The 'evolution' of Hindu gods

A fallout of the Aryan Invasion / Migration Theory (AIT / AMT) is the elaborate hypothesis
of how Hinduism and its deities and cults “evolved” from Vedic times through the Puranic to the
present. In a nutshell, the Vedic people, vastly outnumbered by the “natives” of the subcontinent,
were forced to assimilate their gods and cults into their own religion in order to increase their
acceptability with the “natives” and ease their “expansion” into the mainland without having to
resort to strife. For such academicians and scholars, the Purāṇas represent a religion that is for all
practical purposes distinct from the Vedic, a sort of equilibrium between the deities of the “Vedic
people” and the “natives”, and an amalgamation of the two. Old deities were inexorably lost, while
new, strange gods with their own mythologies took their place. There was supposedly a tilt in
power, and the likes of Indra and Agni of the Ṛg Veda (RV) progressively lost out to “outsiders” like
Rudra / Śiva in subsequent Vedas, and were irreversibly demoted by the time of the Purāṇas. While
some assimilation and interpolation may indeed have taken place over the centuries (such as in the
case of Sai Baba, who is regarded by many as an incarnation of Dattātreya), such sweeping theories
need re-visiting in the light of the fact that archaeologists and historians now believe the AIT / AMT
to be totally unfounded and that, far from a culture shift as postulated by it, there is a near-total
cultural continuity from the earliest Indus Valley Tradition. Yet, in what can only be a sign of
intellectual inertia, theories about this supposed 'evolution' and 'assimilation' of deities and cults
continue without the slightest re-look.

In a recent series of articles in DailyO, Rohini Bakshi attempts to summarise current

scholarly opinion about the 'origins and evolution' of that most hallowed of gods, Śiva from the first
known representation of a similar deity in the famed Mohenjodaro Paśhupati seal to the present. For
a taste, she says, “... Vedic Rudra is not of ārya origin and … the Atharvaveda represents his
increased acceptance … ,” and later, “... certain characteristics were grafted deliberately onto Rudra
in what is now known as the Puranic Process.” At the very outset, I wish to make it very clear that I
very much appreciate her endeavour to demystify our ancient texts for the general reader. However,
it is necessary to take a critical look at the theories quoted in her articles. They are, after all, central
to the history of India. They are being taught to entire generations of Indians in textbooks as
mainstream scholarship. What evidence are they based on? I shall attempt to evaluate these theories
through the example of Rudra / Śiva, as Bakshi does, using her articles as handy summaries of
these.

The smell test

Assimilation theories have always seemed very absurd to me: why at all would anyone have
tried to assimilate non-Aryan deities into the Vedas? Mind you, we are not talking of popular
colloquial myths – those may go some way to assuring the subjugated that the dominating classes
are well-meaning and even respectful of their deities and cults. But, judging by the lengths those
who traditionally had knowledge of the Vedas went to preserve and perpetuate them, altering them
to suit “popular demand” seems to never have been even remotely considered. I do not know if the
implicit assumption is that the Vedas were popular religion; if yes, the assumption is very bizarre.
No matter how few the Vedic people were, the Vedas were never the religion of the man in the
street, but more on that below. An entire section of society was commandeered purely for their
study and preservation. Their knowledge was very strictly restricted within this very small group.
There were bars on most people even hearing their recitation. Only those invested with the sacred
thread would be taught them. When officiating in rituals for those belonging to most other castes,
Brahmins typically employed Purāṇokta rituals (where the Mantras employed were from the
Purāṇas, not the Vedas). The Vedas were transmitted purely orally for millennia and deliberately
never committed to writing till about five centuries ago. (Given the estimated dates for the first
written copies of the Ṛg Veda, I suspect the Vedas were written as a desperate compromise after the
Islamic conquest of India began. The invasion represented, for the first time, a very real prospect of
a break in the transmission of the Vedas. All of India's great universities – some of which had
thrived continuously for almost two millennia – were catastrophically destroyed within a space of
fifty years, to say nothing of countless traditional Pāṭhaśālas, which were typically attached to
temples.)

Also, what message could possibly have been conveyed by extolling the deities of the 'non-
Aryan' communities in Vedic Sanskrit? As late as the 6th century BCE, the Buddha's big draw was
that he used the languages of the common people, Prakrit and Pali. By this time, the 'Indo-Aryan
Vedic people' were supposed to have established themselves all over the Gangetic plain, and
Brahminism had taken a stranglehold on the masses. The Buddha's and the Mahāvīra's success was
owing to the fact that people were feeling suffocated by the by-now well-entrenched caste system
and an endless sequence of rituals from cradle to grave, performed in Sanskrit, a language they had
very little understanding of, leaving them at the utter mercy of the Brahmins.

In addition to such clear-cut proscription, a vast array of subtler techniques was deployed
too.

What is mentioned, and what is not

Try a thought experiment. Imagine you are back in the time when the Gāyatrī Mantra is not
a very common ringtone or doorbell tune, when Mantras from the Vedas cannot be played at the
click of a button on YouTube, when there are no loudspeakers. In fact, go back about five centuries,
when the Vedas were not yet committed to writing. How would you have known what exactly the
“Gāyatrī” Mantra is? During investiture, the father whispers it into the ear of his son whilst they are
both draped by a cloth so no-one can even lip-read them. Even the mother, in whose lap the son has
been sitting till this moment in the investiture, is not allowed into the secret. Gāyatrī is merely the
name of the metre, and there are several mantras in this metre in the Vedas. Even the name used for
the most important and common Mantra is meant to obscure!

Even if you had a copy of the Vedas, you would be hard pressed to figure it out. In the S ūkta
where it occurs, the next two Mantras too are in the Gāyatrī Metre and devoted to Savitṛ (3.62.10-
12), and there are others elsewhere (like 1.22.5-8). In the Bṛhadāraṇyakā Upanishad, the sage
Yājñavalkya explains the significance of the “Gāyatrī” Mantra (without specifying which one
exactly), but you could today read the Vedas from cover to cover without figuring out which Mantra
it is that one must first be initiated to before one can even start being taught the Vedas. And the key
Bījākśaras, Bhuḥ, Bhuvaḥ and Suvaḥ are simply never mentioned anywhere – in the Ṛg Veda
Saṃhita, the Mantra (3.62.10) simply reads, “Tatsavitur vareṇyam bhargo devasya dhīmahi dhiyo
yonaḥ pracodayāt.”

No effort was spared to ensure that no-one outside a very tightly regulated group knew even
the first thing about them. Major, often critical, elements from Vedic knowledge were not
mentioned expressly at all, deliberately leaving them to direct transmission from teacher to the
taught. For this reason, one cannot argue that knowledge of something did not exist at a certain
point in the Vedic composition simply because it is not mentioned where one expects it to be.
Unfortunately, this is how academics and scholars seem to be studying the Vedas – whilst being
totally divorced from their practice.
Far removed from basic Hindu practices

A fundamental problem with many academic scholars seems their lack of basic familiarity
with Hindu practices. While I do not expect everyone academic who wishes to study Hinduism to
be a practising Hindu, I do wish they would sit through at least a few basic pujas or talk to a well-
trained Archaka (priest) in any temple before theorising – and yes, I also mean many Indian
academics. Drawing up elaborate hypotheses whilst relying almost entirely upon ancient texts, and
interpretations / translations of these by other poorly-informed, and often prejudiced, scholars, and
with next to no idea about the actual practice, let alone the nuances, of the religion these texts are an
integral part of, while no doubt a very intellectually rewarding exercise, is fraught with enormous
dangers – not the least of which is the danger of being disproved by first-principles arguments. And
yet, such scholars seem not to care the least, dismissing anyone who questions their theories as
‘outside accepted scholarship’.

Take, for instance, the scholars quoted by Bakshi in her articles. The fundamental premise
seems to be, as Bakshi says in her first article, “Rudra of the Rg Veda is a minor deity, a storm god
with just three hymns dedicated to him: 1.114, 2.33 and 6.46.” He also possibly originally belongs
to non-Vedic people. However, ostensibly to insinuate themselves with these supposedly vastly
numerically superior tribes, he is slowly interpolated into the Vedic pantheon, rising by the time of
the “later” Yajur Veda to become an almost all-encompassing supreme deity, while slowly acquiring
hitherto-undocumented but today instantly recognisable attributes like Nīlagrīva (blue-throated),
Giriśa (mountain dweller), Viṣāpaharaṇa (remover of poison) and, indeed, Śiva (the auspicious one)
itself, indicating increasing acceptance of his cult and myths by the Vedic people, finally emerging
as the all-powerful Śiva of the ‘much later’ Purāṇas with his own extensive mythology. There are
multiple simplistic assumptions and errors here; let us consider them one by one.

Was this deity ‘trending’ then?

Such simplistic theories always assume the Vedic people beforehand to be a distinct ethnic
group, although no scientific evidence exists for this. Also, assuming, for the sake of argument, that
they were a distinct ethnic group, why the assumption that the Vedic people were inevitable,
automatic colonialists in the style of the modern Europeans? At any rate, summarising such
scholarly theories, Bakshi says, “By the time of the composition of the Yajur Veda Saṃhitas, Rudra
has grown tremendously in stature. … From being a minor atmospheric deity in the Rg Saṃhita, he
has become Viśvarūpa. … The renowned Śatarudrīya prayer which occurs in the Kṛṣṇa Yajurveda…
becomes a central text in the worship of the Purāṇic Śiva centuries later. … The Atharvaveda
represents a further stage of elevation for the Vedic Rudra. Book XV of this Saṃhita identifies him
with all of creation in a language which is distinctly Vedic ...”

Firstly, there is no mention of the Sūkta, RV 7.46 addressed to Rudra, composed by the great
Vasiṣṭha. One should not lose sight of very telling verses like 4.3.1, where Agni and Rudra are
indistinguishable, or 4.3.5-7 where Agni is apprehensively asked what he will convey to Rudra and
Vishnu on behalf of the worshipper. Or RV 7.59.12, also composed by Vasiṣṭha, in which Rudra is
said to grant immortality itself – the celebrated Mrutyunjaya Mantra; isn’t disposal of one’s ultimate
destiny itself a bit much for a ‘minor storm god’?

Importantly, such scholars appear to be unaware of the fact that, traditionally, the Pancha
Rudra Sūktam – the collation of the five major Rudra Sūktas from the various Maṇḍalas of the Ṛg
Veda – is very commonly chanted. Learning the Pancha Rudra and its Ghanapāṭha (the slow,
syllable-by-syllable recitation, going back and forth syllables in a specifically laid down pattern –
which is not unlike the slow, repetitive elaboration of a Khayal to bring out the full expression of
the Raga) is deemed as important as learning the Śatarudrīya – they distinguish great Vedic
scholars. The exacting Ghanapāṭha chant was developed to ensure that there was no major loss of
knowledge in what was always supposed to be an oral tradition. The stress laid on the Ghanapāṭha,
in particular, underscores the importance that has always been attached with the Pancha Rudra.

In their ivory tower, the scholars seem to be unaware of another rather common fact: of all
the Vedic Sūktas, the Śatarudrīya is known to be especially difficult to chant. It normally takes years
of training and practice to master, and one is clearly asked to not chant it unless one has achieved
perfect pronunciation; in orthodox thought, incorrect pronunciation – of Rudra-Mantras in particular
– is believed to cause adverse effects. No less than the great authority on the scriptures, Swami
Krishnananda, long-time General Secretary of the Divine Life Society, mentions this in his talk on
the Śatarudrīya. But we are asked to believe that the Vedic people held out an olive branch to non-
Aryans by assimilating their Rudra by composing a hymn so complex that only a microscopic
minority was allowed to recite.

This also explains why the Śatarudrīya and most other Rudra-Mantras occur in the Yajur and
Atharva Vedas, and not so many in the Ṛg. Outside the traditional Śākhas taxed with the
perpetuation of the respective Vedas, only one who has mastered the Ṛg Veda is deemed to be good
enough to be taught the Yajus, and only one who has mastered Ṛg, Yajus and Sāma is fit for being
taught the Atharva, if at all. It is like the progression from a bachelor's degree to a master's to a
doctor of philosophy. As my friend, Dr. Varun Singh of Liverpool pointed out, it is not for no reason
that we have surnames like Bedi, Dwivedi, Trivedi and Chaturvedi in increasing order of reverence,
and since anyone who could learn all four Vedas (Caturvedi) must be of exceptional calibre, the
word, Catur has become synonymous with intelligent. I shall dwell more upon this point three
sections later.

Also, mere non-mention of Śiva’s “Puraṇic” attributes cannot be equated with non-existence
of such attributes, as these scholars often do. Explaining underlying legends was simply never the
basic function of the Vedas. After all, one of the oldest Rudra-mantras there is anywhere – the
universally recognised Mrutyunjaya Mantra (RV 7.59.12) – alludes to Rudra’s power to save one
from death and grant immortality, but the legend behind it is not exactly explained anywhere in the
Vedas, is it?

Is the Rudra of the Śatarudrīya, ‘Purāṇic Śiva’?

If you ever visit Basara in Telangana, one of the canonical Shakti Peethas – where the
supreme Godhead is worshipped as the Mother, here Saraswati – and you are a very early riser, I
strongly recommend you attend the first ritual of the day at 4 a.m., the Abhiṣheka of the presiding
deity, performed in the classic Vedic format. It is a stirring experience, not least because it begins
with the Śatarudrīya, followed by the Puruṣa, Nārāyaṇa and Śrī Sūktas. Yes, you read that right.
That is the way the Abhiṣheka is invariably done in the Vedic format for any deity, even female and
even if they are not Śiva, Vishnu, Lakshmi or incarnations / aspects thereof. To say that the Rudra of
the Śatarudrīya of the Kṛṣṇa Yajur Veda, and, by extension, of the Ṛg Veda as some of the verses are
common to both, is Śiva as he occurs in the Purāṇas is, therefore, perhaps an oversimplification.

The Śatarudrīya, by the way, is an Aṣṭottara Śata-nāma (list of hundred names – in Hindu
faith, merely chanting the various names of a deity is supposed to confer all benefits, from health
and material well-being to spiritual advancement) and is perhaps the archetype for Nāmāvaḷi hymns
to every deity that can be found in the Purāṇas and Tantras. There are separate Śiva Sahasranamas
and Śiva Aṣṭottaras in the various Purāṇas and Tantras, but they are used exclusively for Śiva.
Indeed, in the oceanic volumes of the Purāṇas and Tantras, there are separate Nāmāvaḷi hymns for
the various aspects of Śiva, such as Mrutyunjaya, Nataraja, the many Bhairavas etc., which are used
specifically in the ritual worship of the respective forms. But, unlike the Śatarudrīya, one cannot use
a Śiva Aṣṭottara for any other deity. More on the differences between Vedic and Purāṇic ritual later.

Oversimplifying Vedic deities

Bakshi’s first article says, ostensibly quoting the approach of mainstream scholars, “One of
the adjectives used for him [Rudra in the Ṛg Veda – clarification mine] is indeed Śiva (auspicious),
but not exclusively. It is used for Agni and Indra…” She seems to be using this as a further
argument why the ostensibly non-Aryan Rudra is marginal and minor to the Aryan Agni and Indra.
However, if one looks closely, the names and supposedly defining characteristics of all the Vedic
deities are quite interchangeable, to the point that they can be very indistinguishable!

Agni in the Ṛg Veda, for instance, is often given many attributes as, in the Vedic ritual
method, the Agnihotra, prayers for anything and to any deity are to be offered through the medium
of Agni, the great purifier, who alone can purify the offering so it is worthy of conveying to the
deity. Take the case of the one-verse Sūkta RV 1.99, whose composition is attributed to that
seniormost of Rishis, Kashyapa. Implicitly accepting the outcomes of karma, this hymn is an
invocation to Agni, who knows the beseecher’s actions in past births (Jātavedā), to ‘burn away the
knowledge’ of hostile deeds towards others in previous births, that is impelling them to harm the
beseecher now. However, if one looks closely, this is merely the first line of what we know as the
Durga Sūkta. In this verse and in the subsequent ones in the expanded version that occurs in the
Yajur Veda, it is impossible to distinguish between Agni and Durga. Again, prayers for granting
prosperity and material well-being / knowledge (the word used is Dakśiṇa, which has been
interpreted to mean both) are made to Hotra (RV 3.62.3), generally taken to be the consort of Agni
as symbolised by the word, Agnihotra. In Hindu thought, both wealth and knowledge have
conventionally been associated with female aspects of the Godhead, but one is surprised to find this
function attributed to Agni / Hotra rather than Saraswati, who is an obviously popular deity in the
Ṛg Veda.

Similar is the case with Manyu. In a Sūkta devoted to Indra, he (Indra) is described as
Manyumindra (RV 4.17.10) when his ferocity as a warrior is being described. But there is an entire
Manyu Sūkta (the collective name traditionally given to RV 10.83 and 84), composed by a Rishi
named after this deity (Manyu Tapasa), wherein Manyu, “the great destroyer of foes”, is extolled as
having verily been Indra, Hota (Agni), Varuṇa and Jātavedā (RV 10.83.2). Manyu is described as
the wielder of the Vajra (RV 10.83.1 and 6) and destroyer of Vritra (RV 10.83.3) – both being
attributes usually identified with Indra as mentioned many times (for example, RV 1.32; 1.52.4 and
6; 6.47.2 and 6). One is left wondering if Manyu then is a clearly delineated deity with his own
signature characteristics, or is merely referring to an aspect of God – in this case, overwhelmingly
powerful. Unsurprisingly, the Manyu Sūkta is traditionally used in the Abhiṣeka of Rudra (i.e., the
very commonly performed ritual, Rudrābhiṣeka; the very second word of Śatarudrīya is
Rudramanyu), Narasimha and Hanuman. Indeed, this question could be asked of every name such
as Agni, Indra, Rudra or Varuṇa as used in the Vedas, when they are quite transferable. Even
Saraswati is described (RV 6.61) as a powerful slayer of foes including, specifically, Vritra (6.61.7)!
For this reason too, the number of hymns specifically addressed to a deity may not give us an idea
of their importance, considering that the Vedas make it amply clear that deity names and functions
are interchangeable.

Also, what are we to make of more complex deities like Indrāgni (6.60), Indrāvaruṇa
(3.62.1-3; 6.68), Indravāyu (4.46), Indrābṛhaspati (4.49), Indrāviṣṇu (6.69), Dyāvāpṛthivī (or Dyaus
and Pṛthivī, 6.70), Indrāsoma (6.72), Somārudra (6.74)? And, lest you think they are merely the
names of two or more deities invoked together in the same Mantra, it is worth pointing out that the
god, Mitrāvaruṇa (3.62.16, 6,67) is believed to be the father of the sage Vasiṣṭha (whose
patronymic, hence, is Maitrāvaruṇī). It is merely this essential – and, dare I say, obvious – unity that
RV 1.164.46 re-emphasises: “Indra, Mitra, Varuṇa, Agni, the winged Garutman (yes, you read that
right again!), Yama, Mātarisvan and the like are but various names sages use for the One (Ekam sat
viprā bahudha vadantī).”
The logical conclusion, then, would be that ‘scholars’ are perhaps oversimplifying Vedic
deities. In looking at them through the prism of Puraṇic deities, they are contriving to delineate
distinct personalities with exclusive attributes, although this is probably not how the Vedas describe
their deities. On this fundamental point, I am afraid, flounder attempts by various scholars and
academics to try to trace the supposed ‘evolution’ from the Vedic Rudra to the ‘present-day’ Śiva –
or, indeed, of any deity or cult, or theories that some deities rose at the expense of others.

The Ṛg Veda Saṃhita versus the ‘later’ Vedas and Purāṇas (and other texts)

In her second article, Bakshi summarises the hypothesis of Nilima Chitgopekar (whom, I
admit, I haven’t read) as, “Chitgopekar applies Darwin's theory to gods, saying those who were
most adaptable, most able to respond to contemporary concerns (like Śiva) survived while others
faded into obscurity.” Let us see how true that is.

I have mentioned three sections above that whilst already severely restricted to others, the
Vedas are taught in a graded way even to the eligible. The Ṛg is taught first, with the Yajus and
Sāma subsequently, and the Atharva being the last. Importantly, even among those who had learnt
the three Vedas, the Atharva was traditionally taught to a very select few based on the Guru's
assessment. I know of instances as late as the 1970s and '80s when Gurus in Vedic schools deemed
no-one in their “class” fit to be taught the Atharva. Even after women were permitted to study the
Vedas by Madhvācārya, traditionally the Atharva remained strictly out of bounds for them. What is
the reason for such secrecy? There are elements in the Atharva Veda – Mantras supposedly related
to black magic, wreaking harm on enemies etc. – that orthodox Hindu tradition believes should be
very restricted; crucially, many of these invoke Rudra, the controller of dark, malefic, destructive
forces. Indeed, the Mrutyunjaya Mantra (RV 7.59.12) is almost the only Vedic Rudra-mantra that
could be generally recited by anyone, and it does not even expressly mention Rudra in its body (he
is mentioned before the Sūkta as the Devata, deity, to whom the Mantra is addressed). Therefore,
the theory that the Atharva Veda represents the later consolidation of an originally non-Vedic Rudra
does not seem very convincing.

The Puraṇic landscape, it would seem, is quite different from that of the Vedas. Scholars and
academics overwhelmingly argue that the Purāṇas are the result of the tilting of the balance of
power, with old Vedic gods like Indra, Agni and Vayu losing their prominence to the likes of Vishnu
and Śiva, who originally belonged to ‘non-Aryan’ tribes and communities. It is well-known that
there are separate ritual methods based on the Vedas and the Purāṇas (Vedokta and Purāṇokta
respectively). In strict tradition, Veda Mantras could be chanted only by select people. Vedic ritual
was even more restricted. Anyone invested with the Yajñopavīta (sacred thread) was required to
perform Saṃdhyāvaṃdana three times a day. No-one who did not perform the Agnihotra daily and
keep three Agnis (ritual fires) burning continuously in his house could perform a Yajña. Such
requirements might seem inconceivable today. However, many Brahmins at least kept these
traditions alive scrupulously till just about a few decades ago. A relative of mine by marriage told
me of the very clever trick his older generation employed of using sawdust to keep the Agnis
burning. Whole families of Nambudiri Brahmins adhered to these stipulations uncompromisingly
till the 1970s in Kerala, as this video shows.
But the Indians were a very practical people, and had no illusions this was not always going
to be possible. What if one went on a journey, especially overseas? Many communities have
migrated all over the subcontinent in the past. Saraswata Brahmins can be found as far apart as
Bengal and Kerala, neither of which is their place of origin. The Vaishnavas of Assam were
originally from the Mathura region. Also, the ancient Indians were the great navigators and
merchants of the ancient world. This was the case for several millennia till about the 13 th century.
The trading ties of the Indus Valley people are very well known. Tamil traders had a thriving colony
in Quanzhou, China and had even built Hindu temples there about 800 years ago. What would such
travellers have done? What Agnihotra can one perform on the high seas? How would one adhere to
the enjoined stipulations – ablutions, for example – before performing any Vedic ritual, nay even
reciting a Veda-mantra, on a journey? One may simply not have the resources for performing a
Vedic ritual! This is where the alternative, often simplified format of Purāṇic worship comes into
the picture.
To make it easier, the Purāṇas firstly simplify the deities, and make them more delineated
and uniquely recognisable. They have distinct physical features. They wield different, characteristic
weapons – only Indra has the Vajra now. They are no longer as abstract and interchangeable as
those in the Vedas. In this process of simplification, some deities are merged together. For instance,
in the Ṛg Veda, Bhārati and Saraswati are referred to as different deities (RV 2.3.8), but in the
Purāṇas, Bhārati is subsumed into Saraswati, and is now merely one of her names; this is perfectly
natural, as she is almost always invoked with Saraswati in the Vedas. However, complete separation
among deities is impossible, given their essential unity. Which is why, for example, among the
names of Vishnu in his Sahasranāma (thousand names) one will find, Sarva Śarva Śiva Sthāṇur
Bhūtādi... Rudra, Babhru, Śarabha and many other names commonly associated with Śiva, and vice
versa.

Far from being the product of a power struggle between Aryan and any 'non-Aryan' deities,
the Purāṇas in fact preserve the Vedic pantheon in their entirety. For example, the Māruts continue
symbolically as Hanuman. No-one ever even hears any Veda-mantra to the Māruts outside the five
per cent of the population permitted to study the Vedas, but any child can be taught the Hanuman
Sloka reading, Mārutim na Matarākśasāntakam; thirty years ago, when a name had to be chosen for
a new brand of car symbolising sleekness and speed, it was Maruti. Traditionally, women are not
permitted to recite any Vedic Rudra-mantra (except the Mrutyunjaya) at all. This is probably owing
to the fact that, in the Vedas, the benign aspects of Rudra are undifferentiated from his destructive
powers, which is deemed incompatible with the gentle, creative power of a woman’s Shakti. A
female acquaintance of mine, who was initiated into the Srīvidya Upāsana by no less than the
pontiff of a major Math (religious order) in South India, does not recite the Śatarudrīya during her
Navāvaraṇa Arcana, but plays a cassette recording instead. Yet, by separating the benign aspect of
Rudra into Śiva, who hardly ever even stirs out of his meditation, the Purāṇas have given everyone
an accessible and much-loved god; the aspects connected with dark and violent forces have been
mostly moved into the highly secret Tantras and other texts, typically as the Bhairavas.

Have you ever wondered why it is that many are able to do the Satyanarayan Vrat at home at
least once annually, but hardly anyone can do the Puruṣa Sūkta Homa equally easily, although both
are addressed to the same deity? Puraṇic ritual can be extremely simple – lighting a lamp (which is
the simplification for the Agnihotra), maybe an incense stick, reading a small Sloka, offering a bit
of sugar candy as Naivedya; one could do just the first, and be done. (This is what many of us are
able to do today, I suspect.) There are hymns of various lengths and complexity to every single
deity. One could recite an ultra-short Dwādaśa-nāma Stotra (twelve names) or a Sahasra-nāma. The
descriptions of many Vratas in the Purāṇas clearly say they provide an easy ritual format that most
can perform. Puraṇic ritual is no dumbing down, however, and can also be as complex as the Vedic,
as in the Chandi Homa, in which the Durga Saptaśatī (seven-hundred verses) is chanted, punctuated
by Āhutis (offerings to the sacrificial fire) at specific points.

As I said above, the Vedas were never the religion of the man in the street, and were never
even meant to be so. Just by themselves, the Vedas make for extremely rarefied and drily
intellectual religion that can be grasped only by a microscopic minority. Commiting the Vedas to
memory, perfecting their chanting by Saṃhita-, Jaṭa- and Ghana-pāṭha, learning to sing them as
Sāma (and I strongly urge you to click on the link to get an idea of what I am trying to say),
performing Nityāgnihotra and Saṃdhyāvaṃdana without fail, learning to perform Homas and
Yajñas – one has to remember at which specific points of the Sūkta the Āhuti happens – is
extremely daunting. It is just not meant for everyone – which explains the ineluctible need for
creating a class of society dedicated purely to their study. No attempt was ever even made to make
them the everyman's religion.

That role was meant to be fulfilled by the Purāṇas and, later, the Epics and similar works. If
I may say so, the Purāṇas have been the Aam Aadmi's religion for at least as long as the Vedas have
been around. Even the Vedic Pandit must always have needed the intimate religion of the Purāṇas.
The ten year-old Brahmacāri studying the Ṛg Veda Saṃhita needs the illustration of Markandeya’s
story to appreciate the supposed power of the Mrityunjaya Mantra (RV 7.59.12). The very opening
Sūkta of the Ṛg Veda beseeches the deity to be as easy to reach as a father is to his child, and thus
protect it, and the Chāndogya Upanishad describes the omnipresence of the Ultimate Reality – God,
if you will – in wondrously suggestive language, but it requires the story of Narasimha springing
from within a randomly struck pillar to save Prahlāda to etch the idea in one’s mind. The Pitṛs
(manes) have several Sūktas devoted to them in the Ṛg Veda, whose composition is attributed to
Yama and his sons – and they were traditionally never ordinarily recited except on specified
occasions – but it is only from the story of Bhagīratha in the Bhāgavata Purāṇa and similar episodes
that one gets an idea of the nature and extent of reverence one is supposed to show them. The
stories of the Purāṇas and Epics are necessary illustrative examples to firmly seat the trademark,
central Vedic concepts of dharma, karma and the pursuit of liberation in the mind of the common
man; they provide the ethical framework that hundreds of millions who have never heard a Veda-
mantra, try to follow in their everyday lives.

The culture shift that wasn’t

Theories about the “evolution of deities” from the Vedas to the Purāṇas are a legacy of
broader endeavours to postulate a culture shift caused by the supposed expansion of the “Vedic
Indo-Aryans” into the “non-Vedic natives” of the subcontinent, which are as old as Indology itself.
The Aryan Invasion Theory itself – baseless to start with – has now been rubbished by
archaeologists. Arguments have, therefore, become subtler. Philologists now claim a very small
number of Indo-European speakers who entered the subcontinent without leaving either an
archaeological or genetic footprint, and slowly came to dominate the native majority using the ruse
of the caste system (avoiding outright violent struggle). While, as before, “mainstream” philologists
continue to treat this as gospel without any supporting evidence, archaeological evidence is clearly
mounting that probably even the “later” Vedic people seem to have been living on the subcontinent
from well before the dates estimated for the supposed arrival of these “Vedic Indo-Aryans”. A
simple example is the arbitrary dating of the Ṛg Veda to around 1500 BCE; the Yajur Veda is dated
to much later than that by interpreting the expression, kṛṣṇa ayas that occurs in the latter (but not
the Ṛg), as iron, the use of which was supposed to have started around 1000 BCE; however, we now
know that iron technology was developed indigenously on the subcontinent from at least as early as
2000 BCE, indicating several centuries of prior metallurgical experimentation; iron was probably
known to even the Harappans from 2600 BCE.

Not that this should ever have been a big deal, considering that archaeologists like Renfrew have
wondered what at all is non-Aryan about the Harappan culture, and Wheeler observed in the 1930s
that the Indus Valley religion was practically living Hinduism. Sure enough, one would instinctively
find the 3500 year-old Paśhupati seal from Mohenjodaro and pictures of Śiva today so identical, one
would think there has been no evolution at all! With such theories falling foul of hard evidence,
adherent scholars need to come up with theories of a culture-shift, if nothing else, on the
subcontinent. And the same old methods are employed here too: selective omission of evidence,
treating absence of evidence as evidence of absence, convenient misinterpretations (and, with a
language like Sanskrit, you can have a field day!) and theorising without evidence.

Consider what Bakshi quotes of Chitgokepar: “As the footprint of Aryavarta expanded, the
Vedic religion came directly into contact (hegemonically) with other cultures, which had their own
gods. These gods were not discarded or rejected, but integrated into the brahminical pantheon with
their features. As the modern states of Maharastra, Madhya Pradesh, Odisha, Andhra Pradesh and
Karnataka came into the fold, local folk deities were tagged onto Rudra and their personalities
coalesced into the deity we know as Śiva today. Khandoba, Mailara and Mallana are examples.
Mahakala was a local deity of Ujjain before he became one with Śiva.” Obviously, first is the
assumption of the Vedas as the common man’s religion. Also, the examples she uses, like
Khandoba, Mailara and Mallana, look like the reverse of what is claimed: local deities with Śiva's
attributes grafted onto them. This altogether inverts the situation – it would mean that traditional
Hinduism was voluntarily accepted by communities that originally lay outside its fold, similar to
what happened in South-East Asia from the 7th century onward. There would simply have been no
need for the “Vedic people” to interpolate deities and cults from other communities into their own
religion. Also, what evidence do we have to show that Mahakala was a local deity of Ujjain? And
why specifically Ujjain, when, in fact, the Kāla form of Śiva is supposed to be the lord of Kashi
too? (Remember Adi Saṃkara's Kālabhairavāṣṭakam – “Kāśikā purādhinātha Kāla-bhairavam
bhaje”?)

She also says, “Some new aspects that were added to Rudra came naturally to him. For
instance asceticism. Rudra/Śarva, the hunter, lived in the forest, rejected the Vedic sacrifice and way
of life. He is the god mentioned in the Keśi-Sūkta (RV 10.136) which enunciates the earliest
expression of heterodox, mendicant ways.” Really? Let us look at another Sūkta in the Tenth
Maṇḍala of the Ṛg Veda. Although parts of this Maṇḍala are supposed to be much later than the
older “family Maṇḍalas” (2-7), so called as they were each written by families of Rishis, this Sūkta
itself should be as old for the very same reason – it was composed by a son of Angiras, whose other
sons are credited with many hymns devoted to Indra and Agni (and thus, represent supposedly
pristine Vedic religion), and whose grandson, the great Bharadvāja and his descendants are credited
with most of the Sixth Maṇḍala; Interestingly, the deity of this Sūkta is Dhana-anna-dānam. Charity
is at par with offerings to the gods! Those that give not are called worthless even if they are wealthy
(RV 10.117). More curiously, the name of the composer of this Sūkta is Bhikśu (which literally
means “mendicant”). Now, names of Śiva like Bikshanna, Bhikshapati (“lord of mendicants”),
Pichumani (“ornament among mendicants”) etc. are common names, at least in South India. So was
this Rishi too named after a very “Puranic” aspect of Śiva? I leave that to your judgement.