Commenting Identity: YouTube Comments on a Bhagavad Gita Pepaosan Performance

June 2025

Omri Ganchrow

In contemporary Bali, the tradition of pepaosan—a bilingual performance of sacred texts—has found a new home online. Traditionally performed in temple ceremonies, pepaosan now appears on YouTube, where performers chant Sanskrit verses then render them into Indonesian or Balinese, line by line. This “oral interlinear translation” combines melodic structure with textual interpretation, allowing performers to engage with scripture in ways that are both artistic and didactic.

As this tradition migrates to digital platforms, it also enters new arenas of visibility and debate. Performances that were once circumscribed by ritual settings are now subject to the commentary of anonymous viewers. These digital interactions often reveal more than just audience appreciation; they become a space where religious identity, authority, and belonging are negotiated. A particularly interesting example comes from a comment section of a pepaosan performance of the Bhagavad Gita¹. where questions of sectarian identity—specifically around the Hare Krishna movement—are raised and carefully managed by the performer.

 

The performer, who uses the channel name Widhi Sastra, had uploaded a video chanting verses from the Bhagavad Gita, with a melodic macapat meter and an interlinear explanation in Indonesian. The performance is simple and sincere, sung from the heart quietly as an act of devotion.

In the comment section, a viewer writes:

Bhagawad Gita adalah sabda Sri Krisna kepada Arjuna...Hare Krishna (HK) tidak dinaungi di Hindu Indonesia.... bagaimana pendapat anda tentang hal ini Rahayu semoga kita semua tercerahkan oleh chenal ini.

Translation:

‘The Bhagavad Gita is the word of Sri Krishna to Arjuna ... Hare Krishna (HK) is not included in Hindu Indonesia... what is your opinion on this?  Peace (upon you), may we all be enlightened by this channel.’

This comment does several things at once. It acknowledges the sacredness of the text, affirms Krishna’s authority, and simultaneously questions the place of the Hare Krishna movement (ISKCON) in the context of Indonesian Hinduism. The mention of tidak dinaungi di Hindu Indonesia implies an institutional exclusion, possibly referring to the fact that ISKCON is not officially recognized by Parisada Hindu Dharma Indonesia (PHDI), the primary Hindu organization in the country. The tone, however, is not confrontational—it ends with a Balinese blessing, Rahayu, and a hope for collective enlightenment. This suggests a desire for clarification or agreement, not condemnation.

Widhi Sastra responds:

rahayu... saya tidak bisa menanggapi hal terkait hk... dsni saya hanya menyalurkan hoby saya me-gita (nyanyian), karena bukan hanya menyanyikan sastra ini saja yg dapat karma baik. mendengarkan pun juga mendapat karma baik... mohon di-subscribe dan juga di-share... biar saya lebih semangat lagi upload sloka demi sloka.²

Translation:

‘Peace (upon you)... I can’t comment on anything related to HK... here I’m just sharing my hobby of the Gita (singing), because it’s not just singing these scriptures that brings good karma, listening also brings good karma... please subscribe and share… so I can be even more motivated to upload verse by verse.’

This response is notable for its deliberate avoidance of diving into group identity politics. Rather than affirming or rejecting the Hare Krishna movement, the performer reframes the act as personal, devotional, and karma-generating—both for the singer and the listener. The emphasis on hobi ‘hobby’ is not merely casual; it distances the act from institutional authority and aligns it with individual spirituality.

A third commenter then interjects with a seemingly out-of-place remark:

Bacaan Al-Qur'an saja
‘Just read the Qur'an.’

This seems like a dismissive or provocative, particularly if read as a suggestion that Islamic scripture should be read or recited instead. However, the performer replies without defensiveness:

klo bisa saya baca alquran mungkin saya akan nyanyikan…
‘If I could read the Qur’an, maybe I’d sing it...’

This disarming reply shifts the conversation once from confrontation to framing the question as a problem with linguistic and musical ability, rather than religious boundaries. The tone is light, in order to defuse potential tension.

What can this brief but layered exchange tell us about religious identity and digital performance? First of all, YouTube comment sections are informal yet powerful spaces where religious boundaries are negotiated. While the Bhagavad Gita performance itself may seem apolitical or purely devotional, it becomes a springboard for viewers to discuss larger issues of who belongs in which religious group.

Additionally, Widhi Sastra’s position is delicate. As a performer, he is visible, yet he avoids assuming theological authority – maybe because he is uploading a video of himself singing in macapat meters, which is unusual and puts him in a contrasting position to the state’s authoritative pepaosan. His defense stating this is his hobby sidesteps doctrinal disputes and presents performance as inclusive. This aligns closely with what we might call a Devotional or Spiritual-Movement’s Performer identity, and thus it makes sense he is trying to avoid the question about ISKCON, who are not so well-liked in Bali.

An especially interesting moment in the reply is the equal valuation of listening and chanting. This shifts religious merit away from the performer of the practice toward the participation of the audience who gain merit from listening, including through media consumption, thus spreading bhakti through YouTube in the digital age. This continues a much older tradition in which audiences of public readings of manuscripts also gained merit from listening.

The Qur'an comment and the performer's response show how cross-religious engagement  - even attempts at provocation - is navigated with care in the performer’s hands. Although it is unclear whether his response is mocking gently or expressing reverence, he manages to avoid an argument about which holy book should be read aloud, and thus which religion is better.

This exchange was an example for how traditions, when placed online, encounter new audiences, new interpretations, and new frictions. Online pepaosan operates in a space where devotional intent must coexist with institutional politics, hobby-singers and performers, and interfaith discussions. This layering of voices in the comments mirrors the interlinear nature of pepaosan itself, where meaning emerges not from a single line, but from the dynamic interplay between recited text and translated response.

Thus, through the added meanings of the comments layer we learn that this performance generates karma, provokes discussion, and—importantly—reminds us that even in the pixelated corners of YouTube, identity remains in motion, verse by verse, comment by comment.

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¹ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ti-9h2NPw68&t=400s

² All comments are cited as written online, including grammatical or spelling mistakes, capitalization, abbreviations, slang and so on.