FS: Book 1 – Chapter 2
It was 4:00 AM. The onset of winter was just starting to make the early air chilly. The sun got lazier now that autumn had been fleeing, resulting in a rather dark dawn. ‘Get up Kalo’, her mother-in-law whispered. 9 year old Kalo rolled over, and kept her eyes shut tightly. If only she could sleep for a few more minutes she would be ready for the day. ‘We are getting late, come on’, this time her mother-in-law gave her a little push, and even sounded a bit offended. Kalo sprang up on the bed, not daring to disobey any further. Her mother-in-law helped her jump off the bed.
Like every other morning, they walked down the mud path behind their house towards the forest. That is where their pond was situated. That is where, Kalo knew you had to go to if you needed to use a bathroom. Of course their mud house didn’t have any sanitation facilities. The whole village had their own areas of private or shared forests and ponds (depending on their financial strength) behind their own houses which was used by all members of their families. Kalo’s mother-in-law handed her a aluminum mug which she filled with water from the pond before proceeding a bit further behind one of the large trees. Twenty minutes later, a dripping Kalo stepped out of the pond. She sprayed the water in her mouth mixed with the ash she used to brush her teeth with, and skipped up to her mother-in-law, who was waiting for her with a clean dry cotton saree in her hand. The reddish sun, now peeping shyly from behind the trees, finally started to warm her up. The men of the household would now start waking up. Kalo had once innocently asked her mother-in-law the reason why they had to go so early, to which her mother-in-law’s eyes bulged in surprise. ‘You can’t be seen by any man Kalo, women have to get cleansed before the men wake up!’.
Kalo’s husband Jogen had two brothers – Brojen and Noren, both of whose wives were elder than Kalo. Those two ladies had the tasks of helping in the kitchen and serving food to the men in the household before they left for their work. Kalo being the youngest, didn’t have any job assigned. Her mother-in-law was rather fond of her and took care of her almost like her own daughters – Buri and Gouri. After the men left, the women had their breakfast in small bamboo bowls. Kalo’s mother-in-law often slipped in fried potato balls in Kalo’s plate along with Gouri’s, which raised the eyebrows of the other two daughter-in-laws. Kalo sneaked some of them to Buri at times. Buri and Gouri became Kalo’s best friends in this new home. She spent almost all day playing with them, making mud toys, dressing mud dolls with torn clothes, and faking execution of elderly duties. Gouri was 12, but her pregnancy had slowed her down considerably. For more than 5 months she was here at her parent’s place carrying. Her husband had come to visit her once a couple of months back. Buri was 14 but there was a weird kind of fear and gloom about her. Buri wore white clothes only, never wore jewellery or the red little mark on her forehead that all the other women wore, survived on a strict vegan boiled diet, and sat alone at a distant corner of the room, far from everyone else when she ate. Although once in a while Buri sneaked out with Kalo to collect tamarind and eat them with a little mustard oil and salt.
One day while playing, Kalo fake cooked fish and tried to serve the girls, to which Buri jumped up and away from them. Even Gouri seemed to turn a bit stiff. This broke Kalo, she was curious about Buri and asked her point blank ‘Why do you wear white always? Why don’t you eat with us?’. Buri raised a finger to her lips, her face looked pale. ‘Come to my room after lunch’, she whispered through the corner of her room and instantly rose and went inside.
Buri’s room was smaller than the one where Kalo stayed with her mother-in-law. But it was still neat and organized. Poor Gouri looked tired. She was already sleeping soundly on the bed when Buri laid out the long mat on the floor. Kalo lay down beside Buri, and snuggled closer against her warmth as Buri talked.
4 years back Buri had her big fat wedding in the city. Two weeks later Brojen had cycled to her in-laws house and informed them – her grandmother was in a serious condition, she wanted to see Buri one last time before departing from this world. Buri was shocked when she came back to her fragile grandmother. The woman was on her death-bed, hardly being able to recognize people. The family priest was called to take a look at her. Seeing her gasping for mere breath, the priest had pronounced ‘The end is near. The Lord will grant her eternal peace any moment now’. 4 days passed. Buri’s grandmother was still alive, still frail and gasping. This time the priest said ‘Death is not being able to approach her. The whole family is guarding her by being around her bed all the time, keeping her in her own room. Take her to the riverside and set her up to wait for death there’.
A number of young men took up the responsibility, and Buri’s grandmother was carried to the riverside with an almost festive excitement. A bamboo scaffold was set up on the banks on which the dying woman’s bedding was set up. The boys set up small tents to camp nearby where they chanted prayers day and night asking the Lord to have mercy on the old woman. Buri’s grandmother was laid on the scaffold without a cover on her dirty cotton saree in spite of the chilling breeze. She wasn’t served a morsel of food or a drink of water. In short anything that could discourage death from approaching her was avoided. Another 4 nights passed. On the fifth morning everyone saw the shriveled up woman lying motionless, her eyes and mouth open staring at the sky. People from near and far had come to see her. They folded their hands and raised them to their foreheads, praising the Lord for relieving the old lady from all mortal agony.
Funeral has always been a big event for the Hindus. Buri’s dead grandmother too had her share of prayers and food and people over the next few days. Buri was preparing to welcome the guests on the last day of the ceremony, when she came to know that a messenger from her in-laws place was looking for her. A man she never saw before told her mother that Buri’s husband had passed away from pneumonia the previous night. Before she could realize her married life, it got over. That day Buri’s life got colorless, and her food tasteless.
A year and half had passed since Kalo came to live in with her in-laws. One morning Kalo started feeling sick and giddy. Intermittent stomach cramps made her leave her playmates and wander to the forest behind their house. A short scream escaped her when she noticed blood on her thighs, and her cotton saree. Her heart beating loud, Kalo came back and shared the horror story with Buri. Surprisingly Buri didn’t think it was unusual. She just grimly told her ‘Í have to tell mother. Come with me’.
Suddenly everyone started advising her and instructing her seriously. Her mother-in-law handed her a bunch of clean but torn pieces of clothes and told her to follow Kunti, their maid. A stout dark and pretty middle aged woman Kunti looked somewhat intimidating to Kalo as she followed her to the forest. A little far from the pond was a small bamboo hut with thatched roof, slightly hidden from the path they usually walk in. Kunti pulled Kalo inside the hut and explained her as much as she could about menstruation. Once a month from now onward this hut would be Kalo’s private place to change and cleanse. Kunti taught her how to fold the cloth napkins, when and where to dispose them, and what to do for the next 5 days. Three times Kunti bulged her eyes and warned Kalo not to go to the pond during this time. ‘When that pond was dug, the family priest had come to inaugurate with the holy prayer service. You are not supposed to defy it for these 5 days’. Kunti would bring in buckets of water from the pond for her for bathing and sanitation. All along explaining stuff to Kalo, Kunti kept her nose and mouth covered with the end of her sari.
These 5 days were the gloomiest days in Kalo’s life ever since she stepped in this house. She was not allowed to touch certain things in the household, not allowed to go near the food that the rest of them ate, not allowed to participate in any kind of in-house work. She washed her own clothes and hung them inside that doomed hut. She was made to sleep on the floor mat separately, not with her mother-in-law like always. Even her food comprised rice and vegetable soup only, and that was served by Kunti (not Brojen’s wife who serves the rest). Kalo felt lonely, abandoned and unwanted. Above all she was in pain and constantly felt uneasy. After 5 days, Kunti took Kalo to the pond and helped her bathe from head to foot with water and white mud. She was then given a fresh sari and granted the permission to get back to normal life.
Another 3 months rolled. The same routine was repeated. She was being alienated for 5 days a month, cast into misery. And then one day after the third month of her periods, Kalo was given a new red saree and heavy gold jewellery. She was decked up pretty by all the women in the house; they seemed to find something funny and kept giggling now and then. Kalo couldn’t help recalling her wedding day. It seemed to be something that had happened long ago, in another time, involving other people. And yet she noticed there was a difference in the method of celebration. Kalo was taken upstairs to the room of her husband Jogen ceremoniously, conch shells blowing repeatedly behind her. A grand dinner was arranged to celebrate her entry in Jogen’s room. From now on Kalo would live in this room, sleep beside this man she married.
The room was bigger than any of the other rooms Kalo has been to so far. A large bed with exquisite wooden carvings stood majestically against the south facing windows. The windows were big and had wooden shutters closing them. The west wall was carved to form racks for a wooden cabinet filled with books. Illiterate Kalo stared at them in awe, her small brain trying to grasp the magnitude of her ownership over the room. At one corner a dim hurricane burned relentlessly, creating a magical glow that filled up the whole room. Another corner had a pair of wooden sandals that Jogen wore when he stepped out. Kalo slowly approached the high bed that her father had given at her wedding and felt the soft silk bed cover against her fingers. The girls giggled together and helped Kalo climb the bed, she was too short to do it herself. After the rest left, Kalo noticed Jogen standing beside the bed, looking at her intently. She stiffened for a moment realizing the strong presence of her new roommate. She had hardly seen or talked to this man before, her heart was hammering rather fast. Suddenly she jumped off the bed, and not knowing what else to do she pulled her sari on top of her head, bent down low and touched the feet of her husband. Jogen put his hand on her head and blessed her with a smile ‘Stay Happy’.
