The legend of Behula-Lakhindar at the heart of Ma Lo Ma, the viral Coke Studio Bangla song

As a millennial child growing up in North Bengal, a lot of my life was spent outdoors. In our rain-infested town, you stumble upon snakes, small and large, venomous and harmless in every walk of daily life. One paid a visit to my mum in the kitchen. One slithered out of dad's helmet on a slimy July day. No one was allowed to hurt or kill a snake. If it crawled next to you, you waited for it to leave. No one wanted to risk the curse of Ma Manasa. The goddess of snakes in the Hindu pantheon.

Manasa was an irascible goddess. Such was the reverence and fear of her that we were not allowed to utter the word 'shaap (snake)' after sunset. You had to think of harmless alternatives like 'lata (climber)', 'dori (rope)', and what not. The reason was simple: you don't piss off Manasa. You wouldn't want the fate of Chand Sadagar.

A viral Bangla hit

But before we get to the story, we're talking about this story today because of a certain Bangla song that has taken over Instagram Reels and YouTube this week. It's called Ma Lo Ma, a Coke Studio Bangla song by Pritom Hasan, Sagor Dewan, Arif Dewan and Aly Hasan.

While the song is a ballad about life and the years in general, it starts with a chorus that speaks of the legend of Behula, Lakhindar, and Manasa.

"Kaalir nayanjale buk bheshe jaay // ki saanpe kamrailo amar durlabh Lak-ar gaaye
Kothay Ma Manasa // tomay pranam janai"
"(My heart sinks in the deluge of Kaali's flowing tears // what wicked snake has bitten my precious Lakhindar
Where are you, Ma Manasa // I bow to you in reverence)"

Okay, now back to the story.

The Goddess vs The Trader

Chand Sadagar and Manasa couldn't see eye to eye. Chand worshipped Shiva. Manasa wanted the same status as the goddesses worshipped by the upper castes: Lakshmi, Saraswati. But Manasa was the god of snakes; not quite on the same level as the goddess of wealth or the goddess of knowledge.

Manasa wanted Chand to worship her. Chand did not want to, and in a fit of rage, told Manasa that no one would ever worship her on Earth if he did not.

Manasa was not the one to give in to such threats. In return, she cursed Chand with no lineage. She also told him that his empire would be destroyed.

Manasa saw her curse through. She made her snakes kill six of Chand's sons one after the other on their respective wedding nights, and reduced his empire to ashes. But then there was a seventh son.

Chand did not want to take any chances on his seventh son's wedding night. So, he got an impenetrable iron wedding chamber built for his son Lakhindar and his bride Behula.

Manasa, meanwhile, appeared in the dreams of the architect and forced him to leave a little hole in the iron walls. For Kaalnagin to slither in to Lakhindar and Behula's bed.

The devotion of Behula

Behula stayed up all night, protecting Lakhindar from any invertebrates that were to crawl in. However, she dozed off at some point. Kaalnagin seized her moment. Lakhindar screamed. Behula threw her jaanta (betel cutter) at Kaalnagin and spliced her tail off. Lakhindar lay dead in the iron wedding chamber.

Back in the days of yore, the victims of snakebite were not cremated the usual way. They were floated out on rivers on rafts.

Netai Dhubuni Ghat in Dhubri is a prominent tourist sport besides the river Brahmaputra.

This place has certain mythical and historical significance to it and according to mythology, Netai Dhubuni helped Behula to revive her husband Lakhindar from the Dead. pic.twitter.com/kijWysQNct — Rituparna Baruah (@Rituparna39) January 31, 2023

So, Behula, along with Lakhindar's corpse, set sail on this raft for the heavens. She had only one agenda on her mind: pleading with Manasa and bringing Lakhindar back to life.

The legend of Behula and Lakhindar is set in the ancient kingdom of Champaknagar, and Behula's raft sails across erstwhile Bengal, encompassing Bangladesh, Bihar-Jharkhand, Assam, and Bengal; all of these places that today know and revere Manasa.

An undying love story

After sailing for nine months with Lakhindar, suffering people's taunts and uncertainty of ever seeing her love again, Behula finally makes it to the gods in heaven.

Her dance pleases the gods, including Manasa, who agrees to relent on one condition: Behula's father-in-law, Chand Sadagar, will have to worship Manasa. Behula gives her word to Manasa and returns to Earth.

Chand Sadagar surrenders. He uses his left hand to give 'anjali' to Manasa; his right reserved for Shiva. Manasa is won over. The serpent goddess returns Lakhindar, Chand's six other sons, and his empire.

Manasa, since the reconciliation with Chand, became a much-worshipped deity on Earth.

Manasa, the subaltern serpent goddess, is mostly worshipped in mercantile and agrarian families in eastern India and Bangladesh.

The love story of Behula and Lakhindar, meanwhile, is spoken of in the same breath as Manasa. Behula's undying love for her husband, the rivers she sailed through to get him back, are all cited as examples of willpower and perseverance against the most difficult of gods and odds, through ages.

When you hear Ma Lo Ma now, you know who to think of.