India’s folk tales – Thriving in a digital age

October to February is when India sees high spikes in both domestic and local tourism across India. This is the time when charter flights to Goa begin landing, this is when the hotels near the coffee plantations in south India hike their rates. This is also when domestic carriers typically increase rates – this year rates increased by almost 24% in October alone. Other than cooler climes, this is also when most of India’s large festivals are celebrated, many of which are linked to agrarian cycles of harvesting or sowing.

There’s Dussera, Diwali, Christmas, Pongal and Chhath Puja celebrated during this period (Onam is another biggie but that was celebrated in September this year). Smaller ones such as Janmashtami or Govardhan Puja also happen during this time. Many of these festivals are celebrated in situ, and are becoming increasingly popular for non-traditional tourists who converge at temple towns to participate in the festivities and seek blessings.

I’ve travelled across many of these towns and interacted with temple priests, tourists, shop-owners, craftswomen and craftsmen, local residents, hotel owners and finally the most ‘in-you-face’ category of people, the local tourist guides to understand how modern influences are affecting traditions in these temple towns, especially that of oral story-telling. Interestingly and contrary to what most of us might think given the immediate access to information we have via our smartphones, the demand for local stories has dramatically increased over the last few years.

Part of this is due to more tourist footfalls (including that of foreign tourists) while the other is due to a demand for more engaging narratives. A demand for more anecdotal and topical stories rather than just a historical narrative. Often this topicality is derived from local folk tales and folk songs of that particular region and will be completely missing in the historical information dispensed in the formal tourist brochures.

Take Govardhan Puja or Janmashtami, for instance. You have tourists converging at all places with important Krishna temples across the country. So there would be tourists flocking to Vrindavan in Uttar Pradesh or other important temples such as the Guruvayur temple in Kerala, Dwarkadish in Gujarat, the ISKON temples (across India) or the Rajagopalaswamy Temple in Tamil Nadu among others. Domestic tourism is the economic mainstay of many of these towns, driving the local economy and providing a livelihood to the local population. In many of these places, the narration of folk tales and folk songs is an important local occupation. Yet, tourism, consumerism and other influences are subtlety influencing these tales and folklores – impacting both content and context.

Nowhere is this more apparent than in Braj in Uttar Pradesh, the region associated with Lord Krishna’s early years and interestingly the region where he spent time with consort Radha. The ancient texts, epics, and folklore within this region create culturally (though not politically) defined borders and demarcations, so that Braj can be said to cover an area of approximately 5000 sq. kms. Braj ranks high in popularity as a pilgrimage destination and tales of Krishna and Radha abound in every household and resonate off every tongue.

I would like to refer to a folktale that is narrated at two different towns of Braj Region, Gowardhan and Barsana. Radha and Krishna are at the focal point of many of narratives. While Barsana is recognized as the place where Radha grew up, Krishna is said to have spent his later childhood days at Nandgaon, 8 kms away from Barsana. Radha is considered to be Krishna’s ‘Shakti’ (strength). The folktale I refer to tells a very famous tale of adolescent Krishna at Gowardhan. In this, he lifted a hill named Giriraj or Gowardhan parbat on the tip of his little finger for seven days and nights to shield the Brajwasi (people of Braj) from a deluge of rain sent down by an angry Lord Indra. Most Indians are familiar with this narrative. However in neighbouring Barsana, where Radha grew up, the same folktale recounts the same plot and form but includes an important element missing in the other tale. It recounts that it was Radha, the embodiment of ‘Shakti’ (female supernatural power) who was the actual enabler of Krishna’s heroic act. The tale states that it was Radha who supported Krishna by giving him her divine power to lift the hill. The power came from her left eyelashes and also enabled her to remain invisible.

The transmission of the folktales and folk songs from one generation to the next results in variations which leads to effective narration for eager audiences. The authenticity of these variations cannot be challenged as each version seems to be true. The narrators comprise the Pandas or Goswamis (local priests) and the local tourist guides. Unfortunately I did not find any female priests or female guides. The use of quotes, proverbs, folk metaphors, and other linguistic clichés is fairly common, depending on the narrator. The story-teller weaves in elements from festivals, social events, occasions and human relationships from across the region. The folk tales are so much a part of the cultural ethos of the region that they have also been converted into folk songs, sung by the young and old alike with local CD renditions of it – always in high in demand by tourists and locals both. Interestingly, the modern renditions of these popular folksongs have even used western songs and musical instruments – such as a popular version called ‘Happy Birthday Radhaji’. Symbolic references to other religions also creep in, often well integrated within the folktale itself. For example, in Barsana, local folklore includes the narratives of Gulab Sakhi, a Mughal soldier who became a devotee of Radha. Local narrators delight in highlighting the tale of Radha staying with an old soldier named Gulab Sakhi, disguised as his daughter. Gulab Sakhi’s own daughter had left him after her marriage and he missed her desperately, and was longing to see her. When Radha got to know this, she disguised herself and lived with him as his daughter. He eventually realized this and subsequently became one of her greatest devotees.

It is through oral transmission that the stories continue to form the textures of the lives and livelihoods in these regions and many other regions as well. Elements of social justice, fairness and humanity combine into a rich tapestry enabling these traditional narratives survive. While it is interesting to see how the telling of these tales, many of which originated in oral traditions, continues to flourish, it will be fascinating to see how continuing modern influences will affect these narratives in times to come!


(The article is authored by Tulika Chandra, Associate Professor, Shiv Nadar University)