Tika Jali

These curious and enigmatic objects from India, variously known as ‘sectarian body stamps’, ‘chhappa’, and ‘tika jali’, are used by Hindu Vaishnavite devotees (and sometimes Shaivites) to express devotion to their deities and to transfer to themselves some of the gods’ power and beneficence. The stamps are dipped in paste made from white sandalwood, kaolin clay, or red rudraksha seeds, and applied to the body, often after a purifying bath. Most old ‘tika jali’ stamps, unless they have been cleaned and polished for sale as antiques, carry remnants of the paste, and some still have a faint scent of sandalwood.

Vaishnavite symbols include the sun, the lotus, conch shell, the circular weapon known as a ‘chakra’, and a mace; all of them are frequently found on body stamps, as are ‘padaka’, the footprints of Krishna and other incarnations of Vishnu, as well as a variety of short devotional texts. A single piece may be composed of many such symbols. Manufactured in both north and south India, their place of origin can usually be determined only through their scripts, which are usually written in reverse, but most come from Orissa and West Bengal, and all were made using the ‘lost wax’ process, starting with the intricate fabrication of wax models, which were then cast in brass. On the back were added supporting structures that ended in short pierced handles, strengthening the stamps and making them easier to use. A set could be strung together on a ring. Most of the examples that are found today have some age, but single stamps or sets, often thinner and more crude than the older ones, can still be purchased by pilgrims in bazaars near temples or shrines.

It is said that ‘tika jali’ stamps were sometimes heated to burn permanent marks on the body, but more often they were used to make temporary paste tattoos, not unlike ‘mehndi’, the henna decorative patterns that are often applied by Indian women to hands and feet on festive occasions. Very close to designs that are common in North Africa and the Middle East, ‘mehndi’ were probably introduced to India by Muslim Mughals and are the result of confluence between two cultures. The same might be said of ‘tika jali’, because ’tika’ comes from the Hindi word ‘tilak’, which refers to the coloured mark or spot, usually on the forehead, that is so frequently found in India, and ‘jali’, which literally means ‘net’, is the name of the intricate ornamental openwork in wood, metal, and stone that was also brought to the subcontinent by the Mughals. In architecture, an open latticed ‘jali’ cuts out the sun’s direct glare and compresses the air that flows through it, making the inner space almost invisible and much cooler than outdoors. ‘Jalis’, often used as screens by both Mughal and Rajasthani women, were also frequently to be found in tombs and sacred buildings, and at their elegant best, they are beautiful examples of Islamic patterns and calligraphy, playing on ambivalent oppositions of darkness and light, openness and separation, and presence and absence.

A text that appears on some of the brass stamps is the famous ‘Hare Krishna’ mantra, which was first popularised by Chaitanya, the 15th century Indian saint who is often considered to be an incarnation of Krishna himself. Chaitanya and his followers, who worshipped their god with song, dance and chanting, had a profound effect on subsequent Vaishnavism in Bengal and Orissa, where most of the ‘tika jali’ stamps come from. This current of religious devotion, known as ‘bhakti’, spread far and wide, mingling with other sources and appearing in different forms, including that of the Bauls of West Bengal, wandering ascetics who sing and dance their prayers, celebrating spiritual love but expressing it in earthy terms. The Bauls, many of whom remain active today, were a deep influence on the Bengali poet and polymath Rabindranath Tagore, who was drawn to their devotional folk songs and their longing for oneness with the divine. Tagore also loved and translated the poetry of Kabir, another 15th century mystic and saint, who grew up in a family of Muslim weavers before becoming a disciple of the Hindu sage Rāmānanda. Although inspired by both Hinduism and Islam, Kabir could be critical of both, and while they were often passionately ecstatic, his verses were always grounded in a robust sense of independence and relish of everyday life.

Close to my heart are those who sing of Hari;

In the dust of their feet, their devotee,

A weaver’s son, possessed of a weaver’s patience.

I’ll clap my hands and sing of Hari,

says Kabir.

In my own time.

(From ‘Songs of Kabir’, trans. Arvind Krishna Mehrotra)

A short documentary on the Bauls: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L-KUUDi11R0