Kojagari Pournima: A night of light, milk, and quiet reflection

Festivals evolve over time, reflecting cultural changes. Kojagari Pournima, celebrated for its rituals, became a platform for social and literary engagement.

Festivals play significant roles in society by providing focal points for the sharing of cultures and religious beliefs, and for exchange between social groupings. They share strong relationships with moral codes, long-held customs, and culturally shared myths. But they evolve and change over time, as do their relative significance, acceptance, and legitimacy in cultural, social, and political terms. The meanings communicated through festivity are subject to reconfiguration and reinterpretation as the form and content of a festival moulds itself to the dynamics of social and cultural change and the process of modernisation.

One occasion where he invited his friends and followers to discuss poetry and politics was “Kojagari Pournima”, which came about five days after Dasara, in the month of Ashwin.   (HT)

Vishnushastri Chiplunkar, the writer, educationist, and the self-proclaimed “Shivaji of Marathi language”, was a staunch nationalist who sought to revive and preserve Brahminical customs and traditions. Immensely popular for his essays and educational endeavours, he had a huge following of young, educated Brahmin men who tried to emulate his writing style and thoughts. Chiplunkar actively sought to meet and engage with them whenever possible to further his cause.

One occasion where he invited his friends and followers to discuss poetry and politics was “Kojagari Pournima”, which came about five days after Dasara, in the month of Ashwin.

Also known as Sharad Pournima or Kaumudi Pournima, it was celebrated with great enthusiasm, especially in Odisha, Bengal, Gujarat, and Maharashtra. It was believed that if a raindrop fell into the mouth of an oyster on this night under the constellation of Swati, it would transform into a pearl. Hence, in Gujarat, it was also called “Manekthari”, or pearl forming. Kojagari was also the harvest festival and was called “Navanna” (new food). From this day, the new grain of the recent harvest might be eaten.

In the Kojagari ritual, devotees performed a special form of worship to the Goddess Lakshmi, along with Indra and his elephant Airavata and asked for her blessings. Families wore clean clothes and listened to the ritual’s story. The festivities included playing dice, consuming certain white-coloured food or drink, such as coconut milk or “kheer”, and staying awake the entire night.

Coconut milk was the symbol of fertility. Drinking hot milk also helped one stay awake. Lakshmi was the bringer of good fortune, and arbitrary in her bestowal of favours. She was said to roam on this night, asking, “Ko jagarati?” which meant, “Who is awake?” in Sanskrit, and those who remained awake were more likely to win her blessings. Some families placed a light outside of their houses on this night as an invitation to Lakshmi to pause and bless the inhabitants.

In Brahmin households, an idol of Lakshmi was placed on a heap of rice, with a lit ghee lamp. Women fasted, breaking it after moonrise with parched rice and milk. Affluent families invited Brahmins for a traditional meal of white dishes.

In Pathare Prabhu households, a supper was eaten of rice cooked in milk and sugar, and gram-flour cakes mixed with plantains, onions, brinjals, and potatoes fried in butter on Kojagari. After supper, men and women played chess or other board games all night.

Caste-based organisations used the opportunity to host celebrations where members assembled at night and enjoyed white-coloured snacks and milk with lectures and music.

Every year, the Chandraseniya Kayastha Prabhu Samaj Sevak Mandal organised a gathering in the living room of a wealthy gentleman in the community. Hot, spiced milk was served. A lecture, usually about some cultural aspect of the community, was followed by a musical recital.

The Bhavsar Kshatriya Vadavivadottejak Mandal celebrated Kojagari in the 1930s at the residence of Garje Brothers on Laxmi Road. The hall was decorated with white curtains and white roses. The program started at about ten o’clock at night. Milk was served with semolina laddoos.

The Kojagari hosted by the Shivaji Maratha School Alumni Association was known for its array of snacks, including “kanda-bhaji” (onion fritters) and tea.

Cultural and literary societies represented a new type of associational life in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries in Maharashtra. Owing to access to higher education, migration to the cities, and urban planning, it was believed that the town quarters had very slowly started losing their significance as a social unit by the end of the nineteenth century. These quarters were largely divided on the basis of religion and caste.

Festivals like the Ganeshotsav and Navaratri had been a significant form of temporary associational life that had a mixture of religious and worldly aspects. The educated class, seeking refinement and sophistication, sought to use Kojagari to create a social structure that was devoid of religious aspects and was largely secular. It was a way to assert modernity by de-traditionalizing the festival.

Kaka Kalelkar wrote in the Gujarati article “Chandni Raat”, translated by Swati Joshi for the journal “Indian Literature” (Vol 29, No 1, 1986) – “A poet is a man of fancy. Moreover, each one has their own way. Who would heed to such a madman’s whim? So our ancient poets resorted to Dharma, and on the warp of religious experience and beliefs, they wove the weft of the images as they willed. One poet has said that at the end of the monsoon, seeing that the four-month period was over, the gods woke up and were delighted to see one another and began the divine symphony in the sky. To see if the joy of gods was also shared by men, the goddess of celestial splendour descended on the earth at the auspicious time of the full-moon night and went from door to door inquiring, ‘Who is awake?’”

Kalelkar also mentioned a Sanskrit poet who described the moonlight most wonderfully – the cat mistaking the light of the moon on its cheeks and moustaches for milk kept licking it over and over again.

The poetic philosophy behind Kojagari attracted men who wished to establish their elegance and poise. The quiet enjoyment with music, poetry, and picnicking on Kojagari was in stark contrast to the boisterous merrymaking associated with other festivals.

Parks and gardens in the city hosted families on Kojagari. City colleges and libraries in Pune were the favoured and sought-after venues for Kojagari celebrations. The Pune Marathi Granthalaya hosted lectures on literary topics on the Kojagiri night.

The Nagar Vachan Mandir invited teachers, professors, writers, lawyers, and artistes along with its members. They kept awake, enjoying poetry, mimicry, and music. The instruments used in the performances were modern – like the mandolin, fiddle, and jal-tarang. Coffee and fruits were served.

GN Joshi, the singer par excellence from Khamgaon, was a regular attraction on Kojagari in Pune. He sang poems penned by modern poets like Anil, Girish, and Madhav Julian and introduced the city connoisseurs to a new form of “light music”.

Coming back to Chiplunkar, he had invited several friends that night. Milk was bought. The women of the house cooked “satoris” and “karanjis”. He was waiting for the guests to arrive when someone brought him the news - the Shindes of Gwalior had captured Nanasaheb, the adopted son of Bajirao II, and handed him over to the British.

Chiplunkar was distraught, and he cancelled the celebrations. He died soon after.

The educated men, and later, women, however, continued to enjoy Kojagari with warm milk, poetry, and music.