CBoy in a pair of tight shorts, 31-year-old Talwar Shiva meticulously covers his torso with turmeric and vermilion, paints his face a bright red, lined his eyes with kohl, wears heavy anklets and Fill your cheeks with lemon. Finally, he picks up a pair of heavy ropes—better for whipping people—and sticks out his tongue. Like his grandfather before him, he has become Potharaju, the fearsome brother of Goddess Mahakali and a key figure in Bonalu, the traditional monsoon festival of Telangana.
Potharajas, mostly men, lead the procession in violent dances during the festival as they ward off negative energy. Although Bonalu dates back to the 19th century, it is fast attracting young people. And it is not just Bhakti that is driving this trend. As tradition and modernity converge, unemployment, the need for recognition from society, the social media frenzy, and for some the chance to show off their gym physique is fueling a desire among youth to channel their inner potharajas. The more awesome the avatar, the better.
“Young gym boys come up to me and say they want to be Pothraju because they have an attractive body!” Shiva says in anger.
He has been playing the role of Potharaju for the last 16 years and though he is only 31 years old, he is considered one of the seniors in the industry. Today, he trains at least 70 youths, most of whom are barely 20 years old. “In the last three years, we have seen an increase in youth joining us,” he says, showing a WhatsApp group of 500 potharajas that was created by a youth member. The trend coincides with the pandemic, an irony that is not lost on those aware of the legends associated with the festival, which is celebrated to thank the goddess for keeping the plague away.
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It’s different for youth
Shiva chose this line of work because it was a family legacy he vowed to continue.
As a child, he was in awe of his grandfather, who was Pothraju in the 1970s. “Even people from other religions used to come to see my grandfather’s performance – such was his enthusiasm and pomp. As a child, I was so fascinated by him that I decided that one day I would become Pothraju. After incarnating for the first time, I spent almost a year researching who Pothraju is, what is his significance, how he should behave and what are his duties,” Siva told ThePrint.
But most of today’s youth who are fascinated by the intensely aggressive display of Avatar don’t care about tradition or importance. “Young boys come up to me and say that they want to become Pothraju because they want their financial needs to be met. They want to gain traction on social media, they want to be famous in the community or in the streets. Half of them do not even understand the importance,” says a disgruntled Shiva.
For example, the vermilion and turmeric powder used by Pothraju are not store-bought. There are special rituals- ‘mantra’, ‘puja’ before a potharaju places them on his body. Shiva says that ropes made from the trunks of the banyan tree undergo a similar ritual and are soaked in milk for several days.
However, increasingly younger Potharajas are experimenting with different looks with the help of makeup. The aim is to create the furious, most terrifying avatar. According to Shiva, there are 50 older potharajas who use only turmeric and vermilion, compared to the 800 young potharajas who use make-up.
More than a decade ago, Shiva used to paint his face with wall paint, damaging his skin. “This generation wants to look good, it has become like a competition as to who can come up with that aggressive look and hence they prefer professional makeup artists. It’s not just about vermilion and turmeric anymore.”
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making money matters
Potharajas can earn from Rs 10,000 to Rs 50,000 per day depending on their age, experience and popularity. They are hired by the temple management, families maintaining any temple and local people who wish to celebrate the festival. For example, if a family wants to go to the temple with a procession, they will request a potharaju to accompany them as part of the festivities in return for payment.
Twenty-six-year-old Sagar (name changed) is one of Shiva’s ‘disciples’ and became Pothraju last year to increase his family income. His father had lost his job during the pandemic and Sagar was struggling to survive. So, he became Pothraju for a month and earned Rs.50,000.
However, Shiva often turns down ‘clients’ who want to play Avatar for purely financial reasons. “There are students who come to me saying that they want to pay their college fees by becoming Pothraju. I don’t welcome them, they can go to someone else for training. Some see it as a way to earn money on the side. In some cases, students want an edge over their friends,” says Siva, who trains men for free.
Jayadhir Tirumala Rao, a writer and academic from Telangana who works on subaltern and tribal art forms, said Bonalu has been elevated as a traditional festival of the state, especially after the bifurcation of Andhra Pradesh. ,It has become an opportunity for the youth to earn recognition in their communities. That’s why they are attracted towards it. Similar scenarios are also there in villages,” Rao said.
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no shame, it’s just a ritual
Pothraju is believed to be the brother of seven sisters – different forms of Goddess ‘Mahakali’. Among the various versions of the origins of this Nizam-era festival, the most commonly held theory dates back to 1813 when the plague struck the twin cities of Hyderabad and Secunderabad and took many lives.
Legend has it that a military battalion stationed in Ujjain in Madhya Pradesh prayed to Goddess Mahakali and vowed to feed her and build a temple to deal with the menace of plague. Promises were kept after the plague was over.
The festival, which is celebrated in phases, begins with a small temple on the hilltop of the city’s Golconda Fort – which was built during the Qutb Shahi dynasty. Women carry ‘bonam’ – translated as food – on their heads. It is a pot of rice cooked in milk and jaggery, which is offered to the deity. full procession The women walking into the temple are led by Pothraju, who violently dances to the beat of the drum and beats the dancing crowd with her ropes.
Apart from physical preparation, on the day of the festival, potharajas cannot consume alcohol, must fast and cut their nails to look neat.
While some youths are happy to bare their painted torso and show off their muscles during the procession, others are reticent.
Twenty-four-year-old Nikhil, who became Pothraju two years ago, had earlier refused to take off his clothes. “In the beginning there is some hesitation in just wearing shorts and walking in front of hundreds of people. Your neighbors, friends, they’ll all be watching you – it’s a little embarrassing. So, I had the same feeling in the beginning. But when I really understood the meaning behind this avatar and its importance, I realized wearing shorts and everything is unimportant, because it is an honor to be Pothraju,” said Nikhil.
The embarrassment is because people have failed to understand the importance of avatar, says Shiva, “and so they are ashamed to wear shorts and walk on the streets. He claims that his friends, especially his female friends, are laughing at him. But that doesn’t matter at all. It’s all about belief in deity, tradition. That’s all one should have in mind,” said Shiva.
While the Bonalu festival ends in a big way today, potharjas will continue to appear on the streets in small areas of Telangana over the next few days, leading processions in temples, dispelling negative energy with their dancing and fierce gaze. Potharjus like Sagar will wash off his makeup, put his whips aside and sit down to count the money.