On February 2, the Supreme Court said a Constitutional bench will decide on all matters related to Jallikattu and whether Tamil Nadu and Maharashtra can conserve Jallikattu and bullock cart races as their cultural right.
For four-year-old Ajith, this would mean whether or not he could play his favourite sport anymore.
Ever since he was a small bull calf, his life revolved around sweaty and muddy practice sessions and performances at the rudimentary stadium at Alanganallur, a small village in Madurai—famous for hosting the Jallikattu celebrations every year. Jallikattu is the bull taming sport played in Tamil Nadu every year in January as part of the Pongal harvest festival.
But Ajith is blissfully unaware of the serious concerns surrounding his favourite sport. Miles away, in the apex court in the National Capital, several serious looking men in black coats have been debating for over a year whether Ajith can play the sport or not under the state laws that promise to preserve the cultural heritage of the state. Or does it, as argued by the People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA), amount to violating the Constitution of India.
On February 2 this year, the Supreme Court referred the matters related to Jallikattu to be adjudicated on by the Constitutional bench. “We have formulated five questions for the Constitution bench,'' Justice R.F. Nariman said while pronouncing the order. The issue being examined is whether states have the legislative competence to make laws, after the SC dismissed their plea and banned the use of bulls for Jallikattu. PETA, the animal rights body, has claimed that Jallikattu is a 'blood sport' in which bulls are subjected to cruelty.
But Muthupandi, a bull owner, has a different take on it. “The real pooja during our harvest festival happens when one drop of blood is shed during Jallikattu. If that happens, there will be no drought and no sickness and Kali amman (goddess) will shower rain on us,” he says. It isn't known, but this belief was mystically reinforced last year in January. There were mass protests, violence and chaos as protestors took to streets, seeking the reversal of the 2014 Supreme Court ban on the controversial sport. The protests had gripped all major towns and cities across Tamil Nadu, forcing the police to lob tear gas shells to disperse angry mobs. Finally on January 21, the state government cleared an ordinance, permitting Jallikattu. There were mass celebrations and much more.
“The day the ordinance was promulgated in Tamil Nadu, it rained in Alanganallur,'' Muthupandi revealed smilingly, summing up the mystical attachment the people had with the sport.
Bull owners in this part of the country have been experiencing mixed feelings of joy and anxiousness, ever since the animal rights bodies took the matter to court.
Govind Raj, who has brought up Ajith like his own son, says he has to wait for an entire year to hug him. On a regular day, the bull owner would not hug his bull.
“Jallikattu is not about bull taming. It is a time when we embrace and hug the bull. The real meaning of the sport is bull hugging, not bull taming as you call it. I can only hug my bull during the Jallikattu. So, the festival gives us a chance to embrace our bulls,'' he says.
Raj says Ajith is a member of his family and he named the bull after famous Tamil movie star Ajith. ''In fact, I have also been demanding that Ajith's name should be included in my ration card. After all, he is a family member,”says Raj.
Last year, Raj could not hug his bull and he was in despair. But this year brought him a lot of joy as Jallikattu went off peacefully in Alangnallur and other parts of Tamil Nadu.
However, both Raj and Ajith are staring at an uncertain future with the matter still under legal scrutiny.
Tied between two coconut trees in an open field, Ajith and a number of other bulls are reared specially for the sport. Throughout the year, they practice in these makeshift Vadi Vasals (mini gates from where the bulls are released during the Jallikattu sport) in the sprawling green fields across Madurai.
Oblivious to the legal and political turns the Jallikattu protests have taken over the past few years, Ajith has continued with his practice session.
“These bulls are reared specially for Jallikattu and not used for agricultural purposes. They will get tired if we use them for farming. They are practicing at all times and playing only sometimes,” explains Thangapandi, another bull owner who has five bulls and is in the process of purchasing a sixth one.
Thangapandi's family has been a keen participant in sports like Jallikattu, cock fighting and goat fighting for generations together.
While the latter two sports cost him anywhere between Rs 4000 to Rs 40,000, much more is at stake when it comes to Jallikattu bulls. “The rates of bulls have gone up after Jallikattu was embroiled in controversy. One bull costs me Rs 2 lakh,” he says.
When the protests hit the streets last year, the state administration decided to count the Jallikattu bulls in Alanganallur. According to the list with the local police, there were 226 Jallikattu bulls in the village and the cops began to keep a close watch on each one of them. The local inspector used to visit them every now and then.
The reason was that some disgruntled people with passions running high had cut off the mookana kayiru (nose knot) which is used to tie the bulls, and the bulls ran amok injuring a few locals. This nose knot is supposed to be cut only during Jallikattu.
“We had to take these bulls to the police station and some preventive detentions were made. We are aware of the sentiments of the people, but we had to enforce the law. But when the ban was lifted, we also lifted all the restrictions,” the then Madurai superintendent of police Vijayendra S. Bidari told The Week. During his stint as the SP of Madurai, Bidari had been holding peace meetings with locals to keep tempers down especially in prominent villages like Alangnallur, Palamedu and Avaniyapuram which host Jallikattu.
In 2017, a lot of zing was lost in the delayed celebrations after the police cited intelligence reports saying the banned CPI(Maoist) had infiltrated the Jallikattu protests in the state. One such intelligence report had said, “Members of left wing extremist organisations and their front organisations have infiltrated among the students who are agitating against the ban on Jallikattu. They are taking the lead and raising slogans against the Central and state governments.”
More intelligence inputs followed which said, ''the cultural troupe of the CPI(Maoist) are participating in the students agitations in Madurai district and Madurai city in the guise of supporting the student agitation. Members of the cover organisations of CPI(Maoist) may take this opportunity to propagate their ideologies and promote anti-national sentiments. They may also identify the prospective students for recruiting in their organisation.''
But for bulls like Ajith, Arun, Kadaruvai (torn ear) and others and their enthusiastic tamers like Govind Raj and his friends Mallathu Nagaraj and Veeran, their struggle for Jallikattu's revival has nothing to do with either the law or the policing.
They say they continue to play the sport for the love and passion for the game and its mystical traditions.
Thirty-two-year-old Veeran, who has has been participated in Jallikattu since he was 20, says after the state government and animal rights activists had started interfering in the sport, the local committee has taken a number of steps to address their concerns.
“Now we get each bull checked to see if it has not been intoxicated. Local veterinary doctors will be stationed nearby when the sport takes place. The weight and height of each bull is examined. Even the bulls' horns are blunted to ensure they are not very sharp,” he explains.
Veeran's actor friend Mallathu Nagaraj says he has become a local hero after he played the role of a Jallikattu fighter in Kamal Haasan's film Virumandi .
“I can tell you very frankly that I don't participate in Jallikattu for the prize money or the gift. I have won several of them, from a fridge to a scooter. It is the audience that matters,” Nagaraj declares proudly, showing the wounds all over his body, including a visible mark on his face. The locals in Alanganallur are very fond of this 38-year-old class IX student who sells water cans in the small village round the year.
“Every year I fail in English by three-four marks. But none can defeat me in Jallikattu. The entire village knows that,” he says.
