Paryushan Meets Rishi Panchami: Festival Mashup Alert

Imagine the heavens urging you to pause, and an entire community obliging.
Paryushan Parv isn’t just another festival for Jains—it’s a deeply transformative experience. It’s a time when Jains around the globe step away from the hustle of daily life to embark on a profound journey of self-reflection, penance, and forgiveness. This sacred period, marked by deep introspection, rigorous fasting, and heightened self-discipline, is more than a ritual; it’s a spiritual sabbatical.

But how did it all begin? Picture ancient Jain monks, wandering barefoot along monsoon-drenched paths, pausing as the rains forced them to seek refuge. For four months (Chaturmaas), they stayed in one place—what better opportunity to cleanse the soul and sharpen the mind than when even nature herself was renewing?

For Jains, Paryushan is all about purifying the soul and absolving accumulated karma—a true spiritual detox that goes far beyond any trendy juice cleanse or fad diet. Over a period of eight days (for Shwetambars) to ten days (for Digambars), and sometimes even stretching to a month or more, they dive into a strict fasting regimen—forget food, not even a sip of unboiled water is allowed. Only "faasu pani" (boiled and sieved water) between sunrise and sunset keeps them going through this turning-inwards phase.
During this period, Jains gather at 'sthanaks' or 'Jain Mandirs,' listening to spiritual discourses and, most importantly, practising Pratikraman—a conscience cleanse so thorough, that even a therapist would be impressed. It’s a time for deep reflection, sincere repentance, and honest renewal.

The grand finale? Samvatsari—the big day when Jains embark on a universal apology spree, seeking forgiveness from each other and all living beings for any harm caused through their thoughts, words, or actions. It’s like hitting the "reset" button on their karma. They recite:

"Khamemii Savve Jiva,
Savve Jiva Khamantu me,
Mitti me savva bhesu,
Veram majjhamna kenai.
Michhami Dukkadam,"

which translates to, "I ask forgiveness from all living beings; may all living beings forgive me. May all ill-will be gone and may no grudge remain." It’s their way of sending out a grand “mea culpa” to the universe and atoning for the same!

But "Michhami Dukkadam" isn’t just a casual apology—it’s a profound declaration of intent. This phrase, meaning “may my bad deeds be rendered fruitless,” embodies the very essence of Paryushan. The festival is about more than merely acknowledging mistakes; it’s about unlocking the heart, ensuring your thoughts are pure, your words are kind, and your actions are compassionate.

Despite understanding the depth of "Michhami Dukkadam," I must admit that I often find myself sending out a flurry of apologies via broadcast lists. While some of these apologies are genuinely heartfelt, let’s be honest—many are just ritualistic formalities. My 'Michhami Dukkadam' message, painstakingly designed on Canva, often boils down to a broad “Sorry if I’ve offended you,” with a hidden caveat like, “I hope this covers everything from being genuinely busy to intentionally ignoring your messages.” It’s my way of issuing a universal apology, just in case I’ve inadvertently wronged anyone in any conceivable way.

Note to self: Sending the same message or forwards to broadcast lists and WhatsApp groups is a bit like giving your house a quick clean by shoving everything into the closet—it might look neat on the surface, but the mess is still there. So, instead of relying on a hasty “Sorry if I’ve offended you” next year, I should invest in real soul-searching and heartfelt apologies. True apologies go beyond a quick fix; they come from the heart, genuinely address past wrongs, and capture the core spirit of Paryushan. It’s about making meaningful changes and touching lives, not just ticking a box.

Interestingly, Samvatsari coincides with Rishi Panchami, a Hindu festival dedicated to honouring the seven great sages, or Saptarishis. Both celebrations fall on the fifth day (Panchmi) of Shukla Paksha in Bhadrapada, just a day after Ganesh Chaturthi. So, while Jains are busy with their introspective “spiritual tune-ups,” many Hindu women observe Rishi Panchami—a day dedicated to honouring the sages through specific purification rituals.

If Rishi Panchami sounds like a new entry on your festival calendar, let me fill you in— Traditionally, Rishi Panchami is a day when women undertake a ritual to purify themselves from any “sins” supposedly committed during menstruation. Yes, you read that right—like the cardinal sin of accidentally touching sacred items or daring to step into the pooja room while deemed 'impure'. Fasting and prayers are the tools used to scrub away these so-called “impurities” from their cycle. It’s a bit like trying to hit the cosmic reset button while the world watches because nothing screams “spiritual renewal” quite like a reminder of your “impurities” wrapped in a cloak of ritualistic penance.

As a woman, I can't help but question the rationale behind these rituals. How can a festival demand penance for something that is an intrinsic part of being a woman? It's almost insulting to turn a natural and life-giving process into a source of shame. The tradition seems to have lost its way, convoluting its own purpose and casting a shadow over womanhood. Intended to honour great sages, the festival instead reduces menstruation to a spiritual blunder. It’s infuriating and feels like a cruel joke—turning a beautiful aspect of life into a source of shame.

Isn’t the true essence of honouring the Saptarishis about celebrating their wisdom and teachings? So how did this festival become entangled with concepts of menstruation and “impurities”? Did we incorporate these elements through misguided interpretations? Rather than clinging to practices that feel out of touch, shouldn’t we focus on embodying the values the sages taught—truth, knowledge, and devotion? What if we redefined the day to reflect their teachings and honor the wisdom that laid the very foundation of Sanatana Dharma, rather than perpetuating practices that may no longer hold relevance or respect for anyone?

These are my reflections, offered with the deepest respect. My intent is to provoke thoughtful discussion, not to offend or diminish anyone’s beliefs.

And then there’s Paryushan. Don’t get me wrong—asking for forgiveness is a profound practice. But isn’t it a bit simplistic to think that saying, “Oops, sorry!” can absolve everything we’ve done wrong over the past year? Can we really bundle up all our mistakes into one “Michhami Dukkadam” and move on as if nothing happened? It’s almost as if we’re trying to fast-track our way to absolution without truly addressing the deeper issues.

It's intriguing how Paryushan and Rishi Panchami, though seemingly different on the surface, share a common thread. At their core, both festivals are about transformation. Paryushan emphasizes self-purification and forgiveness, while Rishi Panchami focuses on connecting with higher wisdom. Ultimately, isn’t that what penance and forgiveness are truly about? It’s not about punishing ourselves for our humanity, but about acknowledging our mistakes and evolving into better beings.

So why have these profound concepts been reduced to rigid formalities over time? Women are asked to fast for a natural biological process, while people expect to resolve a year’s worth of transgressions with a single phrase. It’s as if we’ve turned deep spiritual practices into mere checklist items, stripping them of their true essence and turning meaningful rituals into hollow gestures.

The essence of penance and forgiveness extends far beyond these surface-level rituals.
Food for thought: penance and forgiveness are crucial for improving our interactions with others and ourselves. We all make mistakes and sometimes hurt people, whether intentionally or unknowingly. As much as we might wish otherwise, it happens. Life is inherently messy. What truly matters is how we learn from these experiences and grow. True penance isn’t about superficial gestures; it’s about genuinely addressing our errors and striving to become better individuals.

Forgiveness? That’s a whole other level of grace. It’s not just about uttering a quick “sorry” or hearing someone say it to you. Forgiveness is about genuinely letting go—releasing the grudges and bitterness that weigh you down. It’s about freeing yourself from anger, resentment, and the burdens of the past.

Today's Thought-Provoker: Why wait for designated days to hit 'refresh' on our lives? Are we so trapped in our routines that we neglect regular soul cleansing? Imagine if we took charge of our 'spiritual maintenance' year-round—how might this shake up our approach to personal growth and self-improvement? Time to stop saving transformation for special occasions and start making it a daily habit.

Imagine a life where we let go of grievances more often and extend forgiveness without conditions—where penance becomes a sincere act of release rather than just a ritual. Isn’t that the heart of true transformation?
Perhaps, just perhaps, this is the profound lesson these festivals were meant to impart all along.