That, however, was not the only way the Ram Janmabhoomi movement hit Ayodhya. Between 1950 and 1984, except for legal battles, there had been no on-the-ground action, no movement to demand the Hindu occupation of Babri masjid. Pilgrims to Ayodhya were mostly lay devotees from rural or semi-urban regions, without any political agenda. The means of these devotees were limited, so were their reasons for visiting Ayodhya. With the revival of the Ram Janmabhoomi movement, the town began to witness a spurt in the influx of religious tourists. This spiked further during the 1990s and thereafter. Many temples were converted into dharamshalas and the prices of real-estate possessions of these religious institutions shot up.
‘There was also a change in the nature of religious tourists,’ said Raghuvar Sharan, an Ayodhya-based journalist. ‘Earlier, Ayodhya used to attract traditional devotees who had longstanding relationships with their gurus and their temples, and who had been visiting the town at regular intervals. But once the temple movement started heating up politically, a new variety of tourists began visiting the town in large numbers. This new variety of visitors had no traditional association with Ayodhya or its old temples, nor were they simpletons like their predecessors. They brought money as well as aggression. The sadhus of Ayodhya could not remain unaffected.’
It must indeed have been a turning point for Ayodhya. Many residents I interviewed said that these new tourists were less religious and more communal. They eulogised warrior Ram and his ferocious devotees, providing a psychological boost for those who had money and power. Spirituality started dying fast, so did the tranquillity of Ayodhya and its sadhus.
The bohemian sadhus of the town were converted into, or replaced by, those desirous of owning properties and wielding their power.
III
Ramananda, the medieval philosopher who inspired the foundation of these Vaishnava akharas, could not have imagined this future for his followers. To discover the extent to which spirituality has evaporated from the life of Ayodhya’s naga vairagis, one has to only look at the kind of cases that occupies the local courts here. ‘Almost 90 per cent of the cases in Ayodhya are of this very nature—crime being committed for mahantship is merely a reflection of what has been happening here for quite some time,’ said Ranjit Lal Varma, one of Faizabad’s best-known lawyers. ‘A good number of temples here have become shelters for criminals, who, after committing crime in other parts of the country, hide in Ayodhya in the garb of sadhus. After ten to fifteen years, if they succeed in becoming mahants, with or without the help of their political masters, they stay back. Else they return to their native places and start a new life, assured that the old cases would have gone into cold storage.’
This new class of sadhus, who have taken shelter in Ayodhya and who roam its streets in the garb of vairagis, might have made it easier for the VHP to further its own agenda. Bereft of religious ethos and desirous of the power and wealth available at the temples, these sadhus might well have been willing pawns for the Sangh Parivar.
What has made these machinations—whether of the VHP or otherwise—possible is the very nature of the properties attached to the temples. Legally, all the lands of the temples in Ayodhya are devottar, or endowed, lands owned by the presiding deities of the assorted religious establishments, and mahants are to act only as their managers. This means the temple properties cannot be owned by the mahants, only possessed.
‘Under the Property Dissipation Act of UP, the commissioner of every division is empowered to grant on merit the permission for sale of the endowed land,’ said Varma. ‘But that law is never followed. In reality, the land endowed to the deity is sold and purchased freely on the ground that it would benefit the endowment, that is, the temple.’ This selling and purchasing is carried out by the possessor on behalf of the presiding deity and the commissioner’s permission is hardly ever sought. Though illegal, such transactions occur regularly.
The succession of land in a religious establishment in Ayodhya is guided by the Riwaz-e-Aam, the customary law of Ayodhya’s vairagis, formalised during the first land settlement effected by the colonial masters after the Revolt of 1857 and the accession of Awadh to the British empire. Under the Riwaz-e-Aam, the ascetics of Ayodhya are treated as a special category of families—spiritual families, so to say—in so far as the succession of mahantship and the ownership of the religious establishments are concerned. Thus, like a natural family, a guru in a spiritual family of Ayodhya is always succeeded by a disciple, or a co-disciple, or disciple’s disciple, or nephew-disciple—disciple of a guru-brother or guru-sister—and so on. The only difference here is that, while in a natural family, the property gets divided among the descendants, in a spiritual family, it remains intact and passes on to a sole successor. Like a natural family, there is also a provision for adoption in a spiritual family. In case a mahant wants to nominate an ascetic who is not his disciple as his successor, he will first have to make such a person his sadhaka chela. A sadhaka chela is very much like an adopted son and his lineage would automatically change to that of his guru’s.
If a mahant suddenly dies without appointing a successor, ascetics of other temples, mutts and akharas belonging to the Ramanandi sect in Ayodhya assemble and select a suitable person from among the chelas of the deceased. The ascetics then sign a declaration, called mahazarnama, recognising the identified disciple as the new mahant. The formal announcement of the new mahant’s appointment is made at the bhandara in which a chadar is offered to the incumbent, who, in turn, gives monetary gifts to each of the ascetics attending the ceremony.
‘What is [now] being practised in Ayodhya is something completely opposite,’ said Varma. ‘Nowadays a sadhu becomes the mahant first. He then bribes some ascetics of Ayodhya and makes them sign the mahazarnama, following which he organises a bhandara and gets himself declared as the new mahant.’
This is likely to happen if a mahant dies—or gets killed—without formally nominating his successor. But there is no guarantee that things will go smoothly even if a mahant nominates his successor well in advance. By writing a will, the mahant actually risks becoming a burden and a threat simultaneously. The moment a mahant writes his will, the nominee no longer needs him. So long as the mahant is alive, the nominee lives in constant fear that his guru might change his mind. In Ayodhya, there is a rather disturbing trend of an abnormally high number of mahants dying mere days or weeks after writing their will.
‘Often, the crimes committed against mahants do not come to light because only rarely do sadhus allow post-mortem of the deceased,’ said Varma. The Ramanandi nagas believe that after a sadhu’s death his body must be submerged in the river Sarayu without being mutilated.
What more could a murderer want?
IV
Hanumangarhi, the de facto centre of Ayodhya, plays a pivotal role in this fratricidal war between sadhus. It enjoys a big advantage—in terms of sheer strength—over all the other temples. As the baithak, or main seat of power, of Nirvani akhara, it houses over 600 naga vairagis, who act in gangs and treat the landed property of Ayodhya as their own, emboldened by the brute force they brandish proudly. Until recently, Hanumangarhi had been a renowned centre of wrestling, but now its wrestling pit has lost its charm for the nagas, who consider gun power a more effective source of strength. These nagas are ruthless and are feared throughout Ayodhya.
‘In most of the disputes over mahantship in Ayodhya, one or the other group of Hanumangarhi nagas is invariably involved, either directly or indirectly,’ said Haridayal Mishra, a local sadhu whose astrological skills have made him a close confidant of the Ramanandi vairagis of Ayodhya, particularly those residing in Hanumangarhi. ‘For you, Ayodhya is the land of Ram, for the nagas it is the land of Hanuman. You come here to make offerings, they stay here to grab whatever they can.’
The astrologer is known as a prattler, and yet the nagas of Hanumangarhi seek him out and talk to him all day.
Mishra explained how the nagas of Hanumangarhi deal with mahantships: ‘Thei
r modus operandi is simple. First they capture the body of the deceased, and then his temple.’
The operation begins as soon as the mahant of a temple dies. Since the nagas always keep an eye on every potential mahantship, it does not take them much time to get into action. First, a group—the size of which varies from case to case, ranging from a handul to several dozens—of Hanumangarhi’s nagas reach the temple of the deceased mahant. These nagas then take control of the dead body, prepare it for last rites and carry it to river Sarayu, where one of them, chosen in advance, performs the last rites for the departed soul. All this is done with fanfare to ensure that people know who is performing the last rites and who, therefore, is the real disciple. Immediately after, they prepare and sign the mahazarnama, declaring the chosen naga as the new mahant and successor of the deceased. This is often done by announcing that the new mahant was the sadhaka chela or the guru-brother—having shared a guru—of the deceased. Temples susceptible to such forcible occupations include those in which mahants die without a written will, or if the late mahant was ever associated with a naga vairagi of Hanumangarhi. The local administration often stays clear of such disputes. Even if a case is filed by the real claimant, the occupier uses the mahazarnama as well as the resources of the newly occupied temple to defend his claim to the mahantship. The civil court in Faizabad overflows with such disputes. The real claimants in most cases are helpless. The nagas of Hanumangarhi band together, and are too powerful to be defeated.
Even when there is a clear claim to the title, the would-be mahant is unlikely to succeed against the Hanumangarhi nagas. Take the case of eighty-year-old Ramrup Das, who, after transferring the mahantship of Rang Niwas temple in Ayodhya to his disciple Raghunath Das over a decade ago, had been living quietly in Samastipur, Bihar, looking after the temple’s land there. On 9 February 2013, his disciple Raghunath Das, a heart patient, passed away without writing a will. As was expected, a section of Hanumangarhi’s nagas led by Manmohan Das, who claimed to be the guru-brother of the deceased, took control of the body as well as the temple, which has to its name over 100 bighas (more than sixty acres) of land.
Manmohan Das, a prominent BJP leader in Ayodhya, asserted that the temple belonged to him because Raghunath Das, before shifting to Rang Niwas temple, had been a resident of Hanumangarhi, where he had been a disciple of Manmohan’s guru Satyanarayan Das of Nirvani akhara, making Raghunath and Manmohan Das guru-brothers. And since Raghunath did not hand over his mahantship to anyone, the temple must naturally go to Manmohan. He further claimed that it was because of this very relationship he had with Raghunath that he had paid for the treatment of the latter and, after his death, performed his last rites as well.
Raghunath Das’s guru Ramrup Das, who rushed to Ayodhya as soon as he received news of his disciple’s death, asserted that since he was still alive, mahantship of the Rang Niwas temple should revert to him. But when he reached Ayodhya eight days after his disciple’s death to stake his claim, he was not allowed to enter the temple, which was already occupied by the nagas of Hanumangarhi.
In the midst of all this, Ramrup Das met Arjun Das, a local resident who had been teaching Hindu scriptures in Shrinivas Bodhayan Ramanuj Sanskrit College in Ayodhya for the last five years, and who had of late developed ascetic ambitions and had been looking for a base temple in the town. ‘Ramrup Das asked me for help. I told him that fighting with the nagas of Hanumangarhi would require considerable amount of money and that I would do that provided I get a clear stake in the property,’ explained Arjun Das. Ramrup Das was present at the time of this conversation, and neither of them seemed to have any qualms in confessing to this.
The octogenarian had no option but to agree to the terms. The very next day, Arjun Das became Ramrup Das’s disciple. Later, on the same day, the guru registered the mahantship of Rang Niwas in the name of his new chela. ‘We came to an understanding that once the property is retrieved from the intruding nagas, my guru would remain the virtual mahant until his death. The entire property would revert to me only after his death,’ Arjun added.
Meanwhile, Manmohan Das handed over the temple to Rajkumar Das, a VHP-backed ascetic who had several murder charges against him. It is now a legal battle. Even if Rajkumar Das is defeated in court, it is difficult to say whether Arjun Das would stick to the promise he had made Ramrup Das. Chances are that Rang Niwas will never return to Ramrup Das no matter who wins the case—Rajkumar or Arjun Das.
This is the trajectory of most of these battles. Even Hanumangarhi, the nagas of which have wreaked havoc throughout the town, is not untouched by this ailment. This temple-fortress owns nearly half of Ayodhya and has huge properties in several parts of north India, reason enough for its resident ascetics to keep fighting among themselves. Technically, Hanumangarhi is run by a panchayati system, and its properties are divided into four pattis—Ujjainia, Basantia, Sagaria and Hardwari. In reality, however, these properties have passed into the hands of the nagas who command power. Legally, nagas can’t be the owners of the properties they command, but in reality they reap monetary benefits from the lands of Hanumangarhi.
One such powerful naga was Harishankar Das, who, until his death on 1 March 2017, was perhaps one of the richest sadhus in Hanumangarhi in terms of the extent of temple property he controlled. A few years before his death, one of his disciples, Murari Das, allegedly hatched a conspiracy to kill him.
‘Murari Das was desperate,’ Harishankar Das had told me. ‘He wanted to get rid of me so that he could inherit all my properties without any delay. But look at God’s wish, I am hale and hearty and walk on my own, whereas Murari Das had a paralytic attack and is now bed-ridden.’
Harishankar Das had reason to believe that a conspiracy was afoot. He was attacked on 28 October 2008 in a temple at Barabanki in Uttar Pradesh. Though owned by Hanumangarhi, the temple, which has nearly 150 acres of fertile land attached to it, was in Harishankar Das’s possession. One evening, he was taking a walk in the fields of the temple. Suddenly, a Maruti van drove up to him and five men jumped out of it and started firing indiscriminately. ‘I received six bullets, but I chased the miscreants and fell only after that,’ he claimed. He was rushed to Lucknow for treatment. Harishankar Das, like Ram Asare Das of Chauburji temple, believed that he might not have survived had it not been for divine intervention.
‘Since Murari Das was not part of the group that tried to kill Harishankar Das, he was not named in the FIR,’ said Balram Das, another disciple of Harishankar Das. ‘But later, his name was included in the charge sheet when it was found in course of the investigation that it was all the handiwork of Murari Das. The case is still on but my guru is no longer interested in pursuing it.’
Harishankar Das had come to Ayodhya from Basti in 1958. In those days, Hanumangarhi was known for its wrestlers. ‘I was twelve years old then and wanted to become a wrestler. That was why I came to Ayodhya,’ said Harishankar Das. ‘But at Hanumangarhi, I was told that I could become a wrestler only after becoming a naga. I, therefore, became the disciple of Awadhbihari Das Pathak, who was at that time a wrestler of national repute.’ Under the guidance of his guru, Harishankar Das emerged as one of the most powerful wrestlers Hanumangarhi had ever produced. As his fame grew so did his control over Hanumangarhi’s properties, which he guarded aggressively.
‘The man who tried to get me killed had lived with me since his childhood,’ Harishankar Das told me. ‘I taught him wrestling and he, too, emerged as a very good wrestler, but later, he developed a relationship with a woman and started drifting from nagapana [the naga way, which has a strict celibacy policy]. I used to scold him for such deviations and warned him that if he did not mend his ways, I wouldn’t nominate him as my successor. This might have made him desperate and led him to commit the crime. Otherwise, he’s not a bad person.’
The manner in which the properties are managed and controlled in Hanumangarhi often produces a violent way of life for the nagas, who do not mind shedding blood for even a
small piece of land. In fact, its affairs are now so tangled that, in early 2013, the Lucknow bench of the Allahabad High Court— expressing serious concern over the innumerable litigations pertaining to the claims and counterclaims of the properties of Hanumangarhi—asked the Uttar Pradesh government to appoint a senior bureaucrat as administrator of the temple. The court also directed the government to consider the creation of a trust, similar to that of the Vishwanath temple in Varanasi. The court’s suggestion was vehemently opposed by the nagas of Hanumangarhi as well as the VHP, which accused the Congress government of interfering in the management of Hindu religious institutions. Promptly, the nagas of Hanumangarhi obtained a stay from the Supreme Court on the Allahabad High Court’s order. The case, however, is still on.
V
The other religious establishment that is notorious for its fierce ascetics is Mani Ram Das Ki Chhawani, a temple complex known as Chhoti Chhawani, also in Ayodhya. Over 200 naga vairagis belonging to the Digambar akhara live in this complex. Its mahant, Nritya Gopal Das is, for all practical purposes, the supreme leader of the VHP in Ayodhya. Since 2003, Nritya Gopal Das has also been the head of the Ram Janmabhoomi Nyas, which was founded as an independent trust by the VHP in 1986, and then reorganised in 1993 with the objective of taking charge of the disputed site and building a Ram temple on it. Even as the Babri masjid–Ram Janmabhoomi dispute remains pending in court, the trust has been organising workshops in Karsevakpuram—a major encampment of volunteer activists, the infamous karsevaks—outside Ayodhya, to undertake the construction of the proposed temple.
Ascetic Games Page 4
