Being a Brahmin..and his wife..
My Ajji, grandma, has been taking care of Ajja's family for all these years. While he spent his life being the pious scholar and teacher, she has given birth to 12 (13 ?) of his offsprings, and raised the 9 survivors with the meager income that he would bring home. She has followed the infinitely many rituals, and strict guidelines of his brahmin life. She has cared for all the daughters through their pregnancies and deliveries. She has fussed over every one of her grand children's well being. Her journey steering a large family through poverty (with many daughters) and ruthless religious regulations is an epic on its own. So tough has been her struggle, that it is difficult for her to feel content and rested even today.
To me, she is a shining example of femininity. No matter how tough life has been to her, she has had the spirit to snatch her pleasures from life as well. In all our social events, beginning from cradling ceremonies, anna-praashanas, choulas, threading ceremonies, weddings, and numerous other festivities, for as long as I remember, my grandma has been on the forefront as the "hiri-muttaide".. a woman held in high respect for her age, her marriage, and her role as the wife, the mother and the grandmother. A fertile woman bearing a plentiful family full of children . Women seek her blessings in being able to be a good mother like she is. Young couples have sought Ajja's and her blessings to have a lasting marriage. People touch her feet and hope the richness of her life passes on to them. This has been the one pleasure that she has gotten to enjoy in all the different phases of her life.
Ajji was married off at 12, I believe, and she is 78 now. She has been a muttaide all her life.
When I imagine Ajji, the only image that appears, is that of her in a bright colored 9-yard silk saree, the broad crimson spot on her forehead, a glittering diamond on her thin nose, her grey hair (and an pitch black extension, chauree, made of yak's hair) tied in a bun ...sometimes with jasmine flower and an old golden brooch. Back when her back was still strong in her fragile frame, she had the most elegant style of walking. A brilliant smile, a frown, or a scornful roll of her eyes, whatever it was, it came from the truest of her feelings. She is grace personified.
From today, she is considered a widow. She is no longer the lioness that strolled with pride. I don't know if they will make her a "madi-hengasu", holy woman. I cannot even bring myself to think about it.
All the holy women I have seen, have shave their head, drape themselves in dull simple sarees (whose one end covers their heads), and spend their life in cooking and caring for the families that they live with, feeling like they are a burden on the earth..waiting for their time.
She will still be respected, and invited to social gatherings and ceremonies, but she will choose to be in a corner hiding in sadness and a sort of shame, as though it is her fault that Grandpa is no longer there. Perhaps, this is the reason why women of the previous generation wished to be dead before their husbands.
I hate this aspect of the brahmin life. I want to take her away from it.. I want to shield her from this part of life. But I believe that she won't want to go away. For a woman who has spent her entire life being the wife of a true brahmin, the only honorable ending would be that of a respected widow. Possibly a "madi hengasu"..I still cannot come to think of Ajji as that.
In a life of my own, that is far far away from the brahmin woman's struggle, all I can do is hope that she, with her infinite zest for life, will thrive through this.
1 Comments:
The unthinkable has happened.. there is nothing more to be said
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