Articles > Vestiges of Human Sacrifice

He has a bright yellow scarf wrapped around his head. In one hand he holds aloft a bright yellow flag and in the other, a red one. His eyes are wide open, the expression may well be a combination of excitement and terror – something that one may expect to see on someone riding a roller-coaster. Only here, much more is at stake. This man sits strapped to a wooden saddle which is suspended by a wooden pulley on a long grass rope. His feet rest in sandbags firmly knotted at his calves. These serve as ballast on his ride down the rope. He is the sacrifice, the bheda, which is also his caste.

‘Human sacrifice’ in Himachal exists today only as a ritual. The slide down the slope is short. Like nets that protect a tightrope walker, there is a webbing of hail-nets normally used in orchards, all along the way and at the bottom, there is a cushioning stack of grass – along with quilts and mattresses lent by villagers. Members of the state administration and the police are invariably present. No one plans to take any chances.

But there was a time when a bhunda, as the ritual is known, could well claim the life of the man on the rope. And if the man died, the devta, deity who had commanded the sacrifice would be regarded as something of a widower. For a number of years he would not be worshipped and would be shunned by the other devtas of the area.

Still substantially populated by Brahmins, the village of Nirmand in the Outer Seraj region of Kullu, is the largest village in Himachal. The word ‘Nirmand’ is regarded as a derivative of ‘Nir – mund’, or without a head. From the streams and rivers that form the corpus of ancient Indian lore, comes the story of Parshurama, who is regarded as the sixth incarnation of Lord Vishnu - and is the one just before Ram. Parshurama was one of the ten sons of the sage Jamadgani and his wife Renuka. One day the sage was beset with doubts about his wife’s fidelity and commanded Parshurama to kill her. Unable to disobey his father, Parshurama committed this heinous act. But the axe which he had used to behead his mother, refused to leave his hand. Carrying the headless body of his mother over his shoulder, Parshurama moved from place to place till he arrived at the spot where Nirmand now lies. And here, he received a boon for the revival of his dead mother.

For all practical purposes – and quite expectedly – Nirmand has become the core for the veneration of Parshurama who went on to kill twenty-one generations of the warrior kshatriyas for he felt that they had fallen in their divine duties and were finally responsible for the death of his father. For some still unexplainable reason, Nirmand has also been a major centre of the bhunda. And this, and a few other villages in the area still hold the ceremony. The most recent bhunda was held a few years back – and the ritual follows a cycle of approximately twelve years.

Preparations for a bhunda begin months in advance. Firewood, ghee and grain are stored in the temple’s bhandara, store for the feasting that normally lasts for several weeks. Devtas in richly bedecked palanquins arrive with their devotees from other villages to witness the event. The bheda, the man to be ‘sacrificed’ is lodged in the temple where he is well looked after. All his demands are met and even today, fifteen to twenty people act as his attendants. Offerings in the form of cash, grain and jewellery are collected. Earlier, if the man died while performing the ritual, his family would never want again and if he survived, he would be a rich man.

While waiting for the auspicious date of the bhunda, the bheda steadily fashions the grass rope on which he will slide – and on which his life once depended. On the appointed day, one end of the rope is pegged to the edge of high cliff while the other is attached at the bottom. As the devtas and hundreds of people watch, the bheda slides down the rope on his wooden saddle. Earlier, the only way he could die was if the rope broke and plummeted him to a fatal fall. Parshurama, in the shape of his image emerges from his temple during the bhunda but plays no role in it, except that the sanctified water is placed in his cave. His image, in the shape of a metal mask also watches the ceremony from a distance.

From Kullu, the way to Nirmand is through the Jalori pass – though the village is a little more accessible from the direction of Shimla. It was latter route that I took - after an overnight stop at Rampur.

Out of the town of Rampur, in the early morning light, the waters of the river Satluj lay grey-green and flowed quite steadily on their way down to the Arabian Sea. There was no sign of the threat that lay upstream with what was being called a ‘water bomb’. A landslide in China had blocked the Parechu, a tributary of the Satluj and had created a huge lake that could burst at any moment. Temperatures were falling and there was talk that the waters of ‘the bomb’ were freezing over and now, the danger would lie with the spring thaw. Past the Bailey bridge, over the Satluj and one could see what the river was capable of. A few years ago, the Satluj had suddenly risen by several metres and swept all that it could in a few stormy minutes. The last bridge had got in the way and now, its remnants lay in midstream - and the gorge, still held the high-watermark.

From the banks of the Satluj, the track rises in zigzag snips. The first section is through bare rock and scraggy bushes. These weaves of tarmac hold the training camp of one the few mountain batteries that still uses pack animals. As we drove past, some mules were reluctantly going through the motions of learning to move in tight figures of eight and in tighter loops. The animals and their patient trainers were soon left behind and pine and eucalyptus covered the last stretch to the village of Nirmand.

Stepping into the realms of verifiable history, one of the oldest extant records from the hills of Himachal comes in the shape of what is called the ‘Nirmand Copper Plate’. This plate records a land grant and is dated to the seventh century. Interestingly, Nirmand is regarded to have developed when Parshurama gave land to several Brahmins as atonement for all the killing he had done.

Narrow streets – some paved with concrete, some with flagstones, some with tarmac and many still of dusty mud – wind their way through the few acres that form the core of this village that may well have been inhabited for a millennium and a half. The age may slip further back if one were to accept the inferences of Dr. P.C. Kashyap. Dr. Kashyap divides his time between Nirmand, which is his ancestral village and Delhi. At various times he was the spokesman for the ministries of defence, agriculture and commerce. He is also the author of the book entitled ‘Traditions of the Himalayas’. His conjecture is that Nirmand was a part of Harappan urbanisation. Kashyap bases his conjecture on the presence of thirty-five similarities between Nirmand and the four millennia old Indus Valley Civilisation. These include the presence of gridlines that form the village, the situation of the kothi, the primary temple of Parshurama as a citadel and the role of the fresh water springs of Nirmand. At the time of the bhunda, three of the village’s five springs played an important part and the water was filled from these - while twelve lit diyas were placed by each.

The path to the kothi of Parshurama slices through the heart of the village. En route lies the sacred ‘Latta Baoli’ where clear spring water gushes into a small tank. Then is the tiny – but remarkably elegant – temple of Shiva that is barely the height of a child but has perfectly classical proportions. The temple of Parshurama has a pentroof and age-old lines of wood and intricate carvings make its façade. Here lies the mythical axe of Parshurama and several other items of dress and armour that are attributed to him – and are only taken out their cave at the time of a bhunda.

Today, the rope of the bhunda may well have been replaced by the high tension wires that sweep out of high-tech caverns and carry electricity to India’s northern grid from the power house of the Satluj Jal Vidhyut Pariyojna ( formerly, the Nathpa Jakhri Power Corporation ). But yet, technology has not replaced belief – and perhaps never will. Nirmand stands testimony.

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