TRADITIONS OF A TRIBAL HEAD
The Madigas proudly point to Adijambuvu as their great ancestor. He was the “grandfather of the Madigas,” who was created “six months before the world began.” This places Adijambuvu as to time, for in India “the world began” when the Aryans made their conquests, and this man, who was “the first Madiga,” was one of those who were in possession of the soil when the invaders came.
Now Adijambuvu was very great. No matter what Rama wanted to do about war, he first went and asked him, as patriarchal head, for his advice, and then did what he said. Though of high estate when the Aryans first came in contact with the sons of the soil, the day of humiliation came to Adijambuvu. He fell from his height.
There was in those days a cow, called Kamadhenu, for she was the “cow of plenty.” A boy, whose name was Vellamanu, tended the cow, and she gave much milk. Adisakti, the primeval energy worshipped by the aborigines, permitted the gods to drink the milk of Kamadhenu.
The boy, Vellamanu, desired exceedingly to taste of the milk. But the gods said: “You shall not by any means partake of it.” He would not rest satisfied. One day he lay down as if sick. By stealth he took the pot from which the gods had drunk the milk, poured water into it and drank it. He said to himself: “If the milk tastes so good, how must the meat taste?” Kamadhenu became aware of his evil intentions. At the very thought that any one should desire to eat her flesh, her spirit departed, and she fell dead.
The gods heard what had happened. They came to the spot and found Kamadhenu dead. What should be done? They went to Adijambuvu and said: “You are the greatest among us. You must divide her into four parts.” He did so. One part he retained for himself, one part was given to Brahma, one to Vishnu, and one to Siva. They took their parts and went away.
Ere long the gods came back and said, “We must have the cow again.” They brought their three parts, and called for Adijambuvu’s part. But the boy, Vellamanu, had meantime cut off a piece and was boiling it. As it bubbled in the pot a particle of the meat rose with the bubbles and fell into the fire. He took it up, blew against it, so that the moisture in his breath touched the meat, and put it back into the pot.
Adijambuvu took his part of the cow, and with the other three parts proceeded to create a new cow. But, alas! the flesh that had been boiled and breathed upon could not be replaced. Kamadhenu was not as before. Loose skin was hanging down from her chin, the flesh that had formerly filled it was gone. She was reduced in every way. From her proud stature of two heads, four horns, eight feet and two tails she dwindled down to the present size of the cow.
The gods said, “Adijambuvu has to come down from his height and be beneath us.” Thus the day of his humiliation began. He dug himself a well, and the boy, Vellamanu, dug another, for caste difference rose between them.
Such is the legend of the “grandfather of the Madigas.” But who was the boy, Vellamanu, whose interference had so great an effect? There is among the Pariahs a priestly caste called the Valluvas, who preserve to this day, with great faithfulness, a species of learning that is akin to the priestly lore of Brahmin sages. Vestiges of Sanscrit learning are found among them, which point back to a time when the Aryan hermits were on friendly terms with the aboriginal tribes, willing to teach them. It seems when the days of separation and caste feeling came, the Valluvas formed the link between the old and the new.
The boy, Vellamanu, had milk to offer to the gods. Adisakti regarded the gods with favour and allowed them to drink, for the Aryans partook of the cults of the aborigines; they imbibed aboriginal ideas. But when the boy, Vellamanu, would share the drink of the gods, he showed himself unworthy. The lust of meat filled his mind. It was the old bitter contention between Aryan and Dravidian, because the latter eat flesh, that wrought the change in the early friendly relations. The cause of the change was social incompatibility.
I searched in books for a trace of Adijambuvu, and found several references where he is taken out of the region of the legendary, and transplanted through his descendants into our own times. There is among the Madigas of the Canarese country a priestly tribe, called Jambu, who never intermarry with the laity, and live entirely on their contributions. A high priest, whose office is hereditary, takes frequent rounds through the country, collecting money and admonishing his followers. It is not difficult to frame the supposition that the tribal head in time became the priestly head. As the tribe scattered, the priestly hierarchy was not sufficiently powerful to make itself felt among the portions of the tribe that had migrated to some distance. Two subdivisions of the Madigas mentioned in the census, the Jambava and Jambavanta, may be direct descendants of Adijambuvu.
The legend said the “grandfather of the Madigas” was the respected adviser of Rama in matters of war. I turned to the Ramayana, the great Sanscrit epic, to find a trace of him there. The poet speaks of “Jambavan, chief of the bears,” who is probably Adijambuvu, the first Madiga. Decked out in poetical garb, to harmonize with the other heroic figures, Jambavan is honourably mentioned, and his opinions are recorded at length.
The poet of the Ramayana sought a picturesque effect by naming the hosts, who helped Rama in war, by their totems. Possibly the hosts of monkeys and bears worshipped these animals. But since Dravidian dynasties had animals as their devices, the Gheras an elephant, the Pallavas a tiger, it seems probable that the tribe of Jambavan had the bear as a device and was named by the poet accordingly. The forest Dandaka extended probably from Bundelkhand south to the Krishna River. The army of Rama was thus gathered in the region where the Madigas to-day are scattered.
Rama, the hero of the Ramayana, was a prince of the house of Oudh. He was sent into exile, and after dismissing his charioteer on the confines of civilization, he entered the great forest Dandaka. Sita, the faithful wife of Rama, a beautiful type of the Aryan woman, accompanied him, and bore contentedly the hardships of life in the jungle for love of her husband. But Ravana, King of the Rakshasas, who dwelt on the island of Lanka, Ceylon of to-day, came and carried her away. Rama, distracted with grief, called upon the chieftains of the powerful tribes of the country to aid him in the rescue of Sita. Sugriva of the monkey host was his most powerful ally. But there were others also, conspicuous among them Jambavan, chief of the bears.
A great army of combined forces is soon on its way, bent on the rescue of Sita. As they travel south, they reach the sea, and behold! On the other side is Lanka, where the wicked Ravana has imprisoned Sita, the beautiful wife of Rama. The powerful hosts of monkeys stand on the shore of the sea, and as they realize that they must bound over the deep, they waver.
They are addressed by Sugriva, the great general of the army: “Ye hosts of monkeys, unfold your respective powers in bounding!” There are rejoinders from several, but no one offers to perform so great a feat of valour.
Finally Jambavan speaks forth: “Formerly my prowess in leaping was great. But I have waxed old, and my vigour sits feebly upon me.” He cannot undertake the leap, but when the commander proposes to go before all, “the exceedingly wise Jambavan” tells him that the dignity of the master bids him order his servants to go, but not to stoop to obey an order which he himself had given. His advice prevails, and ultimately “the highly heroic monkey Hanuman” is convinced that it is due to his courage and reputation that he should be the first to undertake the leap.
With a display of much strategy and valour, Sita is rescued from the palace of the powerful Ravana, who, with his host of Rakshasas, is laid low.
All other legends concerning the Madigas contain the element of degradation, of subordination. “Jambavan, chief of the bears,” and Adijambuvu too, in his original state, stand high. No one looks down upon them. In their primitive greatness they hold their own. Alas for the heavy lines that were drawn to mark their descendants as outcasts!