Water and the treatment of
sewage cleaners; how we become participants in a cultural adharma – courtesy
DevDutt Pattanaik
Water plays a very important role in Hindu mythology. Every form of water
seems to be linked to a god, and to a caste. The sea is called Varuna, the
father of Lakshmi. He is the source of all water. The sea also gives salt and
fish, without asking anything in return, which also makes him the symbol of
generosity. From the sea come clouds, from the clouds come rain. The rain, in
turn, is released by Indra. Indra becomes the god of fresh water who brings
rain from the sky. So, the sea god is the father of Lakshmi, goddess of wealth,
while Indra is the husband of Lakshmi, who rides white clouds and hurls
thunderbolts on dark, rain-bearing clouds.
Rivers and ponds are considered feminine. All the rivers are considered
goddesses, associated with apsara or damsels, who flow onto earth (earth is
also visualised as a female, Bhoodevi) before returning to their father’s
house. Thus, the circle of water is seen as a movement from the sea god,
through the rain god, via river goddesses, moving back to the sea. Ponds are
also associated with nymphs and creatures known as yakshas, who take the form
of birds and fishes to protect these water bodies.
Across India, a tirtha yatra is basically from one water body to another,
from one river, to a river confluence, to a bathing ghat, to a pond. Every
temple is attached to a pond, also known as Pokhari, in the eastern part of
India, Kunda, in the southern part of India and Talav, in the northern part of
India. You see this practice even in Sikhism, where the holiest shrine, the
Harmandir Sahib, also known as the Golden Temple, has a pond. Muslims also
value water: one cannot start the reading of Namaz, without washing one’s hands
and feet.
In ancient India, you will see that the water management system is strongly
linked to caste. The Brahmin was supposed to perform rituals to get the rain.
Therefore, temples are built across India, especially in the southern part of
India, where a water pot is kept on top of the temple, almost beseeching the
gods to bring in rain. The water flows down the pyramid-shaped roof and reaches
the base, where you find, again, images of pots, overflowing with plants,
grain, and flowers, indicative of prosperity following the arrival of rain.
The Kshatriya, or the king, who controlled the land, was responsible for
building water bodies, like ponds and step wells, to retain the water which
came from the heavens. Rainwater harvesting, thus, came under the Kshatriya’s
domain. The Vanik, or the Vaishya, utilised this rain. He built canals for the
farms and ponds for cattle and buffaloes. He made sure there was enough water
for human consumption, as well as for plant and animal consumption in the
village. So, he was a water utilizer.
The Shudra, or rather Ati-Shudra, the lowest rung of the service-cadre, was
supposed to clean the village, and the toilets, and the garbage. He formed the
waste management community. But he was never given respect, despite his role in
the cycle of water. He was seen as dirty, unhygienic, polluted. No god was
associated with sewage water. We hope this water will be purified on its own
when mixed with rivers, and sea, but this does not happen as keeping these
atishudras out of the village, the cycle of life is broken, a rupture is willy
nilly created that has destroyed social order.
Shudras were denied access to common village resources, like food from the
farm, water from the village well, clothes and pots from the craftsmen, despite
playing a critical role. He who dealt with efflux of wastewater was seen as
inferior to those associated with inflow of freshwater, though part of a
life-giving cycle.
Even today, those who clean sewage systems are treated like sewage. They are
kept at a distance, not given protective gear, not given cleaning materials to
wash before they go home. They often fall prey to toxic gases. Constant contact
with dirty smell has a negative impact of mental health. We have festivals for
inviting water into our homes, no festivals for dirty water that leaves our
homes. Surely a national day is needed for those who clean our sewers, a day to
ensure we do not continue to strip them of dignity and deprive them of fair
wages.
How many of us have met the men and women who clean our gutters and our cess
pits? Do we know their names? Do we offer them gifts once a year, check if they
regularly receive fair wages, or least make sure they have good protective
gear, or material to clean before they return home? Have we outsourced this to
a callous government. If not we are participants in a cultural adharma.
Also read: http://ris.org.in/pdf/aiib/31May2018/Background_Note.pdf
