Behdienkhlam: Meghalaya’s Dance of Renewal and Resilience
When July arrives in Meghalaya, clouds hang heavy with rain and fields glisten with freshly sown crops. It is at this moment that the Pnar people of the Jaintia Hills gather for one of the state’s most vibrant and prime celebrations ––– the Behdienkhlam Festival, a centuries-old tradition that blends faith, harvest and community into a grand spectacle of colour and rhythm.
Literally meaning “driving away the plague”, Behdienkhlam embodies both a practical and spiritual aspiration: to banish disease, evil and misfortune, and to invoke good health and bountiful harvests. The Pnar community, belonging to the Jaintia tribe, sees it as more than just a ritual; it is a reaffirmation of their identity, resilience, and bond with the land.
The festival unfolds over several days, and its most striking feature is the grand procession of decorated bamboo structures called ‘Rots’, carried through the streets of Jowai. These towering frames, wrapped in colourful cloth, flowers, and intricate motifs are mobile works of art that attract both locals and visitors alike. As the Rots are taken in procession towards the sacred Aitnar pool, accompanied by drums, flutes, and collective dancing, the atmosphere transforms into something at once celebratory and sacred. The final immersion of these structures into the pool symbolizes renewal ––– the letting go of negativity and the welcoming of abundance.
While the festival has unique customs rooted in Khasi-Jaintia mythology––– particularly invoking the protection of deities against pestilence ––– its deeper spirit resonates across cultures. The act of purification, renewal, and invoking prosperity is a theme seen in many traditions. For instance, it recalls the fervour of Tamil Nadu’s Aadi festival, where offerings are made for prosperity, or even North India’s Holi, where the burning of Holika represents the destruction of evil before the joyous celebration of colour. Each, in its own way, mirrors Behdienkhlam’s central idea: that communities must come together to shed the old and invite the new.
The timing of the festival in July is significant. Having just completed the sowing of crops, the people enter a liminal space between hard labour and hopeful anticipation. What better moment to pray for protection, health, and divine favour than at this threshold? It is also a reminder of humanity’s dependence on the cycles of nature urging us toward humility and gratitude.
Swami Vivekananda once said, “Religion is not in doctrines, in dogmas, nor in intellectual argumentation; it is being and becoming, it is realization.” The Behdienkhlam festival is a living demonstration of this idea ––– it is not confined to temples or texts but flows into the very streets, into music and movement, into the soil and the rain. It shows that spirituality, at its core, is communal, embodied, and life-affirming.
Western philosophers, too, echoed similar truths. Friedrich Nietzsche spoke of the ‘eternal return’, the cycle of renewal through destruction and creation ––– an idea one can see in the immersion of the decorated Rots, where beauty is dissolved into water only to allow new life to emerge. The American transcendentalist Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote, “The creation of a thousand forests is in one acorn.” Behdienkhlam reminds us of this universal truth: that the smallest seed, sown with prayer and intention, holds within it the promise of abundance.
Ultimately, Behdienkhlam is more than a festival of the Pnar people ––– it is a message to the world. It teaches that disease, despair, and evil can be driven away not by fear, but by collective joy, faith and resilience. It reminds us that communities thrive when they celebrate together, honouring both their ancestors and the earth that sustains them.
As Meghalaya dances in the rain in July, the Behdienkhlam stands as both a prayer and a proclamation: that life, despite its trials, is meant to be celebrated in rhythm, colour and unity.
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In this edition of Ka Jingshai, we are delighted to feature a diverse collection of voices that explore the cultural and spiritual heart of our land. We present the myth of U Syiem Lakriah and the origin of Behdeinkhlam and Laho Dance, explored by Dr. Omarlin Kyndiah, along with a poem on Behdeinkhlam in Khasi by Padmasri Silbi Passah. We invite you to delve into an exclusive interview with the legendary author Ruskin Bond, where he shares his intimate connection with the hills and his timeless advice for young writers. Also featured is No Names by Dr Janice Pariat, a piece that suggests the Khasi community's history and identity are preserved through traditions tied to music and names derived from the natural landscape. Beyond cultural mythology, the spiritual heart of our land is further explored by Bijoya Sawian in her article, "RAM - THE DIVINITY WITHIN”.
The Hindi section features poignant poems that are sure to resonate with our readers. We also have a special feature, "'बी विद अ बीकन' - एक शाम डॉ मुक्ता के साथ", an engaging interview with Dr. Mukta, whose literary contributions continue to enrich the Hindi literary landscape.
We hope these contributions, along with the other articles and creative works in this issue, will inspire and enlighten you. Keep sending your valuable suggestions.
