HOLY  HOLI!

I loved the Tyohar of Holi . The demon father,Hiranyakashipu, the pious son  Prahlad, his love for Vishnu and his do or die attitude really fired my imagination. His dare devil, no nonsense ‘bhakti ‘ was too good to be true. His father was jealous of his Vishnu fixation and tried his best to make him toe his line , to no effect. Finally to teach the father a lesson the 6^th or 7th avatar of Visnu happened.   Narasimha avatar… But before that Prahlad had to tackle his aunt Holika who had a boon that she wouldn’t burn in any fire. Alas, his father’s wish literally backfired! Holika burnt to a cinder while Bhakt Prahlad survived the flames! What a towering inferno was Prahlad.

I was born a Dalit and school was something I wasn’t allowed to go to. But my mother had somehow managed to wheedle my father to allow me to go to school. The government school . It opened up a whole new world for me. A whole new vista.

 It made me see a lot of things in its right perspective. Mathematics , history ,the Puranas….our oppressed background. Along  with the bookish knowledge, I also realized that I needn’t be the bride in waiting. Waiting for the man in my life to arrive and make me complete. Adorn me with sindoor and mangalsutra and fulfill me with motherhood. I was drilled from childhood to keep myself pure for him, to keep him happy for in his happiness lay my survival…..My dreams to be someone were not even considered.

 “ I knew educating her would make her dream of the impossible” screamed my  father.

 My whys were not answered. So I was married …though I had wanted to go to college. I had done so well in my  PU too. But Bhartiya nari that I was I dried my tears and got ready to a life of drudgery….My  lowered eyes were not allowed to be raised or to expect.

My martyr phase in life began, I did everything for my husband and his family, which comprised of my  ma in law, my bro-in law,his wife, one younger bro-in-law and my sis- in law. My father-in law had died long ago.I cooked the dal the way my sasural liked, made the  tea, the rotis, did the cleaning. I tried my  best to make their life comfortable , I wore saris they approved of, went to places they asked me to . My likes and dislikes were swept under the chatai along with my books…My identity was lost in the smoke from the  chula and the demands of my sasural. My ma-in law cracked the whip and I jumped. At night when I rubbed sarson tel to my calloused hands I cried for my kismet. But I bore it all .In fact I should consider myself lucky because my sasural was one of the erstwile families in that area. I was constantly reminded of my bhagya.

I also started believing in it until my bro-in law felt me up .I was in the pantry standing on tiptoe to take the curd off the pot hangar. My pallu was off my head and it fell off my bosom as I stretched to take the pot. Suddenly I felt hands…hot hands squeezing my breasts. God had endowed me generously in that area ….. the shock made me drop the pot. The curd spread all over the floor. I jumped  to avoid it……… into his waiting arms.He squeezed some more. I pushed him away and fled from the dark pantry. If I screamed or told anyone I just knew that the tables would be turned on me. So I kept quiet. After that I had to bear his hot looks and gestures. He thought he was a hunk I couldn’t ignore. In fact his looks had always been amorous but I thought I was imagining things. Finally it came to a stage when I could ignore it no longer and I told my husband.

His reaction was a laugh.

 “All this is common in families” he said, “and I too sleep with my bhabhi. And my mother’s word is law. You put up with it. My ma must have given him permission”

I did not know what to do. I had heard stories and wasn’t absolutely shocked. But I never thought it would happen to me. The ones who were subjected to this form of subtle discrimination were illiterate. And accepted it. I could not bring myself to digest this state of affairs. I knew I was a girl child whose birth was mourned in India. Sons were the idolized ones. Society saw to it that girls led a very precarious life.

They were exploited in one way or the other. I was at a loss, I had to suffer my bro-in law’s pawing and be happy.  Dalit girls were always exploited…… always. If the higher caste got any flimsy reason to put down the dalits they would grab the girls. Parading her naked in the streets before falling over each other to molest and rape her fired to lust by the sight of her naked , cringing ugly, beauty.  I have always wondered how could these high class Jats touch us women to rape and molest. At that time where do their untouchability status go? I sighed and shook off  Tolaram’s groping hands. He had become bolder lately . He knew he could get away with it. But he was willing to wait.

I knew it was my ma –in law’s fault. She was the one who wielded the final power. My sister in law was just a willing victim waiting to get married and go to her sasural and be exploited there.

In the hat that day I heard that one third panchayat seats were reserved for women .In a society like ours where women are not treated as individuals in their own right and where they are subjugated and controlled, women’s rights of any sort are always a difficult proposition.I eagerly read the papers from the nukkad. I dare not buy one unless I wanted the wrath of my ma-in law to liquefy me.   

‘Hai  re abala teri yahin kahani, aanchal mein dudh aur ankhon mein paani.’How true. Specially for us dalits. The word itself coined by our savior Dr Ambedker meant crushed and broken from all fronts. Even though reformers like Raja Rammohun Roy, Rabindranath Tagore, Naicker and Gandhi had tried to give us a social status atrocities still happened . Within and without the four walls.I was glad that I could at least cover myself…..I sighed and receded to my chula  back home. Cinderella waiting for that elusive Prince Charming..who would never come into my life. Instead there was Prince Tolaram ready to maul me ‘chutki mein’.. Maybe I should let him do it so that I could get my way. Sweet talk him into letting me finish my education….allow me to visit the gramin panchayat, the balwari …..the kitab ghar whereI could read stories and the  news….But then what did that make me? A randi? No, it was allowed in the family ,then why not?Indeed why not? Why did my soul and body  revolt  and recoil? Why couldn’t I be like the other dalit girls? Maybe I shouldn’t have been educated and aware. As they say ignorance was bliss.

I sighed. I could hear Prince Tolaram at the door.I looked at him. A strapping youth spoilt by his ma thought he could have it all. I pretended to be asleep. I felt his eyes devouring me , I felt my ears turn hot and I wished I could disappear. After he went away I opened my eyes to see my ma-in law glaring at me . “Maharani likha padi hai na soch samajh ke pair failati hai,” she spat and walked away (because she is educated she won’t spread her legs easily”)I knew I could not save myself for long. Whatever  happened my parents would not take me in …..I prayed for a miracle.

A week later a neighbour’s bahu was burnt to death because of less dowry. My father still had to cough up their demands. I was sure if I did not surrender to Tolaram these folks could even burn me. All of a sudden a seed of an idea germinated  in my head.Tolaram to Tolaram. I began to flirt with him. I would keep my pallu off whenever he was around and while bathing at the pond I would make sure he saw a lot of flesh.In fact I knew he had a hard on the moment he sighted me. I would let him touch me too and I started to question him on various matters. It was during one of our ‘touching’ sessions that I was forced to tell him that he could do whatever he wanted with me on Holi ka Tyohar. It is a well known and accepted fact that during holi it was a free for all . No caste , gender or relationship. It was the done thing. Jats had a field day…. I wasn’t prepared for his ‘faux pas’ “Ma is planning to burn you that day” He bit his tongue and looked sheepish.My ears cocked.

“But you will miss something then won’t you”,I asked sweetly taking his hands and rubbing it fiercely on me . I began to remove the hooks in my choli and exposed myself fully, majestically for the first time. Lohe ko lohe se kaato. Tolaram’s eyes popped out, he breathed heavily and pounced. I covered myself.

 “Not so fast,” I purred. “Tell me her plans”.

That was how I came to know that ma-in law was preparing to Holika me. Her plan was foolproof but she had reckoned without her horny son. My husband Bholaram(some Bhola) was actively involved too.The neighbour and they had got together…..a plan was hatched….

.I hatched my own. Lord Vishnu…. another Prahlad …another Holika, another  justice….I prayed.

Ma-in-law’ s plans were to make it look like an accident at the ritual bonfire, the can of kerosene would fall and burst into flames with me. I felt a moment of helplessness and rage. Why were we women subjected to this? Even the Atharve veda discriminates us. It says ‘the birth of a girl grant it elsewhere , here grant a son’ Empowerment of woman? Baloney!

I prepared the holi sweets , the gulal and did the puja . I even ground the bhang to give Tolaram before he came to possess me. Our agreement pucca, emotionally bound…..

In the evening on the eve of Holi I finished cleaning the kitchen and ‘forgot ‘to lock the gas. It leaked its deadly contents…..Ma in law had a habit of heating water to gargle  around 11.30-12.  I never understood why she did not make me do it. Any way I finished my work slightly late . What if she asked me to  heat water for her  today I wondered,  my heart in my mouth. It didn’t happen. Would she be able to smell the leak? She was like a hound….I waited for her familiar step. Will she, wont she?.... I might have dozed off when suddenly the scream rent the air…The scream and the explosion that I had been eagerly waiting for. I looked at my watch . It was past 12’o’clock.. Holika , the evil demoness burnt to a cinder..I had absolutely no regrets…..

The neighbour was shocked when he saw me hale and hearty at the condolence gathering. Tolaram was also nowhere to be seen. No one could blame me. My plans were foolproof.

A month later Bholaram left town to Delhi. He took his bhabhi with him. I was left with Tolaram. I decided to let him have his way. But before that I took admission in college . a- la-Menaka. If the Apsara could do it why not I, a mere mortal?......And to tell you a secret  Tolaram surprised me with his gentleness and care……