For the first time in so many decades, I got a chance to witness people praying for rains. WhatsApp-sized digital posters were doing the rounds, telling us that the prayers were being held in some parts of Goa. In Dessua in Salcete, at the St Joseph Vaz Spiritual Centre at Old Goa, and at Corjuem in Bardez. The last was subsequently covered in the newspaper.
Then, similar events were held at Aguada. A friend messaged that they were having prayers too. A villager said they would be doing the same at a cross in Tabravaddo, in Saligao. Maybe the same was held at other places which didn’t announce the same online.
Faith, as someone said, is the quiet strength that keeps working when nothing seems to be happening. This event is of interest at multiple levels.
In the past, one had only seen sketches and depictions of the same, from previous years. It came across in nostalgic books about the Goa of the past. For instance, those written by the late Fr Nascimento Mascarenhas, and the artist-author Mel D’Souza, a Goan based in Canada. This time, thanks to the vagaries of nature, one got a chance to witness the same. With mixed feelings.
By some coincidence, on the eve of the prayers, the weather bureau had announced that monsoons were on their way. Maybe due on Monday. One can read this any which way. The cynic would say that if you wait long enough, the monsoons will anyway show up. Others pointed out that the Met Office can get things wrong quite often (though, at times, their accuracy shows signs of improving).
Yet, this year’s delay in the monsoons has been rather worrying. In our media-saturated society, such trends get echoed even more strongly, as social media and mainstream media echo such concerns.
But it is true. Our monsoons have been behaving erratically as never before.
Delayed or early onsets (like last year). Long dry spells between heavy bouts of rain. Short periods of rather intense downpours. These have even triggered floods and landslides in some areas. Rainfall that is unevenly distributed across the season. Farmers have found it difficult to plan their sowing operations. Blame it on changing weather patterns. All this has impacted our agriculture, infrastructure, and daily life in Goa.
Not just that. Even Europe is talking about unbearable heatwaves. These are regions which, till not too long back, didn’t know (or need) a ceiling fan, given their weather.
Something that does not change (at least for a few) though is the faith of the people. Whether one is personally religious or not, it is amazing to encounter those who have confidence in the higher power to come to their rescue. While it is easy to dismiss these merely as beliefs of the past, even as unscientific or irrational, the faith of our ancestors is something that might inspire us even in our more ‘rational’ times.
Where do such traditions come from? Your guess is as good as mine. Yet, we are not the only ones holding such beliefs. An online search suggests that across many cultures, delayed rains have traditionally prompted special prayers from a wide range of devotees. These have culminated in processions and rituals seeking divine intervention for rain.
In parts of India, Hindus may perform ceremonies such as the Varuna Yajna dedicated to the rain deity. Some Catholic communities, including in Goa and especially in the past, are known to have held special services or processions. These were taken out along with statues of patron saints to pray for timely monsoon showers.
Muslims may perform the Salat al-Istisqa, a congregational prayer specifically offered during drought. It is a humble act of supplication and repentance, seeking Allah’s mercy and relief. Similar customs exist worldwide. All these could be said to reflect the dependence of agrarian societies on seasonal rainfall. People opting for this show their belief that collective prayer, repentance and acts of charity can invoke divine mercy and bring much-needed rain.
Each one would see it in keeping with their own beliefs. Even non-believers among us cannot deny that prayer has its own beneficial effects, for which there are psychological explanations.
But there’s nothing like the words of the late Pope Francis, who explains the concept of prayer in the following terms. He once said: “You pray for the hungry. Then you feed them. That’s how prayer works.” Based on Ignatian spirituality, comments such as these emphasise the reality that faith requires both spiritual and hands-on action.
The prayers for rain carry with them a sentiment of atonement. Just imagine the wisdom of our ancestors. Even in those times, when it was still not clear what impact the human race was having on its only planet, they brought themselves to believe that the lack of rain was somehow due to their own sins. In our times of global warming---however much the Donald Trumps of the world might deny it---we are all the more responsible for what’s going wrong.
It’s common to hear the often-repeated refrain that we, the human species, have been guilty for the environmental devastation taking place right before our very eyes. This is so true.
For those who are devout, there’s a religious message coming through. Others can find an ecological memo, telling us to take note of how our actions impact the planet. We are also reminded about traditions, and the gist that these leave behind for us. There is also something to be said about community solidarity in taking on crises that are often bigger than we ourselves can handle.
