Festivals through Tales by Rani Jhala
WHITE IS FOR PURITY
Ma and I, had a horrible row, this morning. It was a simple thing, yet it became so complicated. I was the one who was going to wear the sari, I was the one who was going to be made up like a doll and paraded in front of some man and his family, so why shouldn’t I have the choice of what I was going to wear?
My aunty brought me up since I was six. She could not have children, so she adopted me. I had everything I wanted. And everything I treasured. The most important of which was her love. She was there for me at every step. Often children would complain about their parents at school, and I would get upset, because I had nothing to complain about. Don’t get me wrong, I am not an ungrateful child, I am a young woman who simply adores ‘ma’. It’s just that, ‘ma’ has this thing about seeing me married before she dies. And I have ‘this thing’ about seeing her live, till I am married.
I am 24 years old, and you would think, I could find my own partner. Everyone thinks I am going to be left on the shelf. Even my friends, who are either married or engaged, feel the same way. One of my friends, conspired with my ‘ma’ and set this meeting up
When I heard about the talks, I quietly rang the boy up. Dhananjai, that was his name. I told him that I was not interested in getting married. He replied ‘ neither am I’. Phew, I thought, my worries are over. I asked him if he could tell ‘ma’ himself. His answer had been ‘only if you do the same and tell my mother’. So we ended up agreeing to go through this charade. We would meet, then say we were not interested.
I had seen a movie in which, this boy’s family were coming to see this girl Her sister who did not want her sister married off decided to dress her up in such a way, so as to ensure that the boy would definitely reject the proposal. Thus, the sisters would not be separated. I decided to use that plot in my plan as well.
That plan, is what caused the argument this morning. I wanted to wear white. As you know in most communities in India, white is considered an inauspicious colour. While it stands for purity and innocence, it also stands for mourning. Widows are often seeing wearing that shade. People, who renounce life such as the spiritualist and the sages, choose this colour. Hence when there is a happy occasion, people prefer bright shades.
The new generation is slowing introducing all the shades into their daily life however the last generation still strongly adheres to the ‘code of colours’. Ma, belonged to that, last generation.
I used every excuse I could. I said it stood for peace, as in the white dove. That, the rarest of every species, was the white kind as in tigers and the peacock. That divine light was considered white, etc. Ma asked me to stop behaving as a child. Where do you find a child who can think as rationally as I did?
Finally I won. I argued the point at her level. You see Ma loved the epic, the Mahabharat and her favourite character after Krishna, was Arjuna, the second of the five Pandava brothers, and the closest to Krishna. Arjuna always wore white. Ma, could no longer say no, though she did ask me to ensure that the sari had a bit of gold or silver embroidery work on it. I promised I would abide by that desire.
At 4.30 p.m. on the dot, Dhananjai arrived with his family. Dressed in a kurta of pure white, he walked in with this cheeky grin. Ma had told him of my game, and he was matching my step.
Innocently he asked, “Why the white sari?
‘It’s my favourite colour’, I lied, annoyed at his game.
‘‘That’s funny, its mine too.” and with that he took his seat, that impish grin never leaving his face.
I looked as Ma, as I followed everyone in, “How could you tell him? I asked.
“What was I supposed to do? He rang up, wanting to know what you were up to. And it was you who really cleared up any reservations I may have had, about this marriage”
“How?” I asked.
“You spoke of Arjuna. Silly girl, Arjuna’s other names include ‘one who is attired in white’. Another is Dhananjai. I took this as a sign that this marriage was meant to be’
“I totally agree with you, ma, This is exactly what I told her on the phone” Dhananjai had suddenly appeared by Ma’s side. Was he joking or lying?
Then, both of them laughed, as if they were sharing a common joke.
‘Well you both won’t be laughing, when I arrive in a white sari, at the wedding.’
I was cross now.
Without a flicker of an eyebrow, Dhananjai replied ‘Ma, maybe we better set the wedding date during the Holi festival. By the time my bride arrives at the ‘mandap’, she will be techicoloured.’
Another laugh was shared between them, a quick wink towards me and he returned to his family.
Ma hugged me, and said ‘He is just right for you. He knows you better than, you know yourself’ Then laughing continued “Lord Krishna, help your poor Dhananjai. He wants to marry her, but he really doesn’t know what he is in for.” With that, she too joined the group.
Well, well, well, the evening is still young, I still have to perform a lot of the routine tasks, including, bringing the tea cups all neatly set on a tray, along with the variety of eatables, gulab jamuns soaking in syrup, and as per tradition, I will need to serve everyone, and well , accidents do happen and ....
As if Dhananjai read my thoughts, he came up and said, ‘Tea in your hands is far too dangerous. Make mine, milk ’
THE END.
Ma and I, had a horrible row, this morning. It was a simple thing, yet it became so complicated. I was the one who was going to wear the sari, I was the one who was going to be made up like a doll and paraded in front of some man and his family, so why shouldn’t I have the choice of what I was going to wear?
My aunty brought me up since I was six. She could not have children, so she adopted me. I had everything I wanted. And everything I treasured. The most important of which was her love. She was there for me at every step. Often children would complain about their parents at school, and I would get upset, because I had nothing to complain about. Don’t get me wrong, I am not an ungrateful child, I am a young woman who simply adores ‘ma’. It’s just that, ‘ma’ has this thing about seeing me married before she dies. And I have ‘this thing’ about seeing her live, till I am married.
I am 24 years old, and you would think, I could find my own partner. Everyone thinks I am going to be left on the shelf. Even my friends, who are either married or engaged, feel the same way. One of my friends, conspired with my ‘ma’ and set this meeting up
When I heard about the talks, I quietly rang the boy up. Dhananjai, that was his name. I told him that I was not interested in getting married. He replied ‘ neither am I’. Phew, I thought, my worries are over. I asked him if he could tell ‘ma’ himself. His answer had been ‘only if you do the same and tell my mother’. So we ended up agreeing to go through this charade. We would meet, then say we were not interested.
I had seen a movie in which, this boy’s family were coming to see this girl Her sister who did not want her sister married off decided to dress her up in such a way, so as to ensure that the boy would definitely reject the proposal. Thus, the sisters would not be separated. I decided to use that plot in my plan as well.
That plan, is what caused the argument this morning. I wanted to wear white. As you know in most communities in India, white is considered an inauspicious colour. While it stands for purity and innocence, it also stands for mourning. Widows are often seeing wearing that shade. People, who renounce life such as the spiritualist and the sages, choose this colour. Hence when there is a happy occasion, people prefer bright shades.
The new generation is slowing introducing all the shades into their daily life however the last generation still strongly adheres to the ‘code of colours’. Ma, belonged to that, last generation.
I used every excuse I could. I said it stood for peace, as in the white dove. That, the rarest of every species, was the white kind as in tigers and the peacock. That divine light was considered white, etc. Ma asked me to stop behaving as a child. Where do you find a child who can think as rationally as I did?
Finally I won. I argued the point at her level. You see Ma loved the epic, the Mahabharat and her favourite character after Krishna, was Arjuna, the second of the five Pandava brothers, and the closest to Krishna. Arjuna always wore white. Ma, could no longer say no, though she did ask me to ensure that the sari had a bit of gold or silver embroidery work on it. I promised I would abide by that desire.
At 4.30 p.m. on the dot, Dhananjai arrived with his family. Dressed in a kurta of pure white, he walked in with this cheeky grin. Ma had told him of my game, and he was matching my step.
Innocently he asked, “Why the white sari?
‘It’s my favourite colour’, I lied, annoyed at his game.
‘‘That’s funny, its mine too.” and with that he took his seat, that impish grin never leaving his face.
I looked as Ma, as I followed everyone in, “How could you tell him? I asked.
“What was I supposed to do? He rang up, wanting to know what you were up to. And it was you who really cleared up any reservations I may have had, about this marriage”
“How?” I asked.
“You spoke of Arjuna. Silly girl, Arjuna’s other names include ‘one who is attired in white’. Another is Dhananjai. I took this as a sign that this marriage was meant to be’
“I totally agree with you, ma, This is exactly what I told her on the phone” Dhananjai had suddenly appeared by Ma’s side. Was he joking or lying?
Then, both of them laughed, as if they were sharing a common joke.
‘Well you both won’t be laughing, when I arrive in a white sari, at the wedding.’
I was cross now.
Without a flicker of an eyebrow, Dhananjai replied ‘Ma, maybe we better set the wedding date during the Holi festival. By the time my bride arrives at the ‘mandap’, she will be techicoloured.’
Another laugh was shared between them, a quick wink towards me and he returned to his family.
Ma hugged me, and said ‘He is just right for you. He knows you better than, you know yourself’ Then laughing continued “Lord Krishna, help your poor Dhananjai. He wants to marry her, but he really doesn’t know what he is in for.” With that, she too joined the group.
Well, well, well, the evening is still young, I still have to perform a lot of the routine tasks, including, bringing the tea cups all neatly set on a tray, along with the variety of eatables, gulab jamuns soaking in syrup, and as per tradition, I will need to serve everyone, and well , accidents do happen and ....
As if Dhananjai read my thoughts, he came up and said, ‘Tea in your hands is far too dangerous. Make mine, milk ’
THE END.