them selects a maid for himself. The young men and maidens then indulge in a singing contest, in which impromptu allusions to physical attributes, and bantering and repartee take place. If a girl decides to accept a young man as her suitor, he takes a burning stick from the night fire, and touches her breast with it. He then withdraws, and sends one of his friends to the girl with a brass bangle, which, after some questioning as to who sent it, she accepts. Some months later, the man’s parents go to the girl’s home, and ask for her hand on behalf of their son. A feast follows, and the girl, with a couple of girls of about her own age, goes with the man’s parents to their home. They send five kunchams of rice to the parents of the girl, and present the two girls with a similar quantity. The three girls then return to their homes. Again several months elapse, and then the man’s parents go to fetch the bride, and a feast and dance take place. The pair are then man and wife.
In another account of the marriage customs of the Nanga Porojas, it is stated that pits are dug in the ground, in which, during the cold season, the children are put at night, to keep them warm. The pit is about nine feet in diameter. In the spring, all the marriageable girls of a settlement are put into one pit, and a young man, who has really selected his bride with the consent of his parents, comes and proposes to her. If she refuses him, he tries one after another till he is accepted. On one occasion, a leopard jumped into the pit, and killed some of the maidens. In a note on Bhonda marriage, Mr. May writes that “a number of youths, candidates for matrimony, start off to a village, where they hope to find a corresponding number of young women, and make known their wishes to the elders, who receive them with all due ceremony. The juice of the salop (sago palm) in a fermented state is in great requisition, as nothing can be done without the exhilarating effects of their favourite beverage.
They then proceed to excavate an underground chamber (if one is not already prepared), having an aperture at the top, admitting of the entrance of one at a time. Into this the young gentlemen, with a corresponding number of young girls, are introduced, when they grope about and make their selection, after which they ascend out of it, each holding the young lady of his choice by the forefinger of one of her hands. Bracelets (the equivalent of the wedding ring) are now put on her arms by the elders, and two of the young men stand as sponsors for each bridegroom. The couples are then led to their respective parents, who approve and give their consent. After another application of salop and sundry greetings, the bridegroom is permitted to take his bride home, where she lives with him for a week, and then, returning to her parents, is not allowed to see her husband for a period of one year, at the expiration of which she is finally made over to him.” In a still further account of marriage among the Bondas, I am informed that a young man and a maid retire to the jungle, and light a fire. Then the maid, taking a burning stick, applies it to the man’s gluteal region. If he cries out Am! Am! Am! he is unworthy of her, and she remains a maid. If he does not, the marriage is at once consummated. The application of the brand is probably light or severe according to the girl’s feelings towards the young man. According to another version, the girl goes off to the jungle with several men, and the scene has been described as being like a figure in the cotillion, as they come up to be switched with the brand. Widow remarriage is permitted among all the divisions of the Porojas, and a younger brother usually marries his elder brother’s widow.
The Jhodia, Pengu, and Kondhi divisions worship Bhūmi Dēvata (the earth goddess), who is also known as Jākar Dēvata, once in three years. Each village offers a cow, goat, pig, and pigeon to her as a sacrifice. She is represented by a stone under a tree outside the village. A casteman acts as pūjāri (priest), and all the villagers, including the Janni and Mūdili, are present at the festival, which winds up with a feast and drink. The Bondas worship Tākurāni in the months of Chaitra and Māgho, and the festival includes the sacrifice of animals. “Their religious ceremonies,” Mr. May writes, “consist in offerings to some nameless deity, or to the memory of deceased relations. At each of the principal villages, the Bhondas congregate once a year in some spot conveniently situated for their orgies, when a chicken, a few eggs, and a pig or goat are offered, after which they retire to their houses, and next day assemble again, when the salop juice is freely imbibed till the intoxicating effects have thoroughly roused their pugnacity. The process of cudgelling one another with the branches of the salop now begins, and they apply them indiscriminately without the smallest regard for each other’s feelings. This, with the attendant drums and shrieks, would give one the impression of a host of maniacs suddenly set at liberty. This amusement is continued till bruises, contusions, and bleeding heads and backs have reduced them to a comparatively sober state, and, I imagine, old scores are paid off, when they return to their several houses.”
The dead are, as a rule, burnt. By some of the Jhodia Porojas, the ashes are subsequently buried in a pit a few feet deep, near the burning-ground, and the grave is marked by a heap of stones. A pole is set up in this heap, and water poured on it for twelve days. On the fourth day, cooked rice and fish are set on the way leading to the spot where the corpse was burned. The celebrants of the death rite then take mango bark, paint it with cow-dung, and sprinkle themselves with it. The ceremony concludes with a bath, feast, and drink. Among the Bonda Porojas, some of the jewelry of the deceased person is burnt with the corpse, and the remainder given to the daughter or daughter-in-law. They observe pollution for three days, during which they do not enter their fields. On the fourth day, they anoint themselves with castor-oil and turmeric, and bathe.
Mr. G. F. Paddison informs me that he once gave medicine to the Porojas during an epidemic of cholera in a village. They all took it eagerly, but, as he was going away, asked whether it would not be quicker cure to put the witch in the next village, who had brought on the cholera, into jail. A Bonda Poroja dance is said to be very humourous. The young men tie a string of bells round their legs, and do the active part of the dance. The women stand in a cluster, with faces to the middle, clap their hands, and scream at intervals, while the men hop and stamp, and whirl round them on their own axes. The following account of a dance by the Jhōdia Poroja girls of the Koraput and Nandapuram country is given by Mr. W. Francis. “Picturesque in the extreme,” he writes, “is a dancing party of these cheery maidens, dressed all exactly alike in clean white cloths with cerise borders or checks, reaching barely half way to the knee; great rings on their fingers; brass bells on their toes; their substantial but shapely arms and legs tattooed from wrist to shoulder, and from ankle to knee; their left forearms hidden under a score of heavy brass bangles; and their feet loaded with chased brass anklets weighing perhaps a dozen pounds.
The orchestra, which consists solely of drums of assorted shapes and sizes, dashes into an overture, and the girls quickly group themselves into a couple of corps de ballet, each under the leadership of a première danseuse, who marks the time with a long baton of peacock’s feathers. Suddenly, the drums drop to a muffled beat, and each group strings out into a long line, headed by the leader with the feathers, each maiden passing her right hand behind the next girl’s back, and grasping the left elbow of the next but one. Thus linked, and in time with the drums (which now break into allegro crescendo), the long chain of girls—dancing in perfect step, following the leader with her swaying baton, marking the time by clinking their anklets (right, left, right, clink; left, clink; right, left, right, clink; and so da capo), chanting the while (quite tunefully) in unison a refrain in a minor key ending on a sustained falling note—weave themselves into sinuous lines, curves, spirals, figures-of-eight, and back into lines again; wind in and out like some brightly-coloured snake; never halting for a moment, now backwards, now forwards, first slowly and decorously, then, as the drums quicken, faster and faster, with more and more abandon, and longer and longer steps, until suddenly some one gets out of step, and the chain snaps amid peals of breathless laughter.”
For the following supplementary note on the Bonda Porojas, I am indebted to Mr. C. A. Henderson. These people live in the western portion of Malkanagiri tāluk, along the edge of the hills, probably penetrating some distance into them. The elder men are not in any way distinguishable from their neighbours. Young unmarried men, however, tie a strip of palmyra leaf round their heads in the same way as the women of their own tribe, or of the Gadabas. The women are very distinctly dressed. They all shave their heads once a month or so, and fasten a little fillet, made of beads or plaited grass, round them. The neck and chest are covered with a mass of ornaments, by which the breasts are almost concealed. These consist, for the most part, of bead necklaces, but they have also one or more very heavy brass necklaces of various designs, some being merely collections of rings on a connecting circlet, some massive hinged devices tied together at the end with string. They wear also small ear-studs of lead. Apart from these ornaments, they are naked to the waist. Round the loins, a small thick cloth is worn.
This is woven from the fibre of the ringa (Oriya sītkodai gotsho). This cloth measures about two feet by eight inches, and is of thick texture like gunny, and variously coloured. Owing to its exiguity, its wearers are compelled, for decency’s sake, to sit on their heels with their knees together, instead of squatting in the ordinary native posture. This little cloth is supported round the waist by a thread, or light chain of tin and beads, but not totally confined thereby. The upper edge of the cloth behind is free from the chain, and bulges out, exposing the upper portion of the buttocks, the thread or chain lying in the small of the back. It is noted by Mr. Sandell that “the cloth at present used is of comparatively recent introduction, and seems to be a slight infringement of the tabu. The original cloth and supporting string were undoubtedly made of jungle fibre, and the modern colouring is brought about with cotton thread. Similarly, the Bonda Poroja necklaces of cheap beads, blue and white, must be modern, and most obviously so the fragments of tin that they work into their chains. The women are said to wear cloths in their houses, but to leave them off when they go outside. It seems that the tabu is directed against appearing in public fully clothed, and not against wearing decent sized cloths, as such. The party I saw were mostly unmarried girls, but one of them had been married for a year. When not posing for the camera, or dancing, she tied a small piece of cloth round her neck, so as to hang over the shoulders. This, as far as I could make out, was not because she was married, but simply because she was more shy than the rest.
“Two houses are kept in the village, for the unmarried girls and young men respectively. Apparently marriages are matters of inclination, the parents having no say in the matter. The young couple having contracted friendship (by word of mouth, and not by deed, as it was explained to me), inform their parents of it. The young man goes to make his demand of the girl’s parents, apparently without at the time making any presents to them, contrary to the custom of the Kondhs and others. Then there seem to be a series of promises on the part of the parents to give the girl. But the witnesses were rather confused on the point. I gather that the sort of final betrothal takes place in Dyali (the month after Dusserah), and the marriage in Magha. At the time of marriage, the girl’s parents are presented with a pair of bulls, a cloth, and a pot of landa (sago-palm toddy). But no return is made for them. The father gives the girl some ornaments.
The married woman, whom I saw, had been given a bracelet by her husband, but it was not a conspicuously valuable one, and in no way indicative of her status.” In connection with marriage, Mr. Sandell adds that “a youth of one village does not marry a maiden of the same village, as they are regarded as brother and sister. The marriage pit is still in use, and may last all through the cold weather. A number of small villages will club together, and have one big pit.” In the case observed by Mr. Sandell, three of the local maidens were shut up in the pit at night, and five stranger youths admitted. The pit may be twelve feet across, and is covered with tatties (mats) and earth, a trap-door being left. “After childbirth, the mother is unclean for some days. The time is, I gather, reckoned by the dropping of the navel-string, and is given as eight to sixteen days. During that period, the woman is not allowed to cook, or even touch her meals.
“These people say that they have no pūja (worship). But at the time of sowing seed, they sacrifice one egg (for the whole village) to Matēra Hundi, the goddess of harvest, who is represented by a branch of the kusi or jāmo (guava) tree planted in the village. The people have no pūjāris, and, in this case, the priest was a Mattia by caste. He plants the branch, and performs the sacrifice. At the time of Nua Khāu (new eating; first fruits) a sacrifice of an animal of some kind is also made to Matēra Hundi. Her aid is, they say, sought against the perils of the jungle, but primarily she is wanted to give them a good crop. The Bonda Porojas are quite ready to tell the old story of Sīta (whom they call Mahā Lakshmi), and her curse upon their women, whereby they shave their heads, and may not wear cloths. It is stated by Mr. May that a Government Agent once insisted on a young woman being properly clothed, and she survived the change only three days. I understand that this case has been somewhat misrepresented. The cloth is believed not to have been forced upon the girl, but offered to, and greatly appreciated by her. Her death shortly afterwards was apparently not the result of violation of the tabu, but accidental, and due, it is believed, to small-pox. The people whom I saw had not heard of this episode, but said that a woman who wore a cloth out of doors would fall sick, not die. But the possibility of any woman of theirs wearing a cloth obviously seemed to them very remote. The Bonda Porojas have a sort of belief in ghosts—not altogether devils apparently, but the spirits of the departed (sayirē). These may appear in dreams, influence life and health, and vaguely exercise a helpful influence over the crops. I did not find out if they were propitiated in any way.
“A dead body is washed, tied to a tatty (mat) hurdle, taken outside the village, and burnt. After eight days (said to be four in the case of rich men), the corpse-bearers, and the family, sit down to a funeral feast, at which drinking is not allowed. A pig, fowl, or goat, according to the circumstances of the family, forms the meal. This is done in some way for the sake of the departed, but how is not quite clear. “The Bonda Porojas live by cultivation, keep cattle, pigs, etc., and eat beef, and even the domestic pig. They pride themselves, as against their Hindu neighbours, in that their women eat with the men, and not of their leavings, and do not leave their village. The women, however, go to shandies (markets).”
