WEIRD LITTOLE ME..=)

Traditions and restrictions.

“What do you think you’re doing in here you stupid girl!! Don’t you have any sense???!!! Your mother is foolish I know.. should have never allowed him to marry a working woman., women aren’t meant to work” this speech was inflicted onto me by my aunt, my father’s sister when I was caught in what is known as the “God’s room” or “holy room” in most houses. We were visiting her home… which was my father’s childhood home for  the celebration of a festival. I was attracted by the beautiful idol placed there as well as the charming decorations surrounding him.

The idol was placed on a beautiful pedestal made solely of what looked like gold and a humongous platter of the choicest sweets and savories were placed in front of him. It’s always been a mystery to me this platter… the platter is always filled with the best of all my favorite sweets.. and once by mistake I tried to pick up one up and eat it... the beating I got that day is not one I’m likely to forget anytime soon. It was then that I learnt that the platter was not to be eaten from it was an offering to the Lord.

The thing that always puzzled me was that the sweets , all those beautiful untouched delicious sweets were later  taken out of the house in the evening and thrown in the spring nearby. At that very moment my aunt grabbed me by the hand and roughly and  pushed me out of the room  into the hall area . I tripped over the stone steps and fell. As I fell I saw her eyes go wide when she saw my behind. I assumed she felt guilty for treating me badly. I was by this time sobbing and screaming for my mother.

Unfortunately she was not there at the moment… she had left us.. me and my older sister in the care of this creature in order to help my grandmother who was bedridden and wanted certain flowers to be offered to the Lord for the hope of  the success of me and my sister in our lives. She had specially requested the priest who would arrive that evening to help her pray for us. My grandmother was a beautiful woman who truly cared for her grandkids and unfortunately had little clue of the creature that existed in her home.

My shrieks were interrupted by my aunt’s shrieks. “She's impure” she shrieked  “ she’s impure and I touched her!!!” my aunt then proceeded to find a stick and literally chased me away from the house. She forced me into the little hut nearby which housed the cattle and told me to sit there . I saw her pick up some cow dung and rub it over herself and beg for the Lord’s forgiveness for she did not know that I was “impure”. By this time I was thoroughly confused and began screaming and trying to get out of the shed. She locked the door but used a cloth to lock it, refusing to touch it. I began hammering on the door screaming for my mommy, screaming for my sister for anyone, I had no idea why my aunt was doing what she was doing.

The cattle shed was quite a long way from the house and no-one passed it unless they wanted to go to the fields. The field hands normally came only in the early mornings during the festivals. I knew one of them would come along to feed the cattle eventually but that might take hours, and judging by the amount of food placed before the cow, they might have already come and gone. I was sure my mother or my sister would miss me soon enough, but still that might take an hour in the least.. My father was away,  visiting someone in a neighboring village. I was frightened and scared. I was 12 years old.

That was when I noticed something dripping from my pants onto the shed’s mud floor. They were drops  of blood , dark red , almost brown. It was then that I looked down and realized that I was dripping blood. I had no clue why I was doing that and I was really scared.. for a moment I thought I was dying. That was when I really started screeching, and that was when my mother returning from the garden heard me.

She ran to the shed unlatched it and saw me in my state. She picked me up blood and all and went into the house. My mother was no fool, she knew then on the first shot what I was unaware of at the time.

That in India a woman’s period is considered to be a disgusting thing, something to be avoided and covered up. That when a woman is undergoing her menstrual cycle she is considered “impure” not to be allowed within the house kept aside and certainly not to be allowed anywhere near the idol. Menstruating women are not allowed to enter places of worship by our religion.

My family is in reality of Hindu origin and my name in this work is simply a pseudo-name.. In my own home that is in my immediate family we are not staunch  however there are people in the smaller villages or even in some larger towns who follow all these beliefs, as did my aunt, in their minds they are not doing anything wrong, infact they are doing something right, my aunt herself follows the rule and puts herself in the veranda during her own period, she was crueler with me because it was festival time and the house must be made even more cleaner ( so to speak) so that the blessings from the Lord will be showered on the home and everyone who occupies it.

My mother calmly sat me down in the room that we were occupying in  the house and explained what a period was, she then taught me to use what we call a pad, which is like a sheath of cotton enclosed in a plastic wrap. She then petted me and told me a few stories. I fell asleep with my head in her lap.

I never knew what happened after that but although my aunt never came near me everyone else treated me with extra caution and love, my grandmother cuddled me closer and more often , my sister was not as cruel with her taunts {she is 5 years older than me and seems to think that it means that she can treat me like her personal slave.} My mother was the same never ending reservoir of annoying nagging and love although she too seemed to have little heart in her nagging and let me eat whatever I wanted whenever I wanted.{ I was and still am a very picky eater.}

I did notice though that although I never went near my aunt and she avoided me, everyone else avoided her to, except my mother who gave her a look of pure rage if she ever came close to me.

The shit hit the ceiling { so to speak} the day my father returned from town, mom softly explained everything that had taken place in his absence and suggested we leave as soon as possible. It had been 3 days and I think I had somehow managed to block the pain, or maybe I just blocked it out now… I do remember my father rushing into the kitchen where my aunt was cleaning the dishes and yelling at her in a tone I had never heard him use before.

I had not seen my father in days and on hearing his voice I had rushed into the kitchen to find him yelling at my aunt, with an expression on his face that I saw for the first time that day and have seen on a few occasions since then ,and I sincerely hope to never see it again { it scares the shit outta me} he gets the look that I imagine a sleeping dragon would get if you stepped on his tail. I’m pretty sure he scared my aunt to, ‘cause to this day she has never mentioned the incident and she has definitely been nicer to me ever since.

Of course we left that same day. Back home I forgot about the incident.

Ironically the festival that we were attending was in celebration of Lord Ganesha. The Lord of wisdom and knowledge. Irony at its prime.