Archives: history

Back to Home

Beyond the Banyan Tree: 5 Untold Traditions of the Guru-Shishya Parampara

By Shree Sauparnika V. 

When we think of the Guru-Shishya Parampara, our minds usually paint a very specific picture: a wise sage with a long white beard, sitting under a massive banyan tree, while students sit in a neat circle memorising verses. But that is only one small chapter of a much grander story. 

In ancient and medieval India, education was never a one-size-fits-all product. Because different fields required completely different mindsets, India developed entirely unique models of mentorship. From top-secret warrior guilds to mathematical vocal codes and tactile artisan workshops, the way wisdom was passed down depended entirely on what was being taught. 

 

This Guru Purnima, let us explore the five fascinating ‘clans’ of master-disciple lineages that shaped our history, culture, and science.

1. The Music Families (Gharanas)

Imagine an education system where you do not just attend a class—you legally and spiritually join your teacher’s family. This is the foundation of India’s performing arts lineages, famously known as the Gharana system (from the word ghar, meaning home). 

In classical music and dance, knowledge was not written down on sheet music. It had to be caught live from the teacher’s breath, posture, and voice. To protect their unique musical styles, masters formed distinct ‘houses’ or Gharanas (such as the Gwalior or Maihar gharanas). Each house has its own secret techniques and signature musical phrases that make them instantly recognisable on stage. 

Art: Durgesh Velhal

To seal this lifelong bond of artistic loyalty, a formal thread-tying ceremony called Ganda Bandhan is performed. The relationship was so intense that masters historically prioritised their top disciples over their own biological children to ensure that the purity of their art survived.

2. The Human Audio Recorders (Vedic Lineages)

Long before digital hard drives were invented, how did India ensure that thousands of pages of complex Vedic texts survived for millennia without a single word changing? They turned the human voice into a hyper-precise operating system. 

In these Vedic lineages, the exact pitch, accent, and vibration of every single syllable matters. To prevent human error, these lineages invented intricate mathematical recitation codes called Pathas. 

Art: Dilip Kadam

Instead of just reading a line straight, students learn it in complex geometric patterns. In Jata-patha, words are recited forward and backward in pairs (1-2, 2-1, 1-2). In the incredibly complex Ghana-patha, the pattern becomes a more dense matrix. If a student alters even a fraction of a tone, the pattern collapses. This rigorous vocal encryption created the longest-running, unbroken audio recording in human history.

3. The Art and Craft Guilds (Shilpa Lineages)

What if your school textbook wasn’t made of paper, but of raw clay, molten metal, or solid granite? This is the world of India’s traditional craft communities, guided for centuries by the Shilpa Shastras (ancient manuals of engineering and design) and organized into powerful Shrenis (artisan guilds). 

Whether it is the metal-casters of Bastar or the idol-carvers of Mahabalipuram, knowledge transfer here is built entirely on tactile intelligence—the wisdom stored directly in the muscles and the fingertips. 

In a traditional workshop, a master craftsman (Sthapati) rarely gives formal lectures. A young apprentice begins by simply doing chores—sweeping stone dust, mixing clay, or stoking the furnace. For the first few years, they simply absorb the rhythm of the work through their eyes, ears, and hands before ever touching a master tool. 

These communities also developed localised measurement systems based on the proportions of the human body, such as Tala (the length of a palm) or Angula (the width of a finger). A student learns to judge flawless geometric proportions purely by touch, sight, and intuition.

4. The Warrior Brotherhoods (Martial Akharas)

When the knowledge being passed down determines whether you live or die on a battlefield, the master-disciple dynamic shifts from peaceful contemplation to high-stakes survival. This is the world of the Akharas and martial lineages like Kalaripayattu in Kerala. 

Here, the Guru (often called the Gurukkal or Aashaan) builds an absolute brotherhood. The disciples live, train, cook, and heal together. Imagine training with live, razor-sharp swords swinging inches from your face—you have to trust your teacher and your peers with your life. 

Art: Dilip Kadam

In martial lineages, physical training is actually the easy part. The real test is temperament. A martial Guru will deliberately withhold advanced, lethal combat techniques until they are absolutely certain of the student’s emotional maturity. The ultimate goal is not to create a weapon, but a protector who possesses the restraint to never strike out of anger.

5. The Silent Teachers (Spiritual Lineages)

Our modern world believes that learning requires talking, reading, and taking notes. But India’s spiritual and esoteric traditions feature a lineage that completely turns this idea upside down: transmission through absolute silence. 

In the Shaktipat tradition, deep wisdom is not treated as information to be studied, but as a state of consciousness to be ignited. Think of it like using a lit candle to light an unlit one. The flame is passed over instantly, without changing the original light. 

Art: Dilip Kadam

The Guru passes their spiritual realisation directly to the disciple. This can happen through a sacred spoken word (Vachik), a physical touch (Sparsha), or in its rarest form, a direct, silent gaze (Drishti). It suggests that the highest form of teaching is not about filling an empty bucket with facts, but waking up a dormant energy that was inside the student all along. 

The Takeaway for Today 

Whether it is the discipline of the martial Akhara, the mathematical precision of the Vedic chant, the deep emotional bond of the Gharana, the tactile wisdom of the artisan guild, or the quiet focus of the silent lineages, the Guru-Shishya Parampara was never static. It was an incredibly fluid, adaptive network designed to keep the soul of a civilisation alive. 

In a digital age where we are drowning in information, these five lineages remind us of a timeless truth: true mastery has always required human connection. 

Read more stories on Indian History, Mythology and Culture on our very own ACK Comics App.

 

 

The Dree Festival: Harvests of the Apatani Tribe

by Keya Gupta

High up in the Ziro Valley of Arunachal Pradesh, the Apatani tribe has spent generations cultivating paddy in the mountains. Every July, before the paddy has fully ripened, the Apatanis pause their labour to celebrate Dree, a festival that asks the gods to keep pests, disease and hunger away from their fields and homes. 

The legend of the Dree Festival starts with Abotani, the mythical first ancestor of the Apatani tribe. When Abotani and his people first began cultivating the fertile land of Ipyo Supun, their fields were overrun by insects and pests. On the advice of his elders, Abotani chose two priests, Changu Mitu and Dogu Miser, to perform the Dree rites and call upon the gods for help. 

The priests first appealed to Diirii Paro and Yarii Aki, spirits invoked to devour the pests plaguing the fields. Between them, they cleared out a great many insects, but some had already burrowed underground, out of reach. So, the priests turned to the Sky God, Yapung Uyi, asking for rain to flush the rest out into the open. When even that was not enough, they finally called upon the gid, Tamu, who rid the fields of every last pest.  

That year, the paddy grew tall and healthy, and the harvest was bountiful. Grateful and relieved, Abotani vowed that he and his descendants would perform these rites every year so that his people would never again face such scarcity. That promise continues as the Apatanis observe the Dree festival to this day. 

Over time, the single rite grew into four, each addressing a different threat to survival. The Apatanis pray to Tamu to ward off insects and pests, to Metii who guards against epidemics and illness, and to Meder who purifies the fields of anything inauspicious.  Mepin is invoked to bless the crops and ensure the wellbeing of the people. In 1967, when the festival was reorganised, Danyi, the sun-and-moon deity central to Apatani faith, was added as a fifth God invoked for fertile soil, healthy livestock and general prosperity. 

Art: Arya Patke

For most of its history, the Dree Festival was celebrated separately by each Apatani village, on whatever date suited its priests and elders. That changed in 1967, when a group of Apatani students felt their community needed one festival that everybody could celebrate together. The festival was chosen to be observed centrally, with 5th July fixed as the main day of celebration. Village-level rituals are still conducted the evening before and priests from every village then bring their offerings together at the shared festival ground of Nenchalya, near the town of Old Ziro. 

On the appointed day, priests and their assistants dress as warriors and sit atop the lapang, a raised wooden platform, reciting the Dree Barnii, which are incantations that can last an entire day. Once the chanting is done, they carry the sacrificial fowls, eggs and animals, along with a ceremonial bamboo structure called the yuygyang, to a sacrificial ground usually located near a river, where the offerings are made to the gods. 

The festival’s warmth lies in its community rituals as much as its sacred ones. Every household brews rice beer for the occasion, and women fill vessels of it for their elder brothers, sisters and sons-in-law as a gesture of love, receiving roasted mithun meat or bacon in return. Cucumber and yatang, a rice pudding steamed in bamboo, are shared among everyone present. Running through the celebrations is the Daminda, a folk dance and song performed by Apatani women in traditional white and red attire, who move together in long, linked lines. Its verses welcome the gods to the festival, recount the history and geography of the Apatani people, and even retell the love stories of ancestors. 

Art: Srinath Malolan M.

Alongside the dancing, the festival also makes room for play and skill: young men compete in iisan, a traditional high jump, and giibii, a form of wrestling, while the elders showcase their knowledge through competitions. After the festivities, the community observes a taboo period of several days, during which fieldwork, and even the gathering of firewood or vegetables, is avoided, a pause that is believed to protect the success of the rituals just performed. 

Nearly six decades after it became a shared celebration, the Dree Festival remains rooted in the same hope that first sent Abotani’s priests into the fields: that with the blessings of the gods, the harvest will be plentiful, and the community will be safe.

Read more stories on Indian Mythology, Folklore and Culture at our very own ACK Comics App. 

Kabir: The Poet Who Belonged to Everyone

Keya Gupta

Kabir was a 15th-century mystic poet and saint whose two-line verses, called dohas, have been remembered and recited across India for over five hundred years. He was highly revered by Hindus, Muslims, and Sikhs alike, cherished in the traditions of all three religions. His birth anniversary, or Kabir Jayanti, is celebrated on the full moon day of the Hindu month of Jyeshtha. It falls on 29th June this year. Every year his devotees mark the occasion with bhajan gatherings, kirtans, poetry readings, and spiritual discourses, especially in states like Uttar Pradesh, Maharashtra, Madhya Pradesh, and Gujarat. The most elaborate celebrations take place in Varanasi, his birthplace, where religious sermons are held at Kabirchaura Mutt. 

Art: Pratap Mulick

The details of Kabir’s birth remain uncertain, and researchers can only provide a broad time period for it, roughly between 1440 and 1518 CE. He was born in Varanasi, and according to one of the most popular legends surrounding his birth, he was raised by a couple of Muslim weavers named Niru and Nima, who found him as an infant near a pond called Lahar Tara and adopted him.  

Kabir was a poet of the masses, composing in the accessible, everyday languages of the region such as Awadhi, Braj, and Bhojpuri. Varanasi was a centre of religious life in the subcontinent, home to Hindu sadhus, Islamic sufis, Buddhists, Jains and others, each of whom had set up their own mosques, monasteries, and temples in the city. Growing up amidst all of this, Kabir came to be associated with both the Vaishnava tradition of Hinduism and the Sufi tradition of Islam. Soon, he found out about Ramananda, a prominent saint of the Bhakti movement, known for welcoming disciples across caste lines. It was through him that Kabir found his spiritual footing. Ramananda taught that God was inside every person and everything — a belief that Kabir would carry through his entire life and work. 

Art: Umesh Burande

Although Kabir is often depicted as a harmoniser of Hindu and Muslim belief, it would be accurate to say he was equally critical of both. He had little patience for priests who recited scripture without understanding it, for pilgrims bathing in the Ganga without changing how they lived, or for those performing religious rituals as a matter of habit rather than genuine feeling. He dismissed pilgrimages, idol worship, and the authority of scriptures like the Vedas and the Quran when these became substitutes for genuine inner devotion, arguing that the path to God lay through direct personal experience, not through intermediaries or ceremony. He also pushed back openly against caste, insisting that birth into a particular community said nothing about a person’s worth or spiritual standing. 

One of his most quoted dohas captures this: 

जाति न पूछो साधु की, पूछ लीजिए ज्ञान।  

मोल करो तरवार का, पड़ा रहन दो म्यान।। 

Do not ask the caste of a saint; seek their wisdom.  

Value the sword, let the sheath lie where it is. 

In his final days, Kabir made one last point. People at the time believed that dying in Kashi guaranteed heaven, while dying in Maghar, a small town in Uttar Pradesh, meant condemnation. To challenge this superstition, Kabir chose to go to Maghar, and died there in 1518. After his death, his Hindu and Muslim followers disputed what to do with his body. The Hindus wished to cremate him, while Muslims wished to bury him. Legend has it that when they lifted the cloth covering him, they found only flowers in his place. The two communities divided the flowers and carried out the last rites according to their own customs. Today, his samadhi (memorial, associated with Hinduism/Buddhism) and mazaar (tomb, associated with Islam) stand side by side.

Art: Umesh Burande

Even in his final moments, Kabir resisted the idea that people could only belong to one religion. On Kabir Jayanti, his dohas remind us that the questions he raised; about faith, identity, and how we treat one another, are ones that remain timeless. 

Read more stories on Indian Mythology, History and Culture on our very own ACK Comics App.

São João: Goa’s Monsoon Festival of Joy

by Shree Sauparnika V. 

As the first monsoon rains sweep across Goa, its landscape undergoes a dramatic transformation. Dry fields turn a lush green, rivers swell, and the scent of wet earth fills the air. It is against this vibrant backdrop that Goa celebrates São João, one of its most distinctive and high-spirited festivals. Observed annually on June 24, this celebration was introduced during the Portuguese era and has since evolved into a beautiful blend of Catholic tradition, local folklore, and a deep reverence for nature. 

Honouring Saint John the Baptist 

Dedicated to Saint John the Baptist, the festival’s core theme is joy. According to Christian tradition, John leapt with happiness in his mother’s womb upon learning of the upcoming birth of Jesus Christ. This spirit of profound gladness defines the modern festivities. The day begins with morning church services and prayers, which quickly transition into lively village processions filled with music, singing, and traditional Konkani chants. 

The Monsoon Connection 

Sao Joao is deeply intertwined with the agricultural calendar, occurring at a time when the monsoon is essential for replenishing water sources and preparing the land for cultivation. For generations, Goans have welcomed these rains as a symbol of renewal, prosperity, and abundance. Consequently, the festival serves a dual purpose: it is both a solemn religious observance and a secular celebration of the seasonal rains that sustain the region’s farms and communities. 

Illustration: Mourusi Datta
The Colourful Kopel 

One of the most recognisable symbols of the festival is the kopel—a beautiful crown, intricately woven from fresh flowers, leaves, and seasonal fruits. Participants wear these vibrant headpieces throughout the day, transforming streets and villages into a sea of colour. Crafted from locally available plants, the kopel serves as a wearable tribute to the earth’s fertility and the raw beauty of the Goan monsoon. 

A Leap into Tradition 

The most famous custom of São João is the exhilarating practice of jumping into wells, ponds, and streams. Revelers move through the villages in groups, accompanied by the beats of the ghumot (a traditional earthen drum) and cymbals. As they leap into the water to symbolize the joy of Saint John, the air fills with the thunderous, collective chant of “São João! Viva São João!” (“Long live Saint John!”) Historically, this splashing act also celebrated the replenishment of vital drinking water sources after the scorching summer months. Today, this tradition is further enlivened by floating pageants of decorated boats, pool parties, and lakeside cultural programmes. 

Illustration: Mourusi Datta
São João Today 

While rooted in Christian history, São João transcends religious boundaries to unite people of all backgrounds across Goa. It brings together families, friends, and neighbours in a shared expression of local pride. Through its infectious music, unique water rituals, and striking floral crowns, Sao Joao remains a timeless tribute to Goa’s rich cultural heritage and its enduring bond with the monsoon season. 

Read more about Indian Mythology, Culture and History at our very own ACK Comics App. 

 

Sacred Trees: How India Honours Its Forests

by Keya Gupta

Every year on 5th June, the world pauses to mark World Environment Day, a reminder to look closely at the natural world and our place within it. Across India, many communities have long practised their own forms of environmental ethics through festivals, rituals and everyday traditions that treat trees, groves and landscapes not as resources alone, but as living presences worthy of reverence. Many of these traditions still survive, especially among India’s tribal and forest communities. This World Environment Day, here are a few of the ways in which the trees and forests of India are honoured, protected, and even worshipped. 

Worshipping the Sal Tree: Sarhul Festival 

In the region of Jharkhand and surrounding areas, spring arrives with Sarhul, a festival whose name means “worship of the tree”. It is celebrated by several tribes, like Oraon, Munda, Ho and Santhal. The festival falls in the month of Chaitra, just as the sal tree bursts into flower. 

All the rituals are performed under a sal tree in a sacred grove called the sarna sthal. The sal is believed to be the dwelling place of Sarna, the village goddess who shields the community from disaster, which is why a grove is not considered sacred unless a sal grows close by. Sarhul also marks the tribal new year and the beginning of the farming season, a reminder that the year cannot begin until the trees have first been honoured. The emphasis on tree worship is especially significant because it reflects a worldview in which we begin the year by acknowledging our dependence on nature. 

Karam: A Branch in the Courtyard 

As the monsoon eases into the harvest months, the tribes of Odisha gather to celebrate the Karam festival. It is observed by communities such as the Kisan, Bhumij, Ho, Binjhal, Bhuiyan and Oraon. At its heart stands the karam tree, which represents Karam Devta, the deity of youth, strength, and vitality. On the day of the festival, villagers go into the forest with drummers, worship a branch of the karam tree, and carry it back to plant in the courtyard, dancing and singing around it through the night. 

Art: Durgesh Velhal and Perisamy Samikannu

Passed down with the festive traditions, an old story tells the tale of seven brothers who once neglected the karam tree and fell on hard times, until they returned to honour it and their fortunes were restored. The tale carries the festival’s simplest lesson: to be grateful to the trees that sustain the harvest. 

The Khejri Tree: Pillar of the Desert 

There may not be a single major festival built entirely around the Khejri tree, but the tree occupies a deeply honoured place in the Thar region’s religious imagination, social life and desert ecology. It survives scorching heat and droughts, holds the soil together, and feeds livestock with its leaves. The khejri is the state tree of Rajasthan, and is often called the kalpavriksha, or wish-fulfilling tree, of the desert. 

Art: Dilip Kadam

Its green twigs are worshipped on Janmashtami, and it features in our epics too — Rama is said to have prayed to the khejri before going to war, and the Pandavas are believed to have hidden their weapons in its branches during their years of exile. It is revered by the Bishnoi community and protected in traditional oran (sacred groves) and gochar (pastoral) lands. 

This devotion is most evident in the Bishnoi community in Rajasthan. In 1730, the Maharaja of Jodhpur sent men to cut khejri trees near the village of Khejarli for wood to build a palace. A Bishnoi woman named Amrita Devi wrapped her arms around a tree and refused to let go, declaring that her life was less precious than the tree’s. Angered by the rebuke, the tree loggers beheaded her. By the end, 363 Bishnois had died. The incident is remembered today as one of the earliest environmental movements in India and is said to have inspired the Chipko movement nearly two and a half centuries later. 

Kerala’s Kavu Traditions 

In Kerala, sacred forest groves known as Kavu preserve clusters of trees as ritual spaces linked to deities, local worship and long-standing community traditions. Worship is centred around serpent deities, goddesses, or ancestral spirits, and the rituals usually include offerings, prayers, and strict taboos against cutting trees, disturbing the soil, or harming the animals that live there. These groves often include ponds and shelter birds, reptiles and other small animals, making them not only sacred sites but also functioning ecological habitats. 

The rituals associated with Kavu, including serpent worship and other local observances, helped create cultural restrictions against cutting trees or disturbing the grove. Even as urbanisation has fragmented many groves, they are still recognised as biodiversity hotspots and living examples of how faith can safeguard ecosystems while sustaining cultural memory. 

Spread across forests, deserts and hills, these traditions speak the same language. A sal in a Jharkhand grove, a karam branch in an Odisha courtyard, a khejri standing alone in the Thar, a Kavu grove in Kerala, all carry the same idea, that the natural world is a companion to live alongside with gratitude, rather than a resource to use and forget. Long before World Environment Day asked us to protect the planet, these communities had already made that protection a part of their faith.

Read more stories on Indian History, Mythology and Culture on our very own ACK Comics App. 

Choosing Goa: How Goans Protected Their Identity

by Nidhi Murthi

In January 1967, Goans stood in long lines, waiting to cast a vote that would change their future. It was the moment when the people of Goa were given the choice to either merge with Maharashtra or remain a Union Territory. Their choice eventually led to Goa being vested with full Statehood. Decades later, that moment is remembered with pride every year on Goa Statehood Day, celebrated on 30th May. 

To understand why this opinion poll mattered, we should look back at Goa’s colonial history and the long journey that led to statehood. 

Operation Vijay – The Liberation of Goa 

In 1510, Portuguese Admiral Afonso de Albuquerque captured Goa from Yusuf Adil Shah, the Sultan of Bijapur, thus beginning Portuguese rule in Goa. From then on, Portuguese was imposed while Konkani, the native language, was discouraged for official use. This deeply distressed the Goans. They were forced to adopt Portuguese culture and identity against their will. Over time, Goans resented the censorship and lived in fear. They faced harsh consequences that included police crackdowns due to their resistance. 

Even after Indian Independence in 1947, the Portuguese refused to give up their colonies (Goa, Daman, Diu). So, the people protested more than ever along with leaders like Dr Ram Manohar Lohia and T.B. Cunha. They participated in the Satyagraha movement, and the Konkani language was revived. Many suffered and risked imprisonment by hoisting the Indian flag and distributing secret pamphlets to spread the movement. In 1961, the Indian government finally decided to take military action. The Indian Armed Forces launched ‘Operation Vijay’, which successfully liberated Goa, Daman, and Diu, with minimal casualties, in just 36 hours. In a poignant irony, the Indian Navy sank the Portuguese warship, NRP Afonso de Albuquerque, putting an end to colonial rule. With the local population’s support, Goa, Daman, and Diu were integrated into India as a Union Territory. 

Art: Angshita Ganguly
The Battle of the Flower and the Two Leaves  

Though freed in 1961, the future of Goa and its people remained uncertain. While some assumed that Goa would merge with Maharashtra, the majority of the Goans feared that Konkani and their distinct lifestyle — a unique blend of Indo-Portuguese traditions that are seen in their vibrant festivals like Shigmo, their soulful Fado and Mando music and their cuisine — would slowly die after the merger. Hence, the Indian government took a historic step on 16 January 1967.  

Art: Angsita Ganguly

Goa held the first and only Opinion Poll (a referendum) in the history of independent India. The simple symbols on the ballot represented the choice. The ‘Flower’ for those who wanted to merge with Maharashtra and the ‘Two Leaves’ for those who wanted Goa to remain a separate Union Territory and preserve their unique language and culture. When the votes were counted, the ‘Two Leaves’ won by a margin of over 34,000 votes, much to the people’s delight and Goa continued to remain a Union Territory with Daman and Diu.  

The Final Road to Statehood 

The Opinion Poll ensured that Goa would not be merged with its neighbour. But as years passed, the Goans were disappointed that Konkani still lacked official recognition from the Indian government. For the next two decades, the desire for statehood and Konkani’s recognition as the official language of the territory grew. These desires were supported by prominent figures, most notably Luizinho Faleiro, who tabled resolutions in the State Assembly in 1980 and 1983 demanding ‘official language’ status for Konkani and statehood for Goa. The turning point came in the mid-1980s, when the Konkani Porjecho Avaz (Voice of the Konkani People) Movement began. The movement grew stronger with each protest as students marched through the streets, slogans for Konkani echoing across Panaji. In response to these demands, the ‘Official Language Act’ was finally passed by the Goa, Daman and Diu Legislative Assembly on 4th February 1987, making Konkani the official language of the territory. On 30th May 1987, Goa was granted statehood and became the 25th State of India. Daman and Diu remained a Union Territory. Goans celebrated as it was the result of their decades-long struggle to ensure that the ‘Goan identity’ would be preserved forever.  

Goa Today  

Today, Goa’s unique heritage and culture is not only protected but also actively celebrated through its festivals, music, dance, and dishes. During Statehood Day celebrations, people enjoy parades, cultural performances, and official ceremonies across the state.

On such occasions, the stories of the 1967 Opinion Poll are passed down to the younger generations. They are reminded that the power of their democratic choice and the need to preserve their centuries-old way of life are the main foundations of Goa’s identity and its future. 

Read more stories on Indian History, Mythology and Folklore on our very own ACK Comics App.

When Animals Speak: Why Jataka Tales Still Matter Today

by Shree Sauparnika V. 

On Buddha Purnima, we celebrate the three most significant events in the life of Gautama Buddha: his birth, enlightenment (Nirvana) and passing (Parinirvana or complete enlightenment). His journey toward truth did not begin in a single lifetime. It is chronicled through the Jataka Tales, a vast collection of over 500 stories detailing the Buddha’s previous births. 

In these stories, the Buddha is not always a prince or a teacher. Often, he is an animal — a deer, a monkey, an elephant, or even a bird — learning important lessons that shape his path towards enlightenment. These tales quietly remind us that humans are only one part of a much larger living world. 

Art: Jeffrey Fowler

Ancient Roots and Art 

Composed as early as the 4th century BCE and preserved in the Pali Canon, these stories emerged from a rich tradition of Indian folklore and fables. Before they were ever committed to parchment, Buddhist monks used these oral narratives to bridge the gap between complex philosophy and everyday life. The enduring popularity of these tales is etched into history; vivid scenes are still seen on the ancient stone carvings of the Bharhut and Sanchi Stupas (Madhya Pradesh). 

Mirrors of Morality 

In these stories, the Buddha appears in many forms — a courageous deer, a clever monkey, or a selfless hare. By imbuing animals with human virtues and flaws, the Jataka Tales serve as a mirror for our own behaviour. These characters allow us to reflect on greed, kindness, and bravery without feeling judged. 

Art: Ashok Dongre

Structurally, each tale connects the past with the present. A dilemma in the Buddha’s current life is resolved by recounting a relevant past-life experience. This narrative style illustrates the concept of karma not as a rigid law, but as a natural flow where every action has an echo. 

Lessons Beyond Words 

The power of the Jataka Tales lies in their ability to teach without preaching. Instead of giving direct instructions, they invite us to think, feel, and understand. We see choices being made, we see their consequences, and we slowly begin to shape our own sense of right and wrong. This is especially important today. In a fast-moving world filled with information, stories still have the power to slow us down and help us reflect. 

Art: Ashok Dongre

A Living Legacy 

Today, these stories transcend their ancient origins, appearing in different forms from carvings and paintings at Ajanta caves to comics and digital media. On Buddha Purnima, revisiting these tales is an act of reconnection. In a time when the world feels uncertain, these stories offer a gentler way of looking at life — one that values kindness over gain, responsibility over convenience, and connection over control.  

They remind us that the simplest stories — about animals in ancient forests — often hold the precise wisdom we need to navigate the complexities of the modern world. 

Read stories about Indian History, Mythology and Culture at our very own ACK Comics App.

Grassroots Warriors: The Story behind the Chipko Movement

by Nidhi Murthi

‘Ecology is a permanent economy.’ – Sunderlal Bahuguna

In the Himalayan forests of Uttarakhand, a group of women once stood between axes and the trees that had sustained them most of their lives. This gave birth to the ‘Chipko Movement’ — one of India’s most important environmental movements. On this World Earth Day, let us learn how this story feels more relevant now than ever. 

Background: Why the Movement Began 

The villagers who lived in the Himalayan region of Uttarakhand (then part of Uttar Pradesh) depended heavily on the nearby forests for their daily needs, such as fuelwood for cooking, timber for houses, and protection from soil erosion. During British colonial rule, laws were introduced under the Indian Forest Acts, which gave the government rights over natural resources in certain regions while limiting those of the local communities. After the Sino-Indian War in 1963, increased road construction and development led to further deforestation, which distressed the villagers.  

Art: Harsho Mohan Chattoraj

The tipping point came when the Uttar Pradesh Forest Department granted logging contracts to Symonds Company from Allahabad to cut trees. This angered villagers in the Chamoli district who felt that their needs were being ignored. With support from environmentalists such as Chandi Prasad Bhatt and his organisation, the Dasholi Gram Swarajya Sangh (DGSS), later known as the Dasholi Gram Swarajya Mandal (DGSM), the villagers began to protest to protect their trees. 

The Famous Reni Village Incident (1974) 

A defining moment came in March 1974, in Reni village (present-day Raini). When loggers were appointed to Reni, the men of the village were deliberately lured away under the pretext of receiving compensation. The women knew that saving the trees meant saving their children’s future. When the loggers arrived, they underestimated the determination of these women. As they advanced, the women, led by Gaura Devi, hugged the trees and refused to move till they left. The loggers realised that harming the trees meant striking the women first. Faced with such fierce and non-violent resolve, the loggers retreated.

The protest was so impactful that the government ordered a 10-year ban on cutting trees in the region.

The word ‘Chipko’ means ‘to embrace’ in Hindi. Since the women had ’embraced’ the trees, as news of the protest spread across the nation, it came to be known as ‘The Chipko Movement’.    

Art: Harsho Mohan Chattoraj
The Spread of the Chipko Movement  

Environmentalists like Sunderlal Bahuguna spread the message of the movement across the nation after this incident in 1974. During that time, people in the Himalayan villages had limited access to newspapers and other types of media. So, the villagers used folk songs and marches to spread the message to other parts of the hills and India. They began organising similar protests to protect their forests. Between 1972–1979, more than 150 villages were involved, resulting in 12 major protests and many minor confrontations in Uttarakhand. In 1978, the local women in the Tehri Garhwal district, Uttarakhand, tied sacred threads around the trees and recited verses from the Bhagavad Gita to stop the loggers. In Pulna village in the Bhyundar valley in the same year, the women confiscated the loggers’ tools and left receipts for them to be claimed if they withdrew from the forests. In some areas, chir pine trees that had been tapped for resin were also bandaged to prevent further exploitation of trees. The Chipko movement also inspired other environmental movements in India, including the 1983 Appiko Movement (‘Appiko’ means ‘to hug’ or ‘to embrace’ in Kannada), in Karnataka. As the support grew, the pressure also increased on the government to adopt policies that addressed people’s needs and were beneficial for the environment.  

The Leaders who helped the Movement 

While the movement was carried out by thousands of villagers, several leaders joined them and strengthened their hands. Among them, besides Gaura Devi and Sunderlal Bahuguna, were Chandi Prasad Bhatt and Dhoom Singh Negi. Sunderlal Bahuguna started the ‘Save the Himalayas’ movement and went on a historic 5,000 kilometre Trans-Himalayan foot march that took almost two years to complete. In this time, he highlighted the importance of protecting nature for future generations and connected with the villagers through folk songs. Social activist Dhoom Singh Negi fasted for five days to protest the commercial logging of the forests, which inspired people to participate in the movement. 

Art: Harsho Mohan Chattoraj
Impact and Importance 

In 1980, the movement reached a turning point when Prime Minister Indira Gandhi announced a 15-year ban on commercial tree felling in the Himalayan forests. It was a landmark victory that proved a movement led by ordinary people, especially women, could bring positive changes to national policy through peaceful, collective action. 

The Reni village protest showed women leading and carrying the movement across the nation. The image of women hugging trees in the hills of Uttarakhand remains one of the most powerful symbols of environmental care in India. Decades later, as the world faces environmental challenges, the voices of those Himalayan villages still guide us, reminding us that even the smallest acts of courage can protect the planet. 

Read stories on Indian History, Mythology and Culture at our very own ACK Comics App. 

Remembering Jallianwala Bagh

by Keya Gupta

On 13th April 1919, General Reginald Dyer of the British Indian Army opened fire on a large gathering of people in Jallianwala Bagh, Amritsar. What was a joyful and lively gathering of people for the Baisakhi fair and a peaceful protest against the British Raj, turned into a gruesome scene as the British attempted to silence Indian voices against their repressive laws. This incident has since been remembered through the years as the Jallianwala Bagh Massacre, and on 13th April, we solemnly recall and honour the lives lost on this dark day. 

The seeds that led to the Jallianwala Bagh massacre were sowed with the Rowlatt Act of 1919 which gave the colonial government the power to arrest and imprison anyone without a trial, leading it to being called ‘The Black Act’. In response to the Rowlatt Act, Mahatma Gandhi called for a nation-wide Satyagraha, a campaign of peaceful civil disobedience and hartals, to protest the act.  

Art: Ram Waeerkar

In Punjab, Lieutenant Governor Michael O’Dwyer responded to the situation harshly. He ordered the arrest of two popular local leaders, Dr Saifuddin Kitchlew and Dr Satyapal, both supporters of the Satyagraha movement. The news of their arrests spread widely in no time, sparking violent protests across Amritsar. O’Dwyer responded by imposing martial law and banning all public gatherings. 

Despite the ban, the occasion of Baisakhi on 13th April, drew thousands of men, women and children to Jallianwala Bagh, a walled public garden near the Golden Temple. Many came to celebrate the harvest festival. Others came to pray. And some came to protest the arrests of Kitchlew and Satyapal. Because of the martial law, news of the ban on gatherings had not reached most people.  

While vast, Jallianwala Bagh was not an open field but enclosed on all sides by high walls with only one open exit and entrance, the rest being locked. The gathering grew and while people feared a British response, they did not believe it would occur. However, Brigadier General Dyer, who had been given the task of maintaining law and order in the city, arrived with roughly 90 soldiers and ordered his troops to shoot directly at the gathering, without issuing any warning or asking the crowd to disperse.  

1650 rounds were fired in ten minutes, with soldiers deliberately aiming at the narrow exit, the very places people were running towards. Some tried to scale the walls but were shot down. Others jumped into the well inside the Bagh to escape the bullets and were suffocated to death. Most did not survive. Dyer stopped only when the ammunition ran out, then turned around and left. The wounded were left where they lay. The British government put the official death toll at 291. The Indian National Congress estimated closer to 1,000. The true number has never been established. 

The British attempted to supress and censor the news of the massacre but word of the atrocity spread quickly. Across India, the public and leaders responded with outrage.  

Gandhi had a swift response. He returned his Kaiser-i-Hind medal, awarded to him by the British government for his services during the Boer War. It was after the Jallianwala Bagh incident that Gandhi fully committed to mass non-cooperation as the only path forward. Just like the massacre made Indians more adamant to gain freedom, it made Gandhi more determined on the path of Satyagraha. Similarly, when Rabindranath Tagore heard the news nearly a month later on 22nd May 1919, his act of protest was quiet yet very powerful. On 30th May, he wrote to the Viceroy of India, renouncing the Knighthood bestowed upon him. Both Gandhi and Tagore chose to shed their colonial honours rather than carry them.  

Art: Ram Waeerkar

Jawaharlal Nehru got the news from Dyer himself, on a train journey, when he overheard General Dyer casually boasting about the massacre to fellow passengers. The experience shook him deeply. When he visited Jallianwala Bagh later, he noted the bullet ridden walls and the Martyrs’ Well, that the desperate people had jumped into. It became clear to him then that India’s freedom would not come through appeals to British fairness. People such as Annie Besant, C. Rajagopalachari, and other public voices condemned Dyer’s actions and spoke against the brutality faced by Indians.  

The massacre did not only anger leaders at the top, it also spread grief and defiance among ordinary Indians. Among those who were present during the massacre, few carried the weight like Udham Singh did. He was at the Bagh when the massacre took place, and narrowly escaped with his life. While he sustained no physical injuries, the incident became a lifelong wound. It intensified his efforts towards the independence movement, leading him to be arrested several times by the British government for his revolutionary activities. Years later, in 1940, it culminated with him shooting Michael O’Dwyer in London. 

Art: Ram Waeerkar

Back in Britain, the news of the massacre drew mixed responses. Some officials and politicians condemned Dyer and saw the firing as an abuse of power, since he had commanded the soldiers to shoot without warning and kept shooting even as people tried to flee. The Hunter Commission later criticised him for this, and the British government eventually removed him from service. Winston Churchill, who was then the Secretary of State for War, condemned Dyer and supported the motion against him in his speech before the House of Commons. 

But Dyer was also defended in several British circles, where he was praised for being firm and for preventing what they called a wider rebellion. Some newspapers and public supporters treated him like a hero. Dyer himself showed no remorse. He insisted that he had done the right thing, said he had saved Punjab, and continued to defend the massacre as a necessary lesson. 

The massacre showed to Indians how little the British valued their lives. It did not do what Dyer had hoped, to silence India. Instead, the massacre renewed in the people the desire for liberation from the British and gave a fresh impetus to the freedom struggle. 

Read more stories about Indian History, Culture and Mythology at our very own ACK Comics App.

 

The Final 24 Hours of Bhagat Singh

by Keya Gupta and Shree Sauparnika V. 

On the evening of 23rd March 1931, a revolutionary walked to the gallows in Lahore Central Jail singing ‘Inquilab Zindabad’. This was Bhagat Singh, who remains one of the most revered personalities of the Indian freedom struggle.  He was sentenced to death, along with his comrades Shivram Hari Rajguru and Sukhdev Thappar, for the killing of British police officer John Saunders, carried out in retaliation for the death of Lala Lajpat Rai.  

Wisdom at 23 

At the time of his martyrdom, Bhagat Singh was only twenty-three years old. He was single-minded in his vision for a free India, and that reflected in his calm and collected nature in the hours leading unto his death. A few months earlier, in October 1930, Bhagat Singh had written ‘Why I Am an Atheist’ in his Lahore jail cell as a reply to religious friends who felt his atheism was born of vanity. He argued that he would not seek comfort in blind faith, not then, not at the gallows. He argued that when you reason through what you believe, there is very little left to be afraid of. 

Art: Dilip Kadam

Change of Plans 

His execution was scheduled for the 24th of March, but it had been secretly moved forward by eleven hours, carried out on the evening of 23rd March instead, at 7:30 pm in the Lahore jail. The colonial government feared the crowds that would gather, and that the sight of the young revolutionary being led to his death might ignite a restless nation.  

The Last Letters 

That morning, the government allowed Singh a last meeting with his family and friends. In such a moment, while Bhagat Singh retained his composure, his youngest brother and sister wept. Instead of preparing himself to face death, Bhagat Singh spent his last hours writing letters to his family and reassuring them, a testament to his bravery and dedication to his country. He then wrote a letter to his comrades on the same day, telling them he awaited the final test with great eagerness. 

Art; Dilip Kadam

The Revolutionary 

In the minutes before he was hanged, he was reading a book on Lenin. When the warders came to take him, he is said to have held up a finger and asked them to wait, saying, “One revolutionary is meeting another.” He finished the page. Then he put the book down and walked out. 

Art: Dilip Kadam

The Last Meal: A Final Act of Equality 

Days before he was led out, Bhagat Singh made a request that surprised the jail authorities. He asked that his final meal be prepared by Bogha, a Dalit prison employee who worked as a sweeper in the jail. 

In a time when caste barriers were incredibly rigid, Bhagat Singh called Bogha  ‘Bebe’ (a Punjabi term of endearment for a mother). He explained that because Bogha cleaned his cell and handled his daily needs, she was like a mother to him. By choosing Bogha to cook his final meal, Bhagat Singh made a quiet but profound statement: his vision for a free India was one where nobody was considered ‘untouchable’, and everyone stood on equal ground. 

A Song for the Soil 

Art: Dilip Kadam

As Bhagat Singh, Rajguru, and Sukhdev emerged from their cells, they did not walk in the sombre silence usually expected of the condemned. Instead, they cheered “Inquilab Zindabad!” with linked arms and also began to sing. Their voices filled the corridors of Lahore Central Jail with the lines: 

Dil se niklegi na mar kar bhi watan ki ulfat, Meri mitti se bhi khushboo-e-wafa aayegi.  

(Even after death, the love for my motherland will not leave my heart; even from my ashes, the fragrance of loyalty will arise.) – Written by Lal Chand Falak

Art: Dilip Kadam

The sight of the three young men singing as they walked toward their death was said to leave the jail staff and fellow prisoners in a state of stunned awe. 

Facing Death Unveiled 

Upon reaching the execution platform, the trio was met by the Magistrate. In a final show of defiance, they refused to wear the traditional black hoods that would have blindfolded them in their final moments. Bhagat Singh spoke to the Magistrate, famously remarking that he was lucky to see how Indian revolutionaries could embrace death with a smile. 

Art: Dilip Kadam

The Secret Farewell on the Sutlej 

Terrified that a public funeral would spark an immediate uprising, the British authorities chose not to return the bodies to the families. Under the cover of darkness, they smuggled the remains through a back gate of the jail. They drove to the banks of the Sutlej River near Ferozepur, where they performed a hurried, secret cremation in the dead of night. 

The British tried to silence three young voices in the dark, but in the end, they only made them echo across the nation. Bhagat Singh, Rajguru and Sukhdev redefined what it meant to be freedom fighters. In their courage, there was no fear; in their defiance, no hatred and in their sacrifice was a vision of India that was fearless, equal and free. 

Read more stories about Indian History, Mythology and Culture on our very own ACK Comics App.