There were also days and months
of fun and laughter. That was when the
uncles, aunts and cousins, came for their summer vacations to Mysore. 43 Nazarbad was like a beehive during those
days. All my uncles and dad would sit in
the large hall upstairs, playing cards, drinking a funny smelling liquid which
later I learnt, was liquor. Ma and my
aunts would be busy in the courtyard, cutting vegetables and cleaning
rice. In the background, one could hear
Harini and her calf mooing, the little bells around their neck tinkling every
time they nuzzled each other. We were
twenty odd cousins of different age groups, running around, playing hop scotch
and chor/police. Come evening, we would all run to the park
nearby and rush back at sundown to wash our feet and sit around the Tulsi plant. Grandmother would teach us slokas and then give us dinner. This was the best part of the day. She would mix rice and thick sambar in a huge vessel and give each of
us a ‘ball’ of rice by turns. The ones
who ate fast got more. It was a tough
competition as my boy cousins could out eat us every time.
I really pity the kids of today,
especially the single ones, who have to be coaxed, coerced and manipulated into
eating their food! It would be story time after dinner with grandmother,
telling us about the feats of Krishna and the devotion to duty of Rama. What a glorious finale to a fun-filled
day. We would roll out our beds on a big
straw mat spread in the courtyard, falling asleep as the stars twinkled down-
another night of peaceful slumber.
I dreaded the day of departure
of my cousins, especially Brinda. Brinda
and I were like twins. We did the usual
girlie stuff like play ‘house-house’ and try to look grown up in our mothers’
saree. We were the unpaid baby sitters
for our younger cousins and we tried to bully them like grownups. All they did was tattle to their mothers and
get us into trouble. So much for helping
adults! Brinda was the brave gal and I
the timid one. She was learning music
and could make pretty dolls out of sea shells.
Everyone praised her and I would feel a wee bit jealous. But she was such a good friend that I forgave
her for being better than me.
GROWING UP
Little did I know that my
childhood days were numbered. When I was
barely ten, I ‘matured’. This was a big
event. I had seen my aunts and Ma being
confined to a room upstairs every month for three days. Food was sent to them and they would be out
of circulation. On the fourth day, they
would have an oil bath and get back to the mainstream. Brinda and I would pretend to be like them and
sit in a corner. Well, my turn came
sooner than it should have. It was no
fun for a ten year old girl to be confined to a corner every month. Grandmother made me eat all sorts of gooey
stuff like a blob of ghee on a banana every morning and cream of wheat dripping
with ghee and sugar for breakfast. It
was supposed to build up my reserves during ‘those’ days. My male cousins riled me and Vasuki made my
life miserable wanting to know why I had to be kept away and not Brinda. Gosh, how I envied the boys for getting away
from it all. A special function was
arranged, inviting friends and relatives, to greet me. I was dressed like goddess Saraswati and made
to sit on a pedestal.
This was to announce to the community
that I am eligible to be married! The
only nice thing about all the fuss was the gifts and cash I got. It is amazing how I feel totally emancipated
in spite of my going through all these ridiculous rituals. Even today, this confinement of women during
the menstrual cycle is practiced in many homes.
It is humiliating to say the least as a personal happening is proclaimed
like a public event. It is the women
themselves who perpetrate this antiquated system. Originally, it was meant as a rest period for
women as they could get a break from physically exhaustive chores like grinding
and pounding.
How I dreaded this horrible
practice when we lived with my in-laws.
There I was, a successful professional, making waves in my career and
yet, month after month, I had to go back to the same old system of announcing
to all and sundry that I was a full blooded woman! Little wonder I did not have the slightest
whiff of depression when Nature stepped in and saved me from the ignominy. Hot flashes, night sweats, mood swings. Anything is better than the public
announcement!
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