The day broke with the strong presence of the sun felt all around. The sharp rays of the sun scorched mercilessly the infant sky in the early hours of the day. No fleck of cloud struck the vision anywhere in the sky. The radiant sky foreboded the ruthless heat waiting on the day ahead. An early morning shower however gives a fleeting respite from the heat and generates a feeling of freshness. But for some it is ritualistic to take bath in the morning to feel an aura of purity all around; a holy act to wash down all the sins scrubbing the body with soap and water through and through and an act to be boasted of harping it in everyone’s ears in the family. But I finished my bath on that sweltering day with a wish to have a feeling of coolness, of freshness and of course to pay my allegiance to the sense of hygiene. But I do not know whether the ablution of the body can rinse the mind of all the dust of iniquity that accumulates over it.
A weak ploy but owned selecting a light coloured dress to beat off the robust heat outside. My eyes rested on the light blue dress after I opened the cupboard and draping me in that I boarded a cab. It was half an hour’s ride through the deserted road of Sunday that carried me to my destination. The moment I stepped in the house, I felt a superimposed sanctity there. The incense burnt there very strong thickening the air making it difficult to be breathed in and the eyes felt burning sensation.
The couch puffed with conceit was still occupying the centre of the room in the house and hence never failed to draw my attention towards it. The scanning eyes found it to be in a threadbare condition and saw it revealing its woody structure here and there. It was the old lady’s couch in the house that earned the reputation of being assertive with a disinclination to leave its place since its entry in the house and thus sidelining the daughter-in-law’s wedding gift of a fresh and smooth sofa set from her parental home to the far end of the hall. The couch had its hallmark of purity having three or four times’ cleaning daily and even driving away the women from its vicinity during their periods.
The vision laid all around gave the perception that an extra effort was undertaken spending a long time for a complete ablution of the house including its each and every object. The task possibly required to erase some other chores from the schedule of the day to complete the job with all the focus laid on it in order to create a vibe of holiness. The house and its objects with all their sparkles and shines produced an awful ambience of purity. The floor of the house reflected the walkers’ shadows on its board and all the contents of the house kept on flaunting their luster from all sides.
The customs and traditions, vied with all their might with the purity that the house bragged of, to make also their presence felt on that special day of the event, baby shower. Hence, starting from the way one dressed to the food served, it was an earnest attempt to keep the tradition alive everywhere at least on that day. Hence, all the women strutted in mekhela sadors (the traditional Assamese wear), with heavy work, defying all the hassles confronted in moving and the heat that the day seared with. The kitchen of the house was guarded by men and they engaged themselves in cooking wearing gamochas, the traditional Assamese towels. Taking up the responsibility of the kitchen by men was also felt to be an aid seized to upkeep the sanctity of the occasion keeping at bay the apprehension of the kitchen being defiled by any woman with her periods.
The gourmet was really an appreciatory one tickling everyone’s taste buds to the traditional dishes; the applause was received by the parents of the daughter, in her seven months’ pregnancy, sponsoring the banquet in her in-laws’ house. The compliment was but earned by her parents at the cost of their facing financial crunch in the rest of the month after giving the party. The feast covered an elaborate menu of black lentil’s gravy, mashed potato, mashed pumpkin, fish cooked with bamboo shoot, khar (a traditional Assamese cuisine) made with unripe papaya and green leaves boiled and fried. Fowls were also slaughtered and cooked in Assamese style such as chicken cooked with banana flower and duck meat with wax gourd. The meal winded up with the sweat dish; serving curd, soaked flattened rice and jaggery all together. The occasion was a day for some to gorge and those abstemious in eating were nervous at the rapid flow of the dishes, one after another on the day.
After the feast was over, everyone took up the effort to drive away the sloth overtaking them in the hot and silent afternoon. Yawns were suppressed and the guests tried to see them rejuvenated all through the occasion of showering blessings upon the expectant lady. The lady was going to bless her husband’s family with their first grandchild. The lady doubled of her maiden size toiled to sit on the carpet, spread over the floor, with the aid of other women. The females congregated for the occasion blessed the lady in a ceremonious style, often uttering the clichés used in such occasions. The gifts chosen sensibly keeping in view the requirements of the newborn and of the mother after childbirth were also handed to the lady.
The ceremony of baby shower came to a stall abruptly and that was because a red mark, which stained the dress of somebody was noticed. The red stain, in the manner of red rag inciting the bull into a fight with the matador, drew the ire of the people assembled there in the house towards the bearer of that mark. The elderly ladies, all clad in white mekhela sadors – the spectacle of whom evoked the panorama of white swans on clean water- were burning with ire. The arrows of disdain and anger shot at the woman with the stained dress made her ooze sweats of embarrassment from her forehead. The humiliation that she felt piled upon her by the detestations that she received from all the quarters of the house made her dare the heat outside and leave the indoors.
All the wraths towards the lady in her monthlies sprang from the inconsistent belief that the presence of women with their periods on any auspicious occasion is foreboding and spoils the sanctity of the event. Therefore, the sight of the red stain stirred up an ominous feeling of the idol of sanctity being shattered in the house. The idol was felt to be invoked with the cleanliness and purity achieved with painstaking effort as well as with the holy disposition, owned being traditional on the occasion. The hurly burly act of mopping the immaculate floor once again and sprinkling holy water on each and every object in the midst of complains buzzed, strived to hold the shattered pieces of sanctity together and drive away the demon of sacrilege at the earliest, believed to be conjured by the menstruating woman. But the fiend of inconsistent superstition that actually succeeded in creating the feeling of being desecrated still possessed and soiled the mind and smirked at all the efforts undertaken to restore holiness to the house and its objects.
The ceremony of baby shower was taken up once again after the completion of the act of purification of the house that was thought to be violated by the monthlies of the lady. The fruit of fertility in the womb of the expecting lady was blessed copiously but that was done ousting the woman with her periods from the occasion as profane who was in her reproductive age, capable also to bear the fruit of fertility in her womb.
…………Dr. Fathema Begum
Very well written. Yes, society has it’s own monstrosity.
Long time supporter, and thought I’d drop a comment.
Your wordpress site is very sleek – hope you don’t mind me asking what
theme you’re using? (and don’t mind if I steal it?
:P)
I just launched my site –also built in wordpress like yours– but the
theme slows (!) the site down quite a bit.
In case you have a minute, you can find it by searching for “royal cbd” on Google (would appreciate any feedback) –
it’s still in the works.
Keep up the good work– and hope you all take care of yourself during the coronavirus scare!
Thank you so much.
Hi there, just wanted to tell you, I enjoyed this blog post.
It was inspiring. Keep on posting!