Perhaps the forty windmills, technically supported by the multinational power major Suzlon, have helped mitigate the acute electricity shortages that have pestered the verdant hills of Attappati for long. The gigantic blades, visible from many points of the tribal region, have redefined its pristine skyscape. The transmission towers of six mobile phone operators spot the sky too, giving finishing touches to the new vista.
The new source of energy has unintentionally breathed a fresh lease of life to moribund gods. Something like a theol
ogical lifeline!! The new meandering roads to the hilltops where these machines are located have driven many tribal groups into panic. They have seen it before. Masters clad in impeccable clothes landing en masse, throwing promises around, and poaching whatever possible. New roads mean the loss of more land, something the lot clings on to these days. Realty is flourishing and to own land simply means one can marry daughters off better, and conversely bargain for more dowries when it is the turn of sons.
There is no official platform to resist. The company sells the locally generated power to the state owned electricity board which redistributes it at subsidized rates and free in the case of agriculture, not to say anything about the rampant power theft and fraudulent meters. The woes thus have manifested in a different form. Many a god has been resurrected from the valley of oblivion. They were condemned to the Netherlands of belief by two principal agencies. One was those people who believe adivaasis are Hindus and their gods were nothing but
the corrupted or deteriorated forms of real gods like Vishnu, Siva and Parvathy. Non-vegetarianism, penchant for alcohol and gory looks were the result of alienation from the epicenter of Hindiuism which they identified with the brahminical gods and goddesses. The other group was missionaries who saw the pantheon of gods as devils themselves and to be demolished to establish any chance of attained heaven.
As if to compete with the new machines, the old gods have been installed atop hills. They are simple, rude and quite undemanding as their followers. Perhaps these gods are afraid of changes and will resist them to the hilt. They are not overtly hungry, never obstinate, unassuming and do not need a cozy sanctum sanctorum to sleep in, unlike sought-after gods at Guruvayoor and many churches. Poor people, poor gods. Anthropomorphism at its best, one may say. They body forth the fear of a people branded as backward and exploited like anything. From this hilltop you can see a double storied building painted read and just empty. It is an old age home built by the government for the aging tribal population. Somehow the brains behind the plan forgot for a senile adivaasi nothing was dearer and more important that remain in the village he was born into and brought up. Life is more collective and to look after an old man is not a big deal for them unlike their educated and enlightened city counterparts.
The new source of energy has unintentionally breathed a fresh lease of life to moribund gods. Something like a theol
ogical lifeline!! The new meandering roads to the hilltops where these machines are located have driven many tribal groups into panic. They have seen it before. Masters clad in impeccable clothes landing en masse, throwing promises around, and poaching whatever possible. New roads mean the loss of more land, something the lot clings on to these days. Realty is flourishing and to own land simply means one can marry daughters off better, and conversely bargain for more dowries when it is the turn of sons.There is no official platform to resist. The company sells the locally generated power to the state owned electricity board which redistributes it at subsidized rates and free in the case of agriculture, not to say anything about the rampant power theft and fraudulent meters. The woes thus have manifested in a different form. Many a god has been resurrected from the valley of oblivion. They were condemned to the Netherlands of belief by two principal agencies. One was those people who believe adivaasis are Hindus and their gods were nothing but
the corrupted or deteriorated forms of real gods like Vishnu, Siva and Parvathy. Non-vegetarianism, penchant for alcohol and gory looks were the result of alienation from the epicenter of Hindiuism which they identified with the brahminical gods and goddesses. The other group was missionaries who saw the pantheon of gods as devils themselves and to be demolished to establish any chance of attained heaven.As if to compete with the new machines, the old gods have been installed atop hills. They are simple, rude and quite undemanding as their followers. Perhaps these gods are afraid of changes and will resist them to the hilt. They are not overtly hungry, never obstinate, unassuming and do not need a cozy sanctum sanctorum to sleep in, unlike sought-after gods at Guruvayoor and many churches. Poor people, poor gods. Anthropomorphism at its best, one may say. They body forth the fear of a people branded as backward and exploited like anything. From this hilltop you can see a double storied building painted read and just empty. It is an old age home built by the government for the aging tribal population. Somehow the brains behind the plan forgot for a senile adivaasi nothing was dearer and more important that remain in the village he was born into and brought up. Life is more collective and to look after an old man is not a big deal for them unlike their educated and enlightened city counterparts.
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