Authoritative Statements

in Kerala Temple Astrology

Gilles Tarabout *

Hindu temples in Kerala regularly undergo detailed and public

astrological scrutiny. While this procedure tells a lot to the pub-
lic as well as to the social scientist, the specific question addressed
here is: how do the astrologers’ statements acquire the authority to
be accepted as truth? One important aspect has to do with Sanskrit
authoritative treatises, i.e. with an understanding of “tradition”
and “knowledge” informed by the role of literacy. But success in
establishing an accepted truth relies also heavily on rhetorical skills,
and on social consensus. Proofs and arguments cannot prevent the
possibility of later contestation, a possibility all the more real with
present day’s democratization of astrological knowledge and the
multiplication of experts from “non-traditional” social backgrounds.

H indu temples patronized by the higher castes in Kerala undergo

a detailed and public astrological scrutiny whenever unfortunate
events associated with the temple are interpreted as possible consequences
of divine problems, or when modifications of the shrines or of the rituals
are considered. The procedure is called dēva praśnam, understood as both
a “question concerning the deity” and a “question put to the deity”. It is part
of that specific domain of astrology in India which is dedicated to the reso-
lution of interrogations and problems (praśnam). It has become ubiquitous
in Kerala, and of utmost importance for understanding changes in temple

* CNRS, Centre of Indian and South Asian Studies, Paris.

. Transliteration follows the spelling in Malayāḷam, the main language in Kerala,
even for words of Sanskrit origin. Plural forms are indicated by adding an “s”. Place names
are spelt according to current official Anglicized usage.
86 riss iI, 2007 ∙ articoli

life, in contrast with other regions of India where astrology about temples
mainly limits itself to the determination of auspicious times for ritual activi-
ties (muhūrttam).
Dēvapraśnams (hereafter: dp) tell a lot to the people who organize
them, as they disclose each and every aspect of the temple’s past, present
and future. They can also say much to the social scientist. For instance,
they make explicit (1) current debates about what is right and wrong in
temples, (2) rituals that are deemed to possess efficacy, (3) conceptions
about ritual transformations and their management, (4) the astrological
logic behind the belabouring of these issues, (5) and how astrologers are
able to elaborate truth and make it acceptable to the public. The present
paper is focused on this latter point.
For instance, astrologers claim to be able to determine the nature of
the deity installed. This leads them sometimes to affirm that the divine
presence in the temple is not the one which people for generations have
thought it to be (more below). One may expect reactions. Even when the
conclusions have not such a dramatic character, they are often unpalat-
able to many people attending the consultation. The question I would then
like to address is the following: how do astrologers manage to make their
point? Or, put in another way, how do their statements acquire the author-
ity to be socially accepted as truth?
In order to try to answer this question, I will consider dēvapraśnams
as performances, in which a particularly rich and complex interplay
between various actions — e.g. speaking, hearing, watching, reading,
computing, showing, writing — is put at the service of interpretation
and argumentation. One important aspect — but not the sole one — of
this interplay has to do with Sanskrit śāstras, “sciences, treatises”. As
such, the question of authoritative statements is also (but not only) a
question about a specific way to understand “tradition” and “knowledge”,
which is in turn informed by the question of “literacy”. In this particular
respect, dps offer a rather intricate combination of “orality” and “lit-
eracy”, and a positive valuation of both oral and written activities. This
point appears rather consensual for the participants themselves, while
they may well differ in opinion about other factors such as the impor-
tance of genealogy.

. For an analysis of other aspects, see Tarabout 2002 (on the human body as
metaphor and index for temple problems) and 2006 (on the elaboration of the past for
legitimating modifications).
tarabout ∙ Kerala Temple Astrology 87

This paper is organized in four sections. In the first I present a summary

of the current debate on literacy in Indian knowledge traditions, with the
aim to inform some aspects of dp procedures. Section two will give an out-
line of what dps are like. Section three develops an analysis of the tools and
skills required by the astrologers, and of the interaction with the audience
that leads to the establishment of truth. Section four reflects on the tensions
that may exist among the astrologers themselves, before concluding on the
social, non-consensual and impermanent character of (astrological) truth.

The literacy debate and Indian knowledge traditions

What has been called the “literacy thesis” has substantially evolved since
1963, when it was launched by E. Havelock on Ancient Greece, and, in
more general terms, by J. Goody and I. Watt (1963). In its initial stage, the
thesis held that the invention of writing, especially the invention of the
Greek alphabet, had far-reaching cognitive effects because it enabled the
recording of discourses, their circulation and accumulation, independent-
ly of face-to-face communication. This was said to entail the development
of scepticism, rationality, and historical thinking. The theory provoked
an intense debate. Critics argued that literacy by itself does not necessar-
ily provoke the emergence of scepticism, and may as well reinforce local
beliefs and ritual authority (Harries 2001). It does not either automatically
provide wider communication (Finnegan 1974). In other words, one of the
main difficulties of the “literacy thesis” appeared to be that it was “treat-
ing writing systems as neutral technologies rather than social products”
(Hiezen 1991, 227). The theory evolved towards more cautious assertions
(Goody 1968; 1987). Ancient Greece was no more privileged, the inven-
tion of writing was merely creating a “potential” without deterministic
implications, and social organization and ideology were reintroduced as
major determinants. The ambitions of the original cognitive thesis were
thus dramatically reduced to what principally seemed “the preservative
potentiality of writing” (Halverson 1992, 315). Even this last point, too,
came under attack by some Indianists (among others, Frits Staal).
The debate, in fact, brought into evidence the need to avoid any
dichotomy between purely oral societies and others. Oral and written
forms may coexist in a given society for long periods and “can eas-

. See also Finnegan 1974, Halverson 1992, Daniell 1999 and Harries 2001.
. Cf. Finnegan 1974, Daniell 1999 and Harries 2001.
88 riss iI, 2007 ∙ articoli

ily exhibit constant and positive interaction” (Finnegan 1974, 57). In

medieval Europe, for instance, while private reading was possible and
practised, there was nevertheless a specific high valuation of public read-
ing or “aurality”: “the excitement of live performance, the intensification
of aesthetic experience, the social bonding, the intellectual stimulation,
and the cultural affirmation available in the high-context environment
of public reading were key reasons of its popularity in the Middle Ages”
(Coleman 1995, 79). Similarly in the academic milieu, all the textualiza-
tion “was intended to be recycled in one way or another back into the oral
world in disputations or other public oral performances” (Ong 1984, 3),
an observation that proves particularly salient for India as well, at least
for astrological practice. In fact, Goody himself soon acknowledged that
the question of the mode of transmission (oral versus written) should be
distinguished from the continuing interplay between the oral and the
written in any literate society: “while writing may replace oral interaction
in certain contexts, it does not diminish the basically oral-aural nature
of linguistic acts.” (Goody 1987, xii).
Scholarship on India has forwarded two very contrasting interpretations.
According to one view, the birth, transmission and practice of indigenous
sciences were purely oral, and writing didn’t play any of the roles claimed
by the literacy thesis. According to another view, writing is assumed to
have been decisive in the development of sciences (Pingree 1988) and even
of Indian civilization as such (Pollock 2006), validating crucial aspects of
the literacy thesis.
It is generally agreed that the Vedic tradition, which is śruti, “hearing”,
did consider writing to be impure, defiling, a death-like practice unsuitable
for exact textual transmission. Indeed, Staal demonstrated the extraordi-
nary ability of some Brahman communities, by contrast, to orally preserve
with accuracy parts of the Vedic corpus dating more than 3000 years ago
(Staal 1961; 1986; also Galewicz 2005). This general tendency to hold writing
in suspicion, distrust, and even contempt, has persisted for long in a world
where writing, manuscripts, and later on books, came to be neither rare nor
strange (Malamoud 2002).
Whatever may have been the early development of writing in India
(Pingree 1988 argues for an early date as far as omen and astronomical
literature is concerned), its use for profane purposes began before the
beginning of the Common Era. As far as śruti was concerned, there was a

. See for instance Staal 1961, 1986 and 2006; see also Parry 1985.
tarabout ∙ Kerala Temple Astrology 89

strong prejudice against writing (maintained till now), but the very con-
demnation of writing suggests its use even in that domain, for “it makes
no sense to prohibit something no one does” (Śabara, quoted by Pol-
lock 2006, 43). Around the beginning of the Common Era, Sanskrit “was
reinvented as a code for literary and political expression” (Pollock 2006,
1) and became the sole medium by which ruling elites expressed their
power. Writing was at the core of the process. But much as was the case in
Europe till the Renaissance, the importance of oral/aural realization was
maintained: “writing thoroughly conditioned the Sanskrit literary text in
both its production and its preservation. […] at the same time, literature
was something orally performed” (Pollock 2006, 87; see also 1995, 119ff.).
The “clerical reticence” against writing is also to be compounded by
the sheer multiplicity of written texts (Colas 1997, 128). Sanskrit literary
history reveals an intensive activity of copying manuscripts, of critical
editions and revisions, and of innumerable commentaries (Colas 1999).
Written archives could have a binding legal role (ibid.). Speculation
about the intrinsic power of letters developed. Manuscripts became part
of the iconography of some gods, and could become the object of cults
(Mackenzie Brown 1986). In the field of science, training still relied on
memorizing verses taught by a guru, but the whole technical literature
would not have been created or preserved solely through oral means: for
Pingree (1988, 638), as far as mathematics and astronomy were concerned,
“the oral tradition of the ritualists and grammarians were aberrant. […]
for the greater part of Indian science, śruti is not really very relevant”.
This author evaluated the extent number of manuscripts in India (not-
withstanding all those lost) to about thirty million, “the largest body
of handwritten reading material anywhere in the world” (ibid.), out of
which some hundred thousands, corresponding to 10,000 separate works,
solely correspond to mathematics, astronomy and astrology (Pingree
1978; 1981).
These written texts were to be studied under the oral guidance of a guru.
However, while the accuracy of Vedic oral transmission was not meant to
provide understanding of the texts so memorized (Coburn 1984), transmis-
sion of śastras (“sciences, treatises”) could not have been done the same
way, as understanding of the text was needed. As Kemper remarked for Sri
Lanka, astrology as a technology can hardly be used “without being fully
understood and without constituting […] a view of the world” (Kemper
1980, 745).
Transmission of manuscripts was done within particularised intellec-
tual “schools”, or was restricted to some families equipped with their own
90 riss iI, 2007 ∙ articoli

libraries (Pingree 1978; 1981). In this way, the link between oral transmis-
sion and knowledge was preserved, taking advantage at the same time of
the potentialities that writing provided. It was also, of course, a powerful
means of social control over literacy and knowledge, as these resources
were kept deliberately scarce. While the literate milieu was much wider
than was at any time the strictly Vedic one, and could concern different
strata of society, teaching was mostly detained by Brahmans. Paradoxi-
cally, thus, the development of written culture in India relied till recently
on the very same milieu that stressed the oral ideal, suggesting that orality
as a value was an important component of the social hierarchy.
The development of printing met with similar ideological prejudice,
but social control was much more difficult to enforce. It rapidly gave new
opportunities to expand the sphere of literacy at an unprecedented rate,
enabling the circulation of printed identical copies in a far wider circle of
readers (Mattausch 1996). As the following pages will illustrate, printed
texts participate in the current marked changes in the access to knowl-
edge. But, like manuscripts, they have also to be viewed in a complex set
of practices involving oral performance as well.
The question of literacy has particular relevance for Kerala since the
region, besides being officially totally literate, had in the past a compar-
atively high level of literacy among non Brahman castes (Gough 1968).
At least from the 16th century, many Nāyars (considered śūdras from a
Brahman point of view but sociologically a dominant caste) were formally
taught writing and some were scribes in the courts. Even members of low-
status castes could have access, in some circumstances, to ritual, medical
and astrological knowledge: there are medical practitioners and astrologi-
cal specialists that belong to castes formerly classified as “untouchable”. At
the same time, high status Naṃpūtiri Brahmans families were the main
providers and repositories of written śāstras, while their upper strata kept
alive the art of Vedic recitation with an uncompromising stress on oral-
ity. Extremes meet and interact: there is devaluation of written texts for
Vedic recitation, production and transmission of written texts for sciences

. For instance Gujarati Banias of 17th century were “proficient in reading, writing
and arithmetic”, but were taught by Brahman pedagogues (Mattausch 1996, 66).
. On the one hand, Brahmans at the time of Independence held between 36 to 63 per
cent of all government jobs in India (depending on the regions), while constituting only 3,5
per cent of the population (King 1999, 171). On the other hand, Brahmans could fight for
preserving their caste privileges “over the right to use and hear chants and ritual instruc-
tions from the Vedas” in 19th century Maharashtra (Wagle 1987, 145).
tarabout ∙ Kerala Temple Astrology 91

within the very same caste, and wide literacy among various castes ena-
bling their partial access to śāstras.

Temple astrology in Kerala

Astrology in India is commonly categorised under three headings, jātakam

(horoscopy), muhūrttam (determination of appropriate time for an action),
and praśnam (answering queries). Praśnam’s basic principle consists in
establishing a horoscope for the time at which the query is made (com-
plemented by the interpretation of various omens), in order to elucidate
the situation and to propose recommendations. The main text currently
in use in Kerala (there are many others) is a Sanskrit work composed by
a Naṃpūtiri in the 17th century, the praśnamārggam (“The way of the
queries”). It mainly deals with the resolution of private problems, but
dedicates its 24th chapter (out of 32) to matters concerning deities and
rulers. Only 37 verses concern the gods, out of a total of some 2500 in the
whole work: dēvapraśnam is thus a specialised, limited adaptation of the
main practice of praśnam, and most of the rules are transposed from the
much more elaborated part on private queries.
The practice seems to be proper to Kerala where it has gained additional
importance in recent times as a way to rationalize ritual management in
temples. Other means such as divine possession still exist but seem to
have lost ground, at least in temples patronized by the higher castes in the
southern half of the state. There, dps are frequent, nearly compulsory for
any temple of importance. Significantly, “guides” have recently been pub-
lished in book form in Malayāḷam,10 testifying of a general public interest
and of the will to publicize the procedure. I shall briefly present a general
outline of its sequences.11

. See Pingree (1981) for a presentation and history of these three branches in
India.
. On the author, cf. Sarma 1972, 66ff. For a recent edition in Malayāḷam fonts
with Malayāḷam commentary, cf. Govindan 1987 and 1990. For an edition in devanagari
with English translation and commentary, cf. Raman (1991-2). As G. Colas has shown
(personal communication), the text presents various interpolations with a standard 15th
century Kerala work on temple rituals, the Tantrasamuccayam (cf. Tarabout 2002).
10. For instance Śankaragaṇakan (1981), Uḻutravāriyar (1986), Muttusvāmi (1995 and
1996).
11. Fieldwork was done in March and April 1999. I attended four dps (two of them
audio-recorded), five individual praśnams, and three classes in praśnam. I interviewed
92 riss iI, 2007 ∙ articoli

The whole process is started when some misfortune affects temple life
(e.g. the death of a devotee during a procession, illnesses of temple ele-
phants, lack of frequentation, etc.), or when a temple committee wants
to proceed to some transformation to the temple premises (changing the
roof, building a gateway or shops) or to the ritual routine. The committee
then calls upon an astrologer, and a delegation goes to meet him12 in his
reception room. The astrologer notes down the time when the question
is put to him so as to ascertain the corresponding rising sign, udhaya
lagna; he notes down other usual indications, such as the position of the
planets, the lunar mansion (nakṣatram, “star”) and the lunar day (tithi).
He takes also particular notice of the first sound (śabdam) pronounced
by the head of delegation, and of the latter’s spatial position in relation
to the astrological chart (rāśicakram, “wheel of zodiacal signs”) drawn
on the wooden board lying on his office table. In South India, contrary
to the North, this chart is a quadrangle divided into the twelve zodiacal
signs, rāśi, which occupy there fixed positions and are ordered in clock-
wise fashion, with the first rāśi, Aries (mēṭam), situated in the East. The
nearest sign to the committee’s leader place becomes the “ascendant by
place” (stithyārūḍham), from which will be counted the 12 Houses that are
the basis for astrological interpretation.13
Whatever may have been the reasons motivating the committee, the
astrologer infers from the very fact that its members have come to see him
that there is severe trouble in the temple. The deity is suffering or is angry,
and remedy has to be provided. His aim will be to proceed to a full audit
of the whole situation of the temple, including the nature of the deities
present there, the state of the buildings and of the divine images, the qual-
ity of the performance of rituals and of festivals, the possible presence of
ghosts or of “cruel” deities, the existence of acts of witchcraft, the purity
of the precincts, the possible mismanagement by temple authorities. It is
only incidentally, in his final conclusions that the specific question asked

eleven astrologers, some of them at length and many times, and collected twenty-two final
reports. I thank all the astrologers concerned for making themselves so kindly available,
as well as the many friends who helped me during this enquiry, with a special mention
to L.S. Rajagopalan, erudite and cheerful guide for so many undertakings. Two papers in
French have analysed aspects of dps (Tarabout 2002 and 2006).
12. To the best of my knowledge, astrologers practising dps are all men.
13. As is well known, Houses are usually counted from the “rising sign” (lagna) in
horoscopy. The determination of an “ascendant by place” would not be possible in the
North Indian system where rāśis occupy changing positions in the chart.
tarabout ∙ Kerala Temple Astrology 93

by the committee will be answered. In addition, the recommendations

always include a usually rather long list of rituals as “remedial measures”
(parihāram) and expiations (prāyaścittam), which can be very elaborate
and costly.
At the time of the committee’s visit, however, the astrologer limits him-
self to note down a maximum of details, enabling him to make a chart of
the “question” (pṛchcha) which he keeps to himself for the time being. He
then decides the date for the main consultation, called the ceremony of the
“eight auspicious objects” (aṣṭamaṃgalam kriya).14 This is public, held in the
temple itself a few days or weeks after the visit; the committee publicizes its
date and venue in Malayāḷi newspapers.
The ceremony is a ritualised set of actions intended to make manifest
the condition, and the will of the temple’s deity. On the said day, the astrol-
oger together with a few other colleagues, and often with some disciples,
come to the temple, enter its precincts, and sit down in the forefront of
the inner shrine which is left opened during the ceremony. The committee
members, ritual specialists, temple devotees and the general public, if any,
watch the proceedings. A complex sequence of ritualised actions follows.
An oil lamp is lighted by the pūjāri, who prepares also the eight auspicious
objects, typically white rice, turmeric, vermillion, betel leaves with an areca
nut, a new piece of cloth, a mirror, a coin or a ring in gold, and a book (often
a copy of the Bhagavadgīta). The lines of a chart are drawn on the ground
by the pūjāri or a devotee using sacred ashes,15 where various pūjās (to
protecting deities, to the planets, to the rāśis) are offered by a chief priest
(tantri). A small child is then invited to lay down a gold coin in this chart,
in whatever rāśi she may like.16 This rāśi will become the “gold ascendant”,
svarṇṇārūḍham or simply ārūḍham,17 and will be the starting point for

14. This form of praśnam is called aṣṭamaṃgalapraśnam; the name is interpreted

either by reference to the eight objects, or by reference to a divination by cowries which is
also used during dps.
15. There are variations. In an English guide compiled from various sources by a
non-Kerala scholar (Bhat 1992), the list of eight auspicious objects is given as “lamps, mir-
ror, gold, milk, curds, fruits, book and white cloth” (p. 77). For drawing the chart, “ashes
are forbidden” (p. 81). This latter point is considered in the praśnamārggam (IV-13), but
explicitly left undecided (testifying of a practice that may not have been uniform at the
time of its composition).
16. It should be an “innocent” person. Young girls often seem to be specifically quali-
fied, but I could also meet this requirement for a class.
17. The terminology is sometimes confusing, as lagna, ārūḍham and rāśi can equally
be employed as shortcuts for pointing to the various “ascendants” (up to six in central
94 riss iI, 2007 ∙ articoli

counting the 12 Houses that frame the whole interpretation. The astrologers
note down the time when the child lays the gold coin, the usual astrological
data (lagna, tithi, nakṣatram, planetary positions). They consider very care-
fully various elements that take an ominous character: the way the chart of
ashes has been drawn, the name of the child, her birth nakṣatram, how she
is dressed, how she behaves, as well as the direction in which the flame of
the oil lamp is bending, the quality of the oil and of the wicks, the number
of betel leaves that have been offered. They also compute a few parameters
by using cowries (kavaṭi), particularly the “praśnam number”. The cere-
mony is over.
The interpretation proper follows. It takes the form of a prolonged dis-
cussion between the astrologers, and between astrologers and committee
members. This discussion is public, and may take between one to seven (or
more) days. It bears both on the chart and omens of the “question”, at the
time of the initial visit, and on the chart and omens of the ceremony at the
temple. The whole process is concluded by a written report that includes the
charts, the main conclusions (but not the details of the discussion), and a
list of recommendations. It is established by the chief astrologer, signed by
him and by the other astrologers who certify that the decisions taken were
unanimous, and given to the committee in order to be implemented (which
may not always be the case).
The whole procedure is thus a complex social one, where stakes can
be very high — the redefinition of the whole temple, or more commonly
accusations of incompetence or malpractice against temple servants or
trustees. Despite the position of expertise attributed to the astrologers,
there can be contestations, so that astrologers always need to strongly
substantiate their advice. They do this through various means, which we
shall now examine.

Dēvapraśnam as performance

The following pages will not elaborate on the techniques of dēvapraśnam,18

or on the nature of the texts used by the astrologers. Rather, their purpose
is to analyse the specific interactions that concur to build up authoritative
statements. I will first describe the various tools and skills that are required

Kerala dps). For clarity’s sake, I use here lagna only for the rising sign, rāśi for referring to
a portion of the zodiac, and ārūḍham for the various “ascendants” other than the lagna.
18. For more information, see Tarabout 2002 and 2006.
tarabout ∙ Kerala Temple Astrology 95

by any astrologer, before concentrating more at length on the procedures

aimed at establishing truth during a dp, which imply producing authority.
I want to stress that I do not think that these procedures are necessarily
intended to build authority (though some may be). But certainly, this is one
of their effects.

Tools and skills

Astrologers in Kerala require a few tools and skills. Emblematic of their

trade are a wooden board (palaka) on which the lines of the quadran-
gular cakram is engraved (or drawn with chalk), as well as a bag of 108
cowries (kavaṭi) used for various divination procedures or, now rarely,
for mathematical computation. Board and cowries are the object of a
regular cult: the board is the support of pūjās to gods, goddesses, and
astrological entities (rāśis, planets), while cowries are sanctified in their
own right.
Additional cowries are often used for representing “planets” in the chart
(one cowry for Sun, two for Moon, three for Mars, etc.,), as well as special
(bigger) shells or stones for representing lagna, ārūḍham, the ascendants,
for Rāhu and Kētu, and for a tenth “planet”, Māndi, identified with the
dangerous deity Guḷikan, “son” of Saturn.19 Alternately, these astrological
indications may be placed by writing the corresponding initials with a chalk
in the chart, and it is of course also in this written form that the information
is recorded in the final report on paper. In order to give an illustration, here
is the chart of a famous (and contested) dēvapraśnam conducted on April
16th, 1995, by seven astrologers at the demand of the Travancore Devaswom
Board, the State authority over more than 1000 temples in South Kerala.
The aim of the Board was to decide about the master plan it proposed for
the development of the Śabarimala temple, the focus of an annual pilgrim-
age that draws millions of people. The information is taken from the report,
which in this case was published.20

19. “Planets” are not always so (like the sun and the moon). For simplicity’s
sake, they are indicated here by their ordinary English equivalent, as are the zodiacal
signs. There are close historical connections between Indian astrology and traditions
in the West (Greco-Latin and Arabian), on which a wealth of scholarship has been
published.
20. Śrīśabarimala kṣētrattile aṣṭamaṃgala praśnaccārttu, not dated (ca. 1995).
 96 riss iI, 2007 ∙ articoli

↑
EAST

lagna
saturn
mandi sun mercury venus
SUN LAGNA
MERCURY BODY SIGN
KETU

(pisces)      (III) (aries)      (IV) (taurus)      (V) (gemini)     (VI)

d navamsa SATURN MARS k
VENUS

(aquarius)     (II) (cancer)     (VII)

moon GOLD ARUDHAM
rahu
mars
jupiter
(capricorn)     (I) (leo)      (VIII)
JUPITER RAHU MANDI
MOON CHATRA SIGN
BETEL SIGN

(sagittarius)    (XII) (scorpio)     (XI) (libra)       (X) (virgo)      (IX)

– The orientation of the cakram is always the same, and the zodiacal signs (shown
here within brackets) always at the same place: they are therefore never indicated.
– The (gold) ārūḍham, and not the rising sign (lagna), determines the first House
(“I” in brackets): Houses are also never indicated.
– All the other indications appear explicitly, either marked by shells or stones, or
with the initials written (this is the case here).
– Within the different rāśis are indicated the position of the “planets” (seven, plus
Rāhu, Kētu and Māndi), of the rising sign (lagna), of the gold ārūḍham, and often, but
not always, of a few other “ascendants”: some are observed “marks” put in equivalence
with astronomical positions, such as the “body sign” (spṛṣṭāṃga rāśi, lit. “sign of the
part [of the body] touched [by the child after laying down the gold coin]), or the “betel
sign” (the number of leaves is correlated to a planet and to a rāśi). Other ones, like here
the chatra rāśi, are obtained by combining multiple astrological parameters.
– Outside the different rāśis is indicated (here in italics) the position of nearly all
the same elements according to the navāṃśam division.21

21. Navāṃśams correspond to the subdivision by nine of each rāśi (i.e. 3 1/3 degree of
the zodiacal belt), and are themselves named after the 12 rāśis.
tarabout ∙ Kerala Temple Astrology 97

Despite the richness of its information, such a chart is a mere tool for visual-
izing positions (which can as well be indicated by shells or stones), and does
not require to be written except, for practical reasons, in the paper report.
It is however necessarily complemented by more precise astronomical and
astrological data such as exact longitudes and complex mathematical com-
binations of positions (yōgas, sūtras, sphuṭas), which are calculated from the
data provided in printed almanacs before being recorded on paper. I once
witnessed a Naṃpūtiri practitioner using cowries instead of a calculator for
these computations, with amazing dexterity; to the best of my knowledge
this ability seems rare nowadays. Pocket calculators are part of the basic
equipment of today’s astrologers. In any case, these indications are always
later put into writing.
Two other tools help considerably astrological practice, and are systemat-
ically consulted: a clock, and a calendar or, better, an almanac (pañcāṃgam),
providing for each day all the basic astronomical data. A quite compre-
hensive one (more than 130 pages) is for instance published yearly by the
Travancore Devaswom Board and is widely circulated, but there are many
others available on the market. These published tables are of course crucial
to the astrologer and constitute the only real link between astronomy and
astrology, as today’s astrologers are not astronomers. It had been for long
the main task of former astronomers to compute them (Pingree 1978, 364),
and as Kemper (1980) remarked for Sinhala astrology, they are at the tex-
tual center of astrological knowledge, together with the set of rules for their
interpretation.
All these tools would be perfectly useless without the skills to make
sense of them. These skills are acquired through the tuitions of a guru, by
assisting him and by attending dps, and consist of a lot of verses carefully
memorized, and of the intuition necessary for thinking of them timely.
As a matter of fact, the number of possible combinations of astrological
parameters is such that choices are largely open and give the practi-
tioner much latitude in interpretation: training is then indispensable for
mastering the art of matching interpretative possibilities with a given
situation. As for the texts themselves, they are to be learnt by heart, and
comprise not only the praśnam treatises but also reference texts such
as Varāhamihira’s Bṛhatsaṃhitā,22 as well as (in principle) grammati-
cal treatises on Sanskrit language, the importance of which will appear
later. Most of these texts are now published, but their study is necessarily

22. A 6th century, widely circulated treatise.

98 riss iI, 2007 ∙ articoli

through an oral instruction, either by a guru or, nowadays, by attending

astrological classes.
The importance of oral transmission, textual memorization, and non-
verbal training (compare Yano 2006), is thus obviously central to the
practice. At the same time, one cannot be but impressed by the omnipres-
ence of written (and, for some, printed) documents and indications, by the
eagerness with which attending disciples fill in the pre-printed pages of
their book-note with data coming out of the proceedings, or by the need
to provide the temple’s committee with a detailed written report.23 Writ-
ing does not suffer here the kind of ideological devaluation that is so often
extrapolated from the vaidika tradition to the whole of “Hindu culture”.
That a positive value is even given to writing appears also from the fol-
lowing brief anecdote. Commenting on this very dp that concluded about
the mistaken identity of the main deity, one of the participant astrologers
assured me that the original tantri, the chief priest who had consecrated
the deity in former times, could not have made a mistake. The fault was
necessarily with subsequent pūjāris who did not perform the proper ritu-
als. However, he said, the tantri was somehow at fault because he had
not recorded in writing the rules of the pūjā in order to avoid such err-
ing. Therefore it had been decided during the dp that the new tantri to
be appointed would record these specifications and hand them over to
the pūjāri. And the mantra of the real deity would be displayed in writ-
ing on the shrine’s wall so that devotees could do the correct recitation
(C. Visvanathan, 22 March 1999). The insistence on the recording capacity
and on the authority of the written word cannot be clearer. It confirms
the central importance given to various tools that have been enumerated
(note-books, books, almanacs, reports, etc.), and is more generally cru-
cial to current astrological practice throughout India (compare Pugh 1981,
24ff.; Guenzi 2004).
At the same time, interpretative skills derive from oral/aural practice,
and determine the capacity to establish truth. The discussion that follows
the ceremony of the eight auspicious objects provides striking examples
of rhetoric virtuosity combined with an insistent display of visible and
recorded proofs.

23. The final report parallels the “prescription” that astrologers very often give to
their clients at the end of the consultation — much as would be the case with a medical
practitioner.
tarabout ∙ Kerala Temple Astrology 99

The discussion: piling up proofs

The discussion (carcca) can be held in the temple or in its vicinity. The as-
trologers sit together on one side, the public (committee members and devo-
tees) sitting in front of them or on three sides. The attendance may vary,
from a few committee delegates to a large participation.
Astrologers differ in opinions about the necessity of this discussion.
One astrologer, D. Iyer, who conducted the dp concluding about the dei-
ty’s mistaken identity, held that the elements gathered at the time of the
delegation’s visit were enough for diagnosing the problems and the reme-
dial measures. For him, the subsequent public ceremony and discussion
were largely “a show”, which committees had to organise as they had “a
commitment to the public” (D. Iyer, 1 April 1999). The general opinion,
however, considers that the discussion is absolutely necessary for truth
to emerge. In principle at least, the discussion is conceived as a dispu-
tatio between astrologers exchanging contradictory arguments. What
astrologers in the Thrissur area of Kerala evoked as being characteristic
of the “old way”, for instance, is a discussion that could go on for days.
Astrologers would be putting questions to others who would in their turn
respond, everybody making reference to Sanskrit ślokas found in śāstras,
with the chief astrologer — called ācārya, “spiritual master” — arbitrating
the scholarly dispute. As one astrologer explained, a single astrologer, if
not endowed with some kind of divine quality, can make mistakes. The
discussion is intended to limit the risks. This is why the meeting is like
a “court of law, bringing different meanings [of the ślokas] to the place,
discussing, and then coming to conclusions.” However, discussions now
may not be as lengthy as they were before: “this is not to say that the old
way is not correct. But [nowadays] nobody has got time” (V. Raghavan
Nair, 10 April 1999).
The four discussions I could witness did not exactly follow the model
of a contradictory debate among astrologers. In three of them, the chief
astrologer engaged in a monolog, domineering completely the situation
and interrupting himself occasionally only for checking technical points
with the other astrologers. The fourth one ended after a few hours by
deciding to conduct later a new dp again. This was indeed the result of a
debate, but contestation did not come from within the invited astrologers.
It came from some devotees, who happened to be the astrologers who had
conducted a previous dp in the same temple and were not consulted for
the present one: they strongly objected to the proceedings on technical
grounds, relying on appropriate ślokas. The dispute was then between
100 riss iI, 2007 ∙ articoli

this group and the temple committee, and what the ācārya of the dp did
arbitrate with commendable serenity had little to do with a disputatio of
the “old way”.
Interactions between astrologers, and between astrologers and the
public, are therefore not expected to be always easy. Astrologers have not
only to find the truth, but also to make their point. For both purposes,
they look for proofs. Proofs in a dp pertain to two orders of phenomena.
One is normative knowledge, as embodied in the ślokas given by masters
of yore. The other is made by all the ominous signs recorded at the time
of the praśnam.
At each step of the interpretation ślokas are first chanted and then
commented in order to substantiate a view. They are explicitly said to
be pramāṇas, “norms, authorities, truths”, a popular use of the word
which accords well with what Parry (1985, 204) says about Banarasi
Brahmans’ relations to śāstras: “the shastrik elements are pramanik
(‘proven’), eternally valid and binding on all Hindus”.24 Following a
widespread tendency in Indian traditions of knowledge, where śāstras
have a fundamentally normative dimension (Pollock 1985), astrologers
prefer to discuss their meaning rather than their validity. In the “old
way”, particularly, the scholarly dispute is supposed to be through and
about ślokas in order to reach a “correct way of thinking” (U. Kurup, 8
April 1999). Therefore, it does not only concern astrological rules, but
also the grammatical rules necessary for understanding astrological
rules. This grammatical knowledge is crucial as some astrological ślokas
have different meanings — up to 16, according to some — which depend
on context and opinion: “this is a wonder of Sanskrit language”, as V.
Raghavan Nair put it once, and therefore “in dēvapraśnam all this is
coming under discussion to determine what is applicable to the situ-
ation” (10 April 1999). Attending a praśnam of the “old way” was thus
a wonderful occasion for learning, as experts had to use “all the ślokas
studied from childhood”, astrologer U. Kurup said; but now “modern-
ists use less than 50 ślokas” (8 April 1999).
I was unfortunately unable to witness such famed grammatical con-
tests, as controversy among astrologers was nearly inexistent in the few
cases I observed. But they might still be performed for dps in the big-
ger temples. Nevertheless, even in the cases I could attend, ślokas were

24. There is, however, no philosophical consensus on this understanding of prāmaṇas

(see for instance Perrett 1999, 317ff.).
tarabout ∙ Kerala Temple Astrology 101

indeed constantly recited by the chief astrologer for calling attention

to specific astrological combinations and providing their correct inter-
pretation. During a three days dp witnessed in Thrissur, the astrologer
recited more than 200 Sanskrit ślokas, some of them on very general
considerations about temples and gods, others quite technical on astral
configurations; he sometimes (but not always) explained in Malayāḷam
the verses, applied it to the given situation or elaborated an ex tempore
improvisation on the theme, before proceeding to the next śloka. More
generally, Sanskrit verses are a constant articulation in the step-by-step
development of the discourse, as well as a proof of the scientific character
of the deductions — all the more since generally nobody in the audience,
except fellow astrologers, can understand the ślokas nor is even familiar
with this linguistic register.
The scientific basis of astrology is also perceived to lie in the astronom-
ical and mathematical basis of its speculations. References to astronomy
and mathematics are in obvious display in almanacs, in the pocket calcu-
lators that nowadays enable one to calculate exact longitudes, and in the
technical vocabulary that is associated with these computations. I do not
mean to say that these computations and this vocabulary are not needed
within the logic of astrology, but merely that one “side-effect” is to give
an immediate and visible impression of exact science validated by mod-
ern technologies — a fact underlined by all interlocutors. Indeed, there is
even a kind of hypertrophy of mathematical speculations, as many astro-
logical parameters are “derived” combinations of “first-level” data: the
chatra ascendant, for instance, is determined by counting as many rāśi
from the vīthi rāśi (itself a “derived” rāśi related to the position of Sun)
as there are rāśis separating the lagna from the ārūḍham. The “reality”
of such data is therefore largely computational (the same may be said of
the navāṃśa positioning of planets, of complex parameters like sūtras,
yōgas, etc.). In line with this strong commitment to computation, there is
also a process which may be called the “astronomization” of omens. The
spatial position of the chief of the delegation at the time of the “question”,
or the laying of the gold coin, are examples of an action by human actors
that gets converted into an astronomical data — a rāśi, determining the
first House. There are many examples: the part of the body touched by
the child after laying the gold coin is put into equivalence with a rāśi;
the number of betel leaves is put into equivalence with a planet, with a
rāśi and with a House; the “praśnam number” drawn by using cowries
consists in fact in three numbers, each put into equivalence with a planet.
As soon as the omens enter thus the astrological chart, they are in turn
102 riss iI, 2007 ∙ articoli

submitted to various computations: in a way, from the domain of omens,

they are made to enter the domain of scientific validity of astronomy and
mathematics.
Not all omens get “astronomized” and many retain their “common-
sensical” quality, that is, they partake of widely shared assumptions
about the meaning of some events: the crowing of crows, the presence of
sumaṅgalis (married women blessed by a son and a living husband), meet-
ing a widow, the irruption of a cat,25 the directions of the oil lamp’s flames,
the quality of the betel leaves, the quality of breath of the astrologer, any
impurities that may be found, etc. The list is nearly endless. Consider-
able developments are accorded to omens in astrological treatises so that,
while in Western practice divination and astrology tend to be considered
as separate categories, in India they are mutually integrated. Omens are
direct, unmediated indications. In the case of dps they are sent by the tem-
ple’s deity in order to make known its grievances. They mark the deity’s
will and “prevent [the astrologer] from foolishness” (V. Raghavan Nair, 10
April 1999): they are thus perceived as being very much part of the ration-
ality of the procedure. And they fit well with the overall obsession for the
cross-checking of data that characterizes dps. Omens are always used in
association with other parameters, contributing to their interpretation.
Since the procedure is thought to be fraught with the risk of making mis-
takes as the result of the action of adversary forces (ghosts, evil deities),
which are part of the problem to be solved, as many and as diverse “proofs”
as possible are accumulated and cross-checked so as to reach a truth that
will then become inescapable.26
Cross-checking is done in different, complementary ways. One is to ask
the audience. A typical anecdote will illustrate this aspect. It was told to me
by Mr. M. Kutty, secretary of the dēvasvam of the important Tiruvambadi
temple in Thrissur. A few years ago, during a dp conducted in that temple,
astrologers tried to put a name on a prētam (unsatisfied spirit of a dead per-
son) haunting the premises and found from their data that it was the ghost
of a man addicted to drinking. Somebody in the assistance suggested the
name of a former President of the dēvasvam who had some liking for it, “a
habit only, not a vice”. M. Kutty immediately protested that this could not
be correct, he had been a good man, “magnificent, munificent even”. He

25. This happened in a dp which I witnessed. The crossing of the temple premises by
a “red” cat was immediately consigned as a “fiery” dōṣam (“defect, trouble”).
26. For similar observations about Banarasi astrologers, see Guenzi 2004, 127ff.
tarabout ∙ Kerala Temple Astrology 103

asked the astrologers to be more precise, and they found that the man had
died in connection with fire. Then M. Kutty suggested the name of another
person who could better qualify, to the satisfaction of all present (M. Kutty,
12 April 1999).
This kind of interaction which provides the possibility to combine (and
thus verify) astrological predictions with narratives of the concerned peo-
ple is in line with a systematic procedure adopted by astrologers, which is
both a methodological and an ethical posture. It consists in “predicting the
known”. The astrologer should not be familiar beforehand with the tem-
ple (except when he is “attached” to it), and should not go there before the
praśnam, nor should he examine it directly at that time. All what he has
to say about the temple has to emerge out of astrological data and nimit-
tams. For instance, he may predict that the temple is one of a goddess, that
it includes such and such shrines and deities — all things that the devotees
know and that anybody visiting the temple would find out, but that the
astrologer has to discover solely from planets and omens. This proves to
be an extremely effective way of publicly demonstrating the accuracy of
the method used in dps, and the astrologer’s expertise. Indeed, astrologers
themselves underline that this is a wonderful property of the procedure.
And, as we have seen one example above, it applies as well to predictions
about the past, when “planetary indications enable to discover past events,
and some elderly person who knows all about this is able to confirm: this
possibility to check is marvellous” (Nambiyar Sir, 2 April 1999).
Thus, verbal exchange between astrologers and consultants often takes
the form of a series of predictions made by the former, to which the latter
answers with cursory approval or disapproval, or by putting names and
histories on the schemata proposed. One astrologer (Shanmugham Master)
compared the process to a mechanic hearing a noise in the engine and elim-
inating one after one the possible causes: the possibility to make (and get
invalidated) wrong predictions is legitimate in the praśnam logic. Astrology
is an always winning game: wrong predictions are just tests helping one to
reach the truth, and they do not really diminish an astrologer’s prestige,
provided he knows how to put the questions, while good predictions are
successes, truths, and contribute to his good repute.
Ślokas, astronomical references, mathematics, omens, and cross-checks,
may however not suffice to reach fool-proof conclusions. Therefore the latter
are still again and again tested during the course of a dp through a divi-
nation procedure called oḻivu nōkki, “remedy looking”. Having in mind a
specific question to be answered (“is this conclusion correct?”, “is the deity
satisfied?”), the astrologer draws cowries, their number pointing to a rāśi
104 riss iI, 2007 ∙ articoli

to which is compared the position of Guru (Jupiter), giving a positive or a

negative answer to the question. This is done systematically and taken as
final proof for each submitted conclusion.

An art of persuasion

In order to have a glimpse of the way proofs are unfolded in the course of
the discussion, let us take as example the dp conducted by D. Iyer on March
21st, 1999, in a small temple of Thiruvananthapuram, where he found that
the main deity was not the one everybody thought it was. The temple was
known as a temple of the goddess Kāmākṣi. The astrologer discovered from
his data that the effective divine presence (sānnidhyam) was that of the god-
dess Rājarājeśvari. As can well be imagined, convincing the committee and
the devotees needed a skilful management of the situation. The case in itself,
though not frequent, is not extraordinary: an explicit and foremost aim of
dps is to ascertain the sānnidhyam.27 In the present situation, at least, the
audience remained little receptive for quite a while, and D. Iyer and his
colleagues had to display some eloquence and a lot of proofs. With their fin-
gers, they repeatedly pointed to show everybody the written chart and the
inscribed position of planets; they recited ślokas after ślokas; they opened a
book and read aloud the characteristics of the new identity discovered, just
to make them plain.
The sequence of arguments could appear to be following somewhat a
zigzag line, as the subject of the goddess was taken up, then left for com-
menting upon ghosts and various calamities, then taken up again, then left
for the ghosts and calamities, then taken up again, etc. (I witnessed a simi-
lar “tactic” used by D. Iyer during a consultation for a private client, when
he constantly shifted from one topic — business — to the other — marriage).
Here are a few very short excerpts, respecting the sequential order:

(about the goddess) “The presence of god: the situation is one of adversity.
Balance [in that case the ārūḍham rāśi of the gold coin] is a sacred sign,
but it is also a defective sign.”

27. It usually confirms the existing situation, or may add nuance. During the reno-
vation ceremony of a 350-years old Gaṇapati temple, a dp “revealed the presence of female
divinity in the idol”, concluding that it was “Vallabha Gaṇapati”. As the report goes, what
had been seen in the stars was later confirmed by direct examination: “a faint but distinctly
visible carving of a feminine picture was noticed on the back of the idol” (The Hindu, online
edition, 24 June 2005).
tarabout ∙ Kerala Temple Astrology 105

(about ghosts and deity) “Mars became ārūḍham there. There is not only
the sight of Saturn; Sun, the Lord of the House of Guḷikan stands in the
6th House like the Lord of the 11th House and is making contact with the
6th House. In the 11th House, the Lord of the 6th is causing slothfulness.
The chief defect here is the relations with phantoms or ghosts, which in
turn are connected with the installation of the deity.”
(about ghosts) “Mars comes in the sign of Venus […] there is an installation
of deity here which is inappropriate to the temple, it is Brahmarakṣassu
[ghost of a Brahman, very often installed as guardian deity in high caste
temples of Kerala].”
(about calamities) “The Lord of the 5th House is not the only planet stand-
ing in the 7th. Moon, Saturn and Venus are also standing in the 7th. If
Moon and Venus get the yōga of Saturn and also get the sight of Mars, the
downfall or the extinction of woman is the result. Quarrels of this kind
will arise among the worshippers also.”
(about ghosts) “As regards Kētu standing in the sign of Saturn, it has the
indication of ghosts.”
(about the goddess, after wondering if it could be Kāḷi) “It found pleasure
in ornaments and other matters. Even though she is wearing blood cloths,
she is not Bhadrakāḷi.”
(about ghosts) “When circumstances and evil character changed [an allu-
sion to a reconstruction of the past according to which “primitive gods”
were worshipped, then abandoned] Bramarakṣassu came along. So it
caused injury to other gods also. This is to get rid of.”
(about the goddess) “If we think about the presence of god, the question
is how to install the Dēvi […] As Moon is related to Venus, it is in the
shape of Rājarājeśvari. It has an amorous demeanour. Circumstances have
shown us a goddess of pious characteristics.”

After much more elaboration, astrologers presented themselves as helpless:

facts were facts, they couldn’t be altered, nobody could do anything about
this. It was Rājarājeśvari. This specific identification was confirmed by the
divination with cowries. The change in deities was also confirmed by an
omen: D. Iyer himself, due to birth pollution in his family, had been unable
to conduct the ceremony in the temple and had to be represented by another
astrologer; “the change of astrologers indicates the deity is not the proper
one”. Eventually, the overall consultation and the remedial measures were
fully confirmed by a series of divinations by cowries.
The progressive disclosure of truth by circling and focusing more and
more on the final conclusion, adding proofs one upon the other, is com-
106 riss iI, 2007 ∙ articoli

plemented by a few rhetorical devices such as, for instance, depicting a

catastrophic image of the situation (which may well reflect the opinion of
astrologers). Here is again D. Iyer, speaking during the same dp:

“Now I shall tell about the activity of the child. Name is Gauri [the “pale
one”], nakṣatram is Bharaṇi, colour of dress is red and black mingled. The
child did correctly what it was asked to do. When the child placed the rāśi
her face turned pale. The touch of the finger [on her body] was on Gemini.
With folded hands she stood facing north. She placed the rāśi moving her
left foot backwards. The gold coin was not in the middle, it was looking
downwards. It is seen that the decay began from some time past, that it
has reached its zenith now, that it is moving towards ruin. Even though
gold was placed in a good rāśi, it faced downwards. The present stage is
Mars. The planet standing in the ārūḍham is Mars. The sight of Saturn is
there. Then why was the gold lost? This indicates not only decline but also
total destruction.”

Temples in dps appear full of pollution, full of ghostly presences or unwant-

ed cruel deities. The power (śakti) of the place is about to be lost. Rituals
are not properly observed. There is mismanagement. Committee members
are fighting each others. Gods are suffering and, as a consequence, people
all around suffer. However, the astrologer makes the point, calamities in
the temple will happily disappear with the remedial measures which he
proposes.
Such a suffering, furthermore, results from human mistakes and
directly implicates temple people. Astrologers appear, at least implicitly,
in the role of investigators and prosecutors, a position that contributes
to reinforce the dissymmetry of their relationship with the committee
members and the public. A great number of nimittams — all the main
ones — are the outcome of actions by committee members or devotees:
the first sound of the query, the position of delegation, how the cakram
with ashes was drawn, what the child has done, how was the lamp lighted,
in what condition were the eight auspicious objects, what was the number
and condition of the betel leaves, etc. This means that committee mem-
bers and devotees are directly, bodily involved in all the shortcomings
that may be noticed by the astrologers. Pūjāris, in particular, are very
often the target of the astrologers’ criticism and are regularly accused to
be negligent and ignorant, in line with devaluating stereotypes circulating
widely. But they are not the only ones to get the astrologers’ disparaging
tarabout ∙ Kerala Temple Astrology 107

comments, and the judgement of the astrologers on other people, as well

as the way to act it out, may be quite severe.
In the dp conducted by D. Iyer, a part of the discussion investigated
the sentences uttered by the committee members. At the time of the “ques-
tion”, the head of the delegation started by saying ñān, “I”: the first sound
is ñ(a), which is eunuch and refers to Mars, pointing to severe problems.
Then the phrasing of the query was namukku iviṭe dēviye eṅṅane iruttaṇam,
etra dēviye iruttaṇam (“How may we install here the/a Goddess, and how
many Goddesses?”). This created a big laugh among astrologers, as the sen-
tence could be taken as meaning that there was previously no Goddess — an
additional proof of her change of identity. The phrasing was considered
significant, and the way it was acted out was very effective: the astrologers
laughed openly at such stupidity, while the attending committee members
were reduced to silence. Later, in the same discussion, D. Iyer put to scru-
tiny the condition of the betel leaves, each one corresponding with a House.
He took each leaf, one after one, holding them by the tip of his fingers and
letting them lamentably hang down, with a somewhat disgusted expres-
sion on his face: the mimicry was so expressive that it was clear, before he
said anything, that the general state of affairs was decidedly not good (1st
leaf, “there is disease”; 2nd, “the situation is one devoid of affluence”; 3rd,
“a situation devoid of prosperity and abundance”; etc.). As leaves had been
carefully selected by committee members before being given to the astrolo-
ger, the disheartening comments bore also indirectly on their own personal
ability to maintain the purity and the prosperity of the place. The audience
kept very silent.
The efficacy of the elaboration of a truth that may be accepted despite
being unpalatable is then the outcome of a complex interaction between
astrologers and their public. Authoritative statements are built through an
intricate interplay of written and oral techniques that combine for build-
ing up simultaneously proofs and asymmetrical relationships. Sanskrit
grammar and mathematics, astronomy and omens, normative rules and
observation, prediction and cross-checking, all are invoked for elaborat-
ing the interpretation. Such efficacy takes flesh in the “dramaturgy” of
the performance, in the interactions with the audience and in the rhetori-
cal devices that are employed throughout the demonstration, and which
contribute in their own right in transforming a conclusion into a socially
accepted truth.
Astrologers, however, do not speak all with one voice. They disagree
on a number of points, which are of relevance for understanding how they
themselves see their practice.
108 riss iI, 2007 ∙ articoli

Outside the performance

Astrologers caution about the need to be aware of “counterfeited coins”. As

a disciple of astrologer Shanmugham Master told me, one should stick to
only one guru in which one has full confidence. Confidence may be inspired
by various qualities. One, of course, is the sheer virtuosity with which real
masters effortlessly manage with the tools and skills that their students so
painstakingly try to acquire. Another is the ethical repute: some astrologers,
like D. Iyer, are known to never accept a payment, but only small gifts, with
reluctance. Such a disinterest for money is indicative of high spiritual quali-
ties, which contribute to make them “good” astrologers in the sense of ex-
perts, as opposed to shams. To be esteemed by disciples or clients, however,
is not the same as to be esteemed by competing colleagues. One way to un-
derstand the kind of criticism that astrologers address to others is to return
to the opposition made between the “old way” and the “modernists”.
Astrologer U. Kurup from Thrissur, for instance, disapproves of the
“modern way” though he himself practises it. It is vulgar. It gives too much
importance to nimittams and to betel examination, by contrast with former
grammatical disputes. Compared with the only interesting question that
is at the core of dps, the determination of the nature of the deity, “com-
mon people take interest in trivial things: how to conduct the festival, can
we take seven elephants [in the procession], how to collect money, how to
attract people, how to make a good entrance arch, can we have fire-works
[at festival’s time], are there problems of uncleanliness”. Moreover, modern
dps are easy to perform as it is always possible to say for all the temples
that there is pollution, that the pūjāri doesn’t do his work properly, that he
uses improper mantras, that the deity’s image has defects or is damaged,
that committee members are quarrelling, etc. As a consequence, astrologers
nowadays prescribe a lot of remedial measures, but nothing changes: effi-
cacy is not there. Only the “old way” brought actual fruits with a discussion
of minimum three days. “Modernists misguide people”. However, people
are quite satisfied! (U. Kurup, 8 April 1999).
This discourse exposes a series of criticisms about the procedure as they
may find expression in the frame of the logic of astrology. They are couched
in terms of decay from a past when such defects did not exist. This percep-
tion of change may be at least partly overemphasized (is there really the
equivalent of a “nimittam turn”? Omens are prominently in evidence in
all astrological treatises), but is stated by U.Kurup to occur also at the tex-
tual level. Many ślokas used, for instance in the case of the examination of
betel leaves, are not found in treatises. Indeed, there is a regular activity of
tarabout ∙ Kerala Temple Astrology 109

compilation and elaboration of ślokas: in Thiruvananthapuram, astrologer

K.Nair claimed to have just completed a full treatise about betel scrutiny.
In any case, the “modern way” appears to be successful with the public, not
only because everybody “is busy”. About his colleague V. Raghavan Nair
whom he considered as someone practicing “the modern view”, U. Kurup
stressed that he uses few prāmaṇas [i.e. ślokas] but gives the conclusions so
as to be understood by the common people, “exposing secrets of the family
in a direct and simple way” (id.).
A similar ideal is expressed by astrologers in the Southern part of Kerala,
but in terms of a regional difference. N. Sharma, for instance, a tantri-cum-
astrologer who participated in the dp conducted by D. Iyer, explained that
it was true that “in the North” they chanted a lot of ślokas. Here (in Thiru-
vananthapuram), “we know of course the ślokas”, but astrologers prefer that
ordinary people may follow the discussion and the conclusion, so that “there
is less chanting of poems” [ślokas] and less duration (N. Sharma, 24 March
1999). Beyond the duration of the dp and the chanting of ślokas, the question
is thus the need nowadays, for astrologers, to be understood by the public. It
might correspond to a sociological change in patronage: temple patrons in
the past were often Naṃpūtiris or royal lineages, while in present times they
are “commoners” associated in trusts. Astrologers, however, do not engage
themselves all in the same way in such a “democratisation” process.
One of its staunchest advocates is D. Iyer. He is an elderly, sophisti-
cated Tamil Brahman from Thiruvananthapuram, and has been a university
professor in Chemistry and Physics before retiring and taking to a full
time practice of astrology. He may be described as both a newcomer and a
“reformist”.28 Speaking about knowledge, in general, and astrological knowl-
edge in particular, he explained that it should not be the property of some
individuals, but that it should widely circulate (22 April 1999). He exclaimed
once: “Everything belongs to the community!” (29 April 1999). He was in
fact quite virulent about the claim of some Brahman families to remain
as the sole depositors of knowledge. His criticism aimed in particular at
Nampūtiris, whose claims to be the only ones to detain expertise in ritual
matters was not to be believed: this was only “to exploit poor people”. The
socialist slogan should be applied: “Stop all exploitation!” This was the true
dharma. The exclusivity claims by families of tantris should be abolished

28. “Reformist” is my word and should not imply a deliberate rupture with “tradi-
tion”, as he most probably sees himself as somebody trying to return to original truths that
subsequent superstitions have veiled — a standard attitude in India in relation to sciences
and the past, coherent with long-standing epistemological presuppositions.
110 riss iI, 2007 ∙ articoli

(id.). Such a strong stand is exceptional, and may be related to the fact that
D. Iyer had a guru from Ārya Samāj. It may also be understood as a claim
to legitimacy of his own position as astrologer, as he does not belong to a
family of astrologers and came late to the study of astrology. Moreover, as a
Tamil Brahman, he is not part of the ritual establishment of Kerala where
most of the tantri rights on temples (at least for all the important ones) are
preserved by specific Naṃpūtiri families.
In a mirror-like fashion, this is also how we can understand veiled
allusions made by astrologer S. Sharma, also a Tamil Brahman of Thiru-
vananthapuram but belonging to a family where astrology has been
practised for generations. He first criticized D. Iyer for having conducted
the dp mentioned despite the fact that he was under restrictions of pollu-
tion (a critique made as well by other astrologers in Thiruvananthapuram,
who seemed to have been well informed of the matter). He then explained
“it is not in one day, or in one week, or in one year, that it is possible to mas-
ter astrological science”. When he was himself eighteen, he used to go in
libraries to read palm-leaves manuscripts. He was educated in astrology
by his father and grand-father, who were great exponents (21 March 1999).
According to him, an astrologer has “to study a lot of books, it is not pos-
sible to master in one birth. […] We have to study the text, and we have to
get experience, and we have to observe everything in our surroundings. In
my case we have that from ancestry, we have got a particular mantra” (4
April 1999).
I did not have the opportunity to interview Naṃpūtiri practitioners.
Together with some families of Tamil Brahmans (like S. Sharma), they are
the ones who have a long ancestry in astrology in Kerala.29 Hence I have
to rely on partial information. Claims to ancestry in astrology are still cer-
tainly important, and can be found in ordinary discussions (“this astrologer
belongs to a traditional family of astrologers”), in newspapers’ reports or in
the presentation of books’ authors (Śankaragaṇakan, 1981). Many reputed
astrologers belong to such families, and I met a few. But this strikingly con-
trasts with the amazing number of newcomers today. Among the eleven
astrologers I talked to, there was D. Iyer, a retired university professor, an
employee of the Spatial Centre in Thiruvananthapuram, a retired executive
officer of the Kerala Sate Electricity Board, a retired executive officer of a
lignite company, a retired senior officer in the Government Department of

29. With the exception of a low-status caste of Kerala astrologers. But to the best of
my knowledge they do not participate in dps.
tarabout ∙ Kerala Temple Astrology 111

Education, a retired full-time political militant, a retired Railway superin-

tendent, and a retired high school teacher. None did belong to a “traditional”
family of astrologers, and many had come late to astrology, first as an “inter-
est”, then as a full-time activity. I also had the occasion to meet two persons
working in a tuition institution in astrology, the Jyotisha Parishad in Thris-
sur: both were newcomers and had taken recently to this profession. This
is also in line with the ubiquitous development of astrology courses that
are offered to “interested” people. It suggests that there is an important
sociological transformation currently taking place (something noticed also
for Sri Lanka by Kemper 1980). In this perspective, D. Iyer may be seen as
just one example of a more general democratisation of astrological practice
in Kerala, while the hold that certain families may have had on its trans-
mission is being shattered. This seems true also in terms of caste: today’s
practitioners do not belong solely to the different Brahman sub castes, but
may be members of any of the castes of local “good” status. A few of them
belong also to the toddy-tapper caste that was formerly below the line of
untouchability.
This dissemination of astrological knowledge and practice may be
related to various factors: the development of education; the availability of
printed treatises and information, the circulation of which cannot be con-
trolled as was the case with manuscripts kept in families; the availability of
money due to employment in the Gulf countries; and the increase in tem-
ple buildings, temple rituals, and general consumption of symbolic goods
that this money enables. Astrology takes its share in this evolution, and
appears as a profession both prestigious and promising. At the same time,
its claimed rationality is pronouncedly attractive. As Shanmugham Master
put it when speaking about the greater number of dps nowadays, “there is
more interest in science” (12 April 1999).
The circulation of printed books and the multiplication of newcom-
ers of all strata of society, some of them partly self-taught, pave the way
for some heterogeneity in astrological truths. Here again, D. Iyer exem-
plifies in his idiosyncratic way what is mostly for the time being a mere
potentiality. All astrologers in Kerala, “newcomers” as well as members of
families of astrologers, share some views about ritual matters, for instance
regarding the importance of Māndi-Guḷikan, propitiated for averting evil
and considered foremost for elucidating praśnams, or regarding ghosts
such as Brahmarakṣassu, installed as guardians in many high caste tem-
ples. By contrast, D. Iyer regarded all this as mere superstitions, nay, as
abominations. He considered that the book by Śankaragaṇakan was doing
much harm “because of all the nonsense printed”, in particular the story
112 riss iI, 2007 ∙ articoli

of Guḷikan that ends it: “such things are horrible” (29 March 1999). For
similar reasons, he considered that the most used treatise on rituals, the
tantrasamuccayam, was “one of the worst compilations, it shows how badly
a book can be written” (id.). He did apply his conceptions in the dps he
conducted, with the result that some ancestors disappeared from temple
precincts, being reclassified as ghosts (Tarabout 2001).30 However, D. Iyer
was alone in his opinions, though his disciples would never challenge him
on his decisions (“it is his opinion” would merely say one of them). But
the very current process of democratisation of astrology entails the pos-
sibility of a diversification of astrologers’ opinions according to their own
philosophical and religious thinking — and therefore a diversification of
the possible truths they may discover and impose in a dp.
Books may be able to break former monopolies of ancestry or to open
to possible religious diversity. Their importance in astrological practice,
however, is rather consensual. Both S. Sharma and D. Iyer, as different
as they could be, had their small office room crowded with accumulated
books (compare Guenzi 2004). That knowledge is fixed in books (or, for
traditional Naṃpūtiri families, in manuscripts) is not open to debate. In
contrast to the transmission of Vedic texts or of mantras, and at variance
with the training in āgamic texts currently found in Tamil Nadu (Fuller
2001), oral transmission does not so much concern here memorization per
se, or intonation, than the necessity to understand the texts.31
Of course, memorization is required. The dynamics of the discus-
sion preclude any reading during the séance, except in very exceptional
circumstances: for instance this was done for making obvious the correct-
ness of Rājarājeśvari identification when one of the astrologers read aloud
the corresponding verse in a book, adding thus a supplementary proof
to the conclusion. More commonly, “everything should be in the head”.
But books, whether in physical form or in the head, do not suffice. All

30. dps certainly cannot be said to always develop reformist views. On the contrary,
there are instances when the recommendation is to return to practices that had been abol-
ished due to the action of reformist movements (for instance hook-swinging — see India
Today, Kerala Edition, 7 April 2004).
31. The role of a guru in the transmission of knowledge is not at the front of astrolo-
gers’ claims to expertise. Some were occasionally mentioned to me, and publications may
detail their names for a given author. But I hardly find in my notes any development about
their role as can be met for instance about musicians (not to speak of members of devo-
tional groups). Transmission of knowledge for traditional families is done within the family,
while newcomers attend tuition courses or frequent a few masters, rarely confining them-
selves to a single one.
tarabout ∙ Kerala Temple Astrology 113

astrologers add that textual knowledge has to be complemented by divine

blessings. For V. Raghavan Nair, there are hundred of thousands of books,
so that “it is a most complicated science, no wonder if it goes wrong”;
therefore, the protection and inspiration by gurus and gods is necessary,
the astrologer himself has to acquire some divine quality (hence his other
name, dēvajñan — 10 April 1999). This is also what others underline: “See,
mastering the textbook is essential, but we should have meditated on a
particular deity always. Only the help of that particular deity will give
you intuition. Only through intuition can one say things properly” (S.
Sharma, 4 April 1999); “You need god’s blessings for choosing between
different rules. Good practice and unconditional surrender to the subject
and to God enable to determine appropriate positions” (N. Sharma, 24
March 1999).
Not only do astrologers often appear themselves covered with devo-
tional marks, but the whole procedure of the praśnam is imbued with
ritual. There are various cults to the tools, the planets and the signs;
ritual purity is required; the astrologer meditates and recites mantras
for a long time before the start of the ceremony; the drawing of cowries
is always done while murmuring a mantra; the laying of the gold coin
associates mantras and prayers of the whole audience; reports always
include propitiating stōtrams. Moreover, the whole logic of the process
is placed under the gods’ will and actions: they send signs. Astrology
is a science, but a divine one, and mistakes are averted through god’s
grace. Where astrologers differ, then, is about the source of this divine
blessing. Is it necessary to belong to an astrologers’ family for obtaining
the appropriate mantra? Or is it enough to surrender unconditionally to
God, a devotional path open to all? This is an old alternative in India. As
printing and tuition courses have enabled virtually anybody to become
an astrologer, there are clearly tensions regarding what exactly ancestry
means. But it should be remarked that in spite of these tensions, new-
comers, even of comparatively low ritual status, get full recognition in
the context of dps and may conduct them as chief astrologer, while a
Naṃpūtiri from an astrologers’ family may act as his assistant. Authority
in the (astrological) śāstras has effectively become an ambition opened
to most castes.

Conclusion

Authoritative statements in Kerala temple astrology result from a com-

plex interactive process. There is a widespread consensus on the scien-
114 riss iI, 2007 ∙ articoli

tific character of astrology32 as combining astronomy, mathematics, and

Sanskrit authoritative treatises. In this respect, written sources are at the
core of all the astrological expertise, be they śāstras or printed almanacs.
As such, there is no felt opposition between orality and writing. How-
ever, dps are effectively live performances, in which memorization and
discursive skills are absolutely crucial. There is debate among experts
and consensual final judgment. These skills help in bringing the conclu-
sions of the astrologers to the public, i.e. an hyper-technical complexity,
ślokas in a language that is generally not understood, condescending
explanations, scrutiny of temple staff and committee, accusations of
malpractice in ritual and management that meet with stereotypes. In
addition there is systematic recourse to cross-checking procedures and
to tangible proofs (including charts, book-notes or printed books).
In spite of this accumulation of proofs and arguments, doubts may
persist after a dp, though they may not necessarily have been expressed
during the discussion. There are a few indications of this. Firstly, astrolo-
gers are quite critical among themselves, for reasons that often pertain to
sociological changes, and can voice their disagreement in various contexts
(U. Kurup mentioned to me the case of a temple where a dp had changed
the deity, but was explicitly contradicted by a later dp which reinstated the
deity in its former self). Secondly, reputations may go up and down due to
reasons which are difficult to ascertain, but in which may play the degree
of consensus reached about an astrologer’s conclusions. Thirdly, the com-
mittee may not always implement all the measures recommended; I could
not check for the dps which I witnessed, but there are many reported cases
of partial or “delayed” implementation. Fourthly, the frequency of dps in
some temples is such that their repetition may point towards an implicit
dissatisfaction of the committee with the preceding dp’s conclusions, and
towards the hope to obtain a better deal while abiding by the rationality of
the procedure. And lastly, there are instances of outspoken outcry after a
dp, which get publicized in newspapers. One concerned the 1995 dp about
the Śabarimala temple, the chart of which has been provided above. While
the report enumerated the usual weak points (“the pūjāri and his assist-
ants have to serve the Lord with greater devotion”) and stressed the need
for a greater respect of purity rules, two conclusions came under attack.

32. This does not mean there is unanimity in Kerala: Christians, officially at least,
denounce astrology as superstition, as did also intellectuals when a Union Government of
the Hindu right introduced University courses in astrology.
tarabout ∙ Kerala Temple Astrology 115

One was that it confirmed the interdiction to enter the temple made to
women aged between 10 and 50 years: this was criticized by associations
taking the case to the High Court of Kochi, which upheld the dp. The
other was that it allowed the project of developing a heliport, which was
criticized by orthodox people and environmentalists alike, who suggested
that astrologers participating in this dp had been prevailed upon by the
Travancore Devaswom Board.33
Doubts and contestations do not aim at the logic of the dēvapraśnam,
but at particular conclusions and particular practitioners. Building up
truths in this context is an unending process. Despite scholarly knowledge,
painstaking precautions and remarkable skills, despite the deep respect
shown to astrologers, the authoritativeness of astrological statements in dps
is never fully assured because the procedure is unwittingly totally sensitive
to the social surroundings. Dissatisfaction may develop and push the tem-
ple committee to go once more through the whole procedure — ascertaining
again and again the truth.

33. The exceptionally high stakes that the Sabarimala temple represents in Kerala
society has made it an arena for recurrent disputes. The last one concerned a DP conducted
in June 2006, immediately contested by the temple’s main ritual authority and becoming
a new High Court case decided in October of the same year; see for instance http://www.
nerve.in/news:25350018366
116 riss iI, 2007 ∙ articoli

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 1. Dēvapraśnam in Thiruvananthapuram, 21 March 1999. In the fore-
front on the right, the board with cowries, and on the left the chart
drawn with ashes in which a pūjā has been performed by a tantri (in
the middle). In the background, disciples noting down data.

2. Dēvapraśnam in Thrissur, 11-13

April 1999. A Naṃpūtiri “churns”
cowries before making a draw. On the
board, planets are indicated by addi-
tional cowries and shells.

3. Example of longitudes and chart indica-

tions preserved in a final report. Page 2 of
the 13 pages report for a dēvapraśnam per-
formed in 1988 at the Airanikkulam main
temple.
4. D. Iyer is commenting on a betel leaf. 5. Cover of an astrological Malayāḷam
Thiruvanthapuram, 21 March 1999. publication (Jyōtiṣaratnam, “The Jewel
of Astrology”). The confidence-inspiring
portrait is of a Tamil Brahman belonging
to a family of astrologers.

6. The chief astrologer, a Naṃpūtiri Brahman from a family

of astrologers, is praying as the very proceedings get con-
tested by astrologers (mainly “newcomer” Nāyars) in the
audience. Thiruvananthapuram, 5 April 1999.