Each of Bhaktapur town's 200 or so music groups has its own rituals and functions. This is an account of how the members of one such music group tap the divine energy of the music deity Nasadyo.
It is almost midnight. The goat has been locked in the potting shed and we are waiting for our drumming students to sneak into the garden and steal the animal for the music God Nasadyo. Ganesh Bahadur and I have been training die six students for the past four months. They are young farmers from our neighbourhood who have almost passed their apprenticeships in dhimay drumming. As with all other forms of traditional Newari music and dance, musical apprenticeship requires die students to be initiated into the cult of Nasadyo, the source of musical knowledge and inspiration. In Bhaktapur, Nasadyo has a destructive counterpart called Haimadyo which is responsible for the mistakes in music. Haimadyo needs to be pacified with regular blood sacrifices lest the music degenerates into cacophony. During the learning period, both Gods reside in a niche in the practising room where they receive daily worship and offerings. Ideally, sacrificial animals are supposed to be stolen by the music students. Nasadyo has a weakness for thieves, it appears. Thus, a good drummer needs to be not only naughty but courageous as well.
It is a peaceful night, everybody is asleep. From the verandah overlooking the quiet garden, Ganesh Bahadur and I pass die time, sipping rice beer from clay bowls. Our dhimay students were too scared to really steal an animal, so we decided to stage it. The goat was purchased in the morning and carefully tied to one of the trees in the garden below our lookout. The students plan 10 use a small tractor parked by the garden wall as their staircase. It all seems too easy. After our third cup of rice beer, Ganesh Bahadur and I climb down, untie the goat and lock it in the potting shed. Just to make it a little more real.
While refilling our bowls for the sixth —-or was it the eighth? — time, things begin to stir below. The tractor emits a creak and shadows seem to flow over die garden wall. Then, a stunned silence. Eager whispers indicate a crisis conference. Where is the goat? Scouts swarm out to investigate the darker nooks of the garden. Then the bleating of the goat from inside the potting shed. Conspiring with the thieves, silly beast! The door is broken and muffled cries of triumph follow.