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Saturday, March 8, 2025

Back in Times

The Moose Bhagat Mandir

by

20161106

In 1887 James Hen­ry Col­lens not­ed with amaze­ment about his ob­ser­vances among in­den­tured In­di­an labour­ers and the depth of their faith, par­tic­u­lar­ly their knowl­edge of the Hin­di epic, the Ra­mayan:

"The phi­los­o­phy of our coolies in this colony is sub­stan­tial­ly that which their fore­fa­thers adopt­ed some 2,500 years ago in the philo­soph­ic age; their the­ol­o­gy, or rather mythol­o­gy, is that of the Pu­ranas of much more mod­ern date. In the pref­ace of the Ra­mayan it is stat­ed that he who con­stant­ly hears and sings this po­em will ob­tain the high­est bliss here­after, and be­come as one of the gods.

Hence the wily Babagee who reads to his ig­no­rant coun­try­men ac­counts from the Ra­mayan, or "Book of the Ex­ploits of Earn", ex­pects to get, and is tol­er­a­bly sure of re­ceiv­ing, a large of­fer­to­ry for his pains. It is, nev­er­the­less, as­ton­ish­ing how fa­mil­iar the Trinida­di­an coolies are with them; even amongst the hum­ble labour­ers who till our fields there is a con­sid­er­able knowl­edge of them, and you may of­ten in the evening, work be­ing done, see and hear a group of coolies crouch­ing down in a semi­cir­cle, chant­i­ng whole stan­zas of the epic po­ems, Ra­mayan, etc."

It would seem all the more im­pres­sive when one con­sid­ers the tri­als of com­ing to an alien land and re­main­ing large­ly un-in­te­grat­ed in­to a British West In­di­an colo­nial en­vi­ron­ment. Preser­va­tion of iden­ti­ty sub­lim­i­nal­ly oc­curred and though at times there were set­backs, from ear­ly in the in­den­ture­ship ex­pe­ri­ence there were toe­holds.

It was al­most im­pos­si­ble on the es­tates to have built re­li­gious ed­i­fices but this was to change. In­cen­tives of­fered up to the 1880s to en­cour­age In­di­ans to set­tle in the colony saw en­tire com­mu­ni­ties emerge both near the towns and in the wide open coun­try­side.

Ear­ly pan­chay­ats and oth­er as­sem­blies of­ten took place in the open air un­der trees but with time, mud-walled mandirs and tiny masjids be­gan to spring from the ground. A decade be­fore Col­lens, the fa­mous trav­eller and writer, Laf­ca­dio Hearn vis­it­ed Trinidad and was tak­en on a dri­ve through the old Pe­ru Es­tate, even then al­ready called Coolie Town and now known as St James. Hearn vis­it­ed a hum­ble mandir and wrote:

"The car­riage halts be­fore a shed built against a wall–a sim­ple roof of palm thatch sup­port­ed up­on joint­ed posts of bam­boo. It is a lit­tle coolie tem­ple. A few weary In­di­an labour­ers slum­ber in its shad­ow; pret­ty naked chil­dren, with sil­ver rings round their an­kles, are play­ing there with a white dog. Paint­ed over the wall sur­face, in red, yel­low, brown, blue, and green de­signs up­on a white ground, are ex­tra­or­di­nary fig­ures of gods and god­dess­es. They have sev­er­al pairs of arms, bran­dish­ing mys­te­ri­ous things–they seem to dance, ges­tic­u­late, threat­en; but they are all very naive–re­mind one of the first ef­forts of a child with the first box of paints."

Hearn could have very well been de­scrib­ing the Moose Bha­gat Mandir in Table­land near Princes Town, had it ex­ist­ed in his time. This his­toric sa­cred ed­i­fice is like many oth­er mandirs of the 19th and ear­ly 20th cen­turies in that it is of very hum­ble pro­por­tions and is dec­o­rat­ed by mu­rals which might seem prim­i­tive to jad­ed eyes, but are pre­served lov­ing­ly, be­com­ing at once folk and re­li­gious art at the same time. The mandir was es­tab­lished in 1904.

Moose Bha­gat, a pun­dit of Table­land and a small landown­er, re­moved some wa­ter-round­ed stones from a stream near his home and in a vi­sion of Lord Shi­va was in­spired to con­struct a per­ma­nent home for the sa­cred stones. The vi­sion pre­dates the mandir by four years and the lat­ter struc­ture was erect­ed un­der the su­per­vi­sion of an­oth­er ex-in­den­tured labour­er, Dur­ga Dass.

There are two shrines on the spot, one ded­i­cat­ed to Lord Shi­va and a slight­ly lat­er build­ing ded­i­cat­ed to Lord Ra­ma. In­side are orig­i­nal mu­rals paint­ed around the time of con­struc­tion.

These have been mod­i­fied with time but re­tain the same sim­plic­i­ty of the peo­ple who cre­at­ed them. One must re­call that of the tens of thou­sands of im­mi­grants who came and re­mained, very few were artists and the ma­jor­i­ty were agrar­i­an peo­ples, so that in ex­e­cut­ing their re­li­gious im­ages, their faith and de­vo­tion were the dri­ving fac­tors rather than what Eu­ro­centrics would term "artis­tic in­flu­ence."

Bha­gat's son-in-law, Jagdeo Sad­hu be­came the pun­dit and it is his line of de­scen­dants who have pre­served the mandir and its in­tegri­ty to this very day.

The roof of the Ra­ma shrine has been changed from the orig­i­nal but much re­mains in­tact in­clud­ing the cool open eaves where peo­ple gath­er to hear the epics which are still pre­served in San­skrit.


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