In the ancient Devdasi system, girls, at a very young age were "married-off" to the Temple; "Serving" the priests & local lords, was supposed to be akin to "service" to God! This practice persists even today...


DEVDASI'S SAGA

If you take the country road from Dharwad, Karnataka, you will reach the small temple village of Saundatti in South India. It is in this village that the devdasi tradition, is still practiced. She is dedicated to this service of the Temple Deity for life...there is no escape for her... Despite the governmental ban, initiated in the 1980s, hundreds of girls are secretly dedicated to Goddess Yellamma every year.

DEVDASI'S SAGA

I could hear the temple bell
Ringing in my ears,
The day I was born
To an unwedded mother, or rather
My mother was "married" to the temple!
But,
Temple was not my father!
I could hear the temple bells
Ringing in my ears...

I could hear the temple walls,
Heaving sighs in the dead of night,
Sighs of satisfaction...
I could hear my mother's sobs,
Intermingle with the sighs,
Sighs of dissatisfaction-
Of helpless-submission...
As I slept on the cold-rough stone,
My cradle in the darkest chamber,
Where light hardly ever entered,
I missed a father's loving touch,
When I asked my mother,
She said:
The temple was my father!

Then one day, through the
Half shut doors, I saw:
The priest heaving and hawing,
Full of sweat...
The pained surprise in my mother' eyes,
(On being so exposed),
Silently beseeching me
With helpless tearful eyes:
"Go away! You're still too young!"

But one day, I grew up!

I felt the "touch",
A creeping crawling, lustful touch,
The expression in the priest's eyes,
Matched the touch,
As he held me in his clutch...
Nausea welled up in my throat:
It was not a father's touch,
I could feel it in my innocent bones...

Then another, then another...

Now, I am "My Mother"...

Like her, I do not know,
The father of the baby in my womb...

Like my mother, I am going to
Tell, my daughter:
"Temple is your father!"

This has gone on for centuries,
And still goes on...
This will go on forever...

I am the Devdasi of the Temple...
Temples may crumble...
But,
I will go on
Forever...


Author: Zoya Zaidi
Aligarh (UP), India
Copyright©: Zoya Zaidi



*Devasi-http://theglimpse.com/newsite/printarticle2.asp?articleid=198




Poetry by Zoya Zaidi
Read 1712 times
Written on 2006-05-19 at 13:40

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Kathy Lockhart
Zoya, I have just read one site. I see this as Sexual Slavery instead of prositution. My view of prostitution is that the "prostitute chooses her vocation. A sexual slave is bought and sold without regard to their wishes. Whatever it is labeled it is horrendous. It sickens me. I believe that this sort of manipulation and exploitation goes on in many religions as people are so caught up in pleasing man instead of God. I have only heard of this just today. It is discusting how those who place themselves in the authority of being spokesmen for "God" are so filled with evil.
2006-06-12


she
That tradition is sooo horrible I can scream*******.The way you've put is so vivid you'd think it was an interview with the lady herself.I think emancipation of women still has a long way to go....especially if institutions such as the temple are the ones putting shackles on these women in the name of religion and tradition!....Well,I can only pray for those dear souls though I really wish I was in a position to do something about it.......
2006-05-31


Teala
This is one of your most chilling, vivid poems ever. It gave me chills, I read it again and again utterly amazed...
2006-05-28


Shas Ramlogan
Again, I can relate profoundly with this piece as I did with another you have written on the mustard fields in kashmir. We both share the same culture but with me being transplated through history, reading your poems have given me a real, traditional, earth-bound sense of my roots. A passionate, teaching, inspiring piece in many ways.
2006-05-24


Malin Johansson
This one is good written as always, but kind of sad... does it have to go on like that forever, that's tragic...
Rgds and hugs
2006-05-22


Alaina K. Johnson
This is fascinating, and sad. I've never heard of this practise, but it's pretty horrible. Your poem is wonderful and expressive and, in a twisted sad way, beautiful.

Thank you for sharing this piece!

xx Alaina
2006-05-20


fungi
A very important poem. You express it all very well! Thankyou for that education... I won't forget that in a hurry.
Thankyou!
/fungi
2006-05-20


Kathy Lockhart
Zoya, you have educated, stimulated my mind, touched my spirited and awakened my soul to the horrors that exist is our world. This is another powerful writing that impacts all those who read it. Thank you for your humanitarian enlightenment.
2006-05-20


Telesforos
I've read about the devdasis; how they served the sun god, Surya, in the temples, and it is said that they were ensured a place in Suryaloka, the heaven of Surya. And how the sons of the devadasis became natturvarnas, musicians and dance teachers. However, it became more and more degenerated and corrupt by the brahmins through the increasing prostitution. But the books (at least the ones that I've read) always says that there are no devadasis in India today. So, it is chocking to read your poem with that in mind, and although it is a sad poem, it is also a very beautiful one!
2006-05-19



A text which burns and vibrates of compassion!
2006-05-19



a sad but beautiful wrote Piece,,,I liked It ,,,huggs you me
2006-05-19


penfold18
Pitiful in its barbarity, the sooner its stamped out the better, thanks for sharing.
2006-05-19


Daybreaker
Phew!

This is a very strong poem in deed! And an important one!

What an awful fate! I sigh...
2006-05-19

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Joy and Sorrow by Zoya Ziadi
by Zoya Zaidi