PUBLISHED BY:
Cover by N Jhala
FESTIVALS THROUGH TALES
Copyright © 2011 by Rani Jhala.
Special thanks to Indian Link for their permission to reprint my short stories. This is a work of fiction
Index
My Row of Lamps
Valentine strikes in India
White is for Purity
Rakhi – The bond of protection.
MY ROW OF LAMPS
Deepika had just put down the phone. It had been her mother on the line, inviting her and her husband to spend Diwali with the family. Her brothers and sister-in-laws were all coming down this year to celebrate the festival. As Deepika was the only child living in India, they had contacted her last, first ensuring that all the other children had agreed to come. Her parents had dearly wanted them to join too and. Deepika had agreed. However, as she put the receiver down, she broke out in a sweat. What was she going to do? It wasn’t ‘Diwali’ that she had wanted to talk to her parents about; it was the breakup with her husband that needed to be conveyed. She had delayed it as much as possible. Now this get-together was going to make things very difficult.
Deepika’s marriage to Pradeep was considered a match made in heaven. But three years after their issue-less marriage the problems had arisen. Her in-laws wanted a grandchild. Pradeep was their only progeny and they feared their family line would end with him. Pradeep too had looked forward to being a father. Between his feelings and those of his family, Deepika began to feel her confidence shake. She did not speak to her family about it. Adoption was out of the question for the family, and so she had resorted to prayers. While these brought her solace it did nothing to solve the problem. Then one day she overheard her aunt-in-law suggest that Pradeep divorce his wife and remarry. While Pradeep had not agreed with her, she did not hear him disagree either. In tears, she fled to her room. Later they had their biggest fight ever, and she asked him to leave, after saying some very nasty things about his family. That was a week ago. To date, he had not even rung. far to speak of returning home. She told herself, it was something he had to work out for himself. She could not give him a child, if fate did not decree it.
Now she had to come up with an excuse for a missing son-in-law. Though awkward, it was a meeting she did not want to miss as her brothers were all going to be there. Finally she decided she would tell everyone that her husband was away on a conference. After the Diwali celebration, she would tell them the truth.
At the other end of the land, Aarti and her husband Roshan began their preparation for the visits. Their four children were now married, and living in different parts of the world. Their eldest Deepak and his wife Diya, lived in America with their six year old son. Chirag. Their second child Rajdeep married Helen, and lived in Australia with their 3 year old, Roshni. Their third was Deepika married to Pradeep. Their youngest son Deep went to Fiji on a posting, fell in love and married Deepa. Aarti felt herself blessed with her ‘little row of lights’ as she called her family. At their own marriage when they discovered that both Aarti and Roshan meant a form of light, they had decided to name all their children after light. Where fate played a part and aided their desire, was in that, even the children found partners whose names once again reflected light.
Aarti wanted everything to be perfect. It was Deepa’s first Diwali after marriage. Helen and Roshni, were going to see Diwali in India for the first time too. They did have their own personal celebrations at home, but with the fire bans during the summer months in Australia, it was not possible to have fire-crackers and open flames. And Deepika too, had not been home for Diwali, since her marriage.
A week before their arrival, Aarti had organised the traditional spring cleaning of the house, the white washing and repainting of the walls. This custom was made into tradition, but it was obvious to see that it was a clever ploy to ensure that at least once a year the house was thoroughly cleaned. Every item was removed, old things discarded, rest cleaned and replaced. When completed, the house sparkled and was ready to spell out a warm welcome to their family when they arrived.
For them their Diwali began at the joyous moment when the family arrived. Deepika was the last to reach. Looking beautiful she smiled bravely, but with what seemed a mother’s instinct, Aarti knew that things were amiss. Her son-in-law’s sudden absence, the hesitation she had felt on the phone. At the first chance she got alone with her, Aarti began her interrogation. Deepika could never lie very well, and finally she told the truth. She ended saying, she had left a letter at home for him, telling him where she was. If they did not see him by Diwali, Deepika told her mother, they would never see Pradeep again. Aarti understood her daughters pain, and seethed with anger at the aunt, however she tried to explain to Aarti that Indian sons do not verbally contradict their elders, they express their views by their actions. But Deepika had grown up in a household where her parents had encouraged free speech. To her an obedient son was a weak husband. And that, spelt a lifetime of sorrow. Aarti could see one generations morals, clash with the next. Why is it that no one wants to follow the middle path? Her own husband was an obedient son too, but he found the path that was right for him. Without a single rude word, he would get his message across to everyone, every remaining her caring husband. She had to make Deepika see that you work towards that change together; you don’t discard your partner at the first sight of trouble. At the end of the conversation, which had not produced a solution, they both agreed to keep this problem a secret for the moment. It would ruin everyone’s celebrations.
During the next couple of days, Deepika spent all her time with her brothers and their families. For Helen, everything was new here, and she displayed the most curiosity. She was a freelance journalist and wanted details, explanations, facts. She would question what Deepika would take for granted. When Deepika needed verifications she turned to her parents. Even Deepa and Diya wanted to learn more. In their new homelands, where there was a large population of ex-patriot Indians, people were still eager to know how things were done in their ancestral homeland.
While the evenings were spent in talking, the mornings were spent is the religious rites. Helen had her video ever ready, Diya her camera. Deepa would give them instant results with her Polaroid. They were fascinated with the family shrine, the rangoli or rice powder patterns that had been made on the floor by their mother-in-law. They asked questions stemming from different points of interest, often making everyone think hard about a custom which had become into a habit. Roshan being a deeply religious man would explain the philosophical side of things, Aarti the cultural.
What made the explanations a little more difficult was that some customs were not part of their family. As Roshan had worked for a local airline, he had been posted to various parts of the country. It had exposed them to a variety of people and cultures. The customs they liked, they adopted as their own. Where Diwali, was concerned, he and his wife, had created a unique Deepavali. Aarti remembered the journal she had once created and gave it to the girls to make notes from.
In the journal, Aarti had recorded the details of every festival. This sparked an interest in the girls to jointly produce a book on the customs and festival of India.
With a mission in mind they devoured every page with interest. From it they learnt that their father-in-laws family believed that Diwali first began with the coronation or RajTilak of Lord Rama upon his return from exile after destroying the demon Ravana. The people of Ayodhya decorated the entire city with little lamps or diyas as they are called in India. The fireworks announced his success and the lights proclaimed his victory over evil. Aarti’s family on the other hand felt that Diwali was the celebration of Goddess Lakshmi’s marriage to Lord V
ishnu. It is believed that Lakshmi came out of the churning ocean, and when she agreed to marry Lord Vishu (Narayana), the joy that the people felt was reflected in the lights that they lit. Deep had once told his mother of another myth where, Diwali was celebrated at the destruction of Narakasur To the religious, it’s deeper meaning was that with the end of the attachment (Narakasur) comes illumination. Others said that when Bali was made the king of ‘patal’, Lord Indra relieved that his kingdom had been saved celebrated with lights in heaven What was curious was that in every story, Diwali fell on the same day, Kartik Amavasya. In the English calendar, that would cover the period between October and November.
Aarti had learnt a lot from her grandfather about the festivals and the religions of India. According to him, in the ancient days, each caste had their own special festival. The Brahmins had Raksha Bandhan, the Kshatriyas had Dushera, the Sudras celebrated Holi and the Vaishya or the merchant community made Diwali their festival. It is for this reason that the accounting year for the trades people and salesmen begins on Diwali.
Today these communities can no longer claim exclusivity to any of these festivals. As the races mingled with each other, they respected, accepted and celebrated each other’s festivals..
The day before Deepavali is called Choti Diwali. The festivities are directed to the Gods. The idols and the shrine are thoroughly cleaned. The idols of Lakshmi and Ganesh are donned with new clothes Four trays are arranged, each having one four-flamed diya surrounded by 6 small lamps. One set is placed in front of Lord Ganesh; the rest around the shrine. The pandits chant ‘Gopal Sahastranam’ and other stotras. When the girls came to the actual Diwali day celebrations, they stopped reading. They wanted to experience everything first hand. And so began the long awaited Diwali.
Aarti inspired by her daughter-in-laws thirst for experience, returned to the authentic customs. The women rose early, had a bath and then plucked fresh flowers from the garden. While one washed the statues, the second made garlands. The third organised the lamps. A hundred and eight small single flamed ones and two huge nine flamed lamps were prepared. One nine flamed lamps were left in the shrine the other was placed near the front door. The small ones were arranged on trays and kept in the hallway, ready for the evening. Then the morning prayers were said. After that everyone retired to their rooms to get ready. They returned donned in brightly coloured garments. By 11 am the guests began to arrive. Relatives and friends dropped in with their boxes of sweets. At the side of the main entrance Aarti too had placed rows of boxes to be given to the guests as they leave. A vegetarian lunch was served at 1 p.m. and everyone who was there at that time was invited to the meal. The two older daughters-in-laws were amazed at this custom. In their lands, were all labour was done by the householders, such an open invitation to lunch would have been impossible to give. After lunch more visitors arrived, and the family took turns to go and have a rest. At 6 p.m. the last of the visitors left. The evening celebrations were generally held between family members and close friends. Normally Aarti and Roshan would also visit people, but with the entire family here, they had asked everyone to come to their place.
Everyone then got dressed for the night wearing brocades and jewelry. As per tradition Aarti and Roshan had organised new clothes for everyone. Once everyone was ready, they came down to the lounge room. Aarti performed the welcoming ceremony by putting the tika or dot, and then giving cash in hand to each person. After this the 108 diyas were lit and place around the house. It is said that no part should remain in darkness. When all had been lit, the house literally sparkled with the flames. Once again a quick prayer was said and then after the prayers, the statues of Ganesh and Lakshmi were locked in the family safe. It is a playful attempt by man to lock the Gods of Prosperity and Wealth in their homes.
Standing in the shrine room, Deepika felt an overwhelming sense of loss. She now realised that her marriage was over. The tears welled in her eyes ready to flow over, when her mother whispered, ‘No Deepika, only tears of happiness can fall today. Look to the light, it will show you the way.’
After that everyone went outside. Aarti had once seen another beautiful ceremony. In Varanasi, people lit little lamps, placed them in tiny barges and set them to sail in the river. Her family did that on Kartik Purnima, however, since she loved the sight so much she adopted it into her Diwali celebrations. They had a small pond in the back yard and everyone went there. Taking turns they lit a lamp and set it to sail. Deepika went last. Deepak suggested she light one for Pradeep in proxy. Just as she went to do that, she felt a hand take the lamp from her. She knew it was her husband. The tears that had been threatening to fall all this time, released themselves from their captivity and raced down her cheeks. Everyone else moved discreetly away.
Aarti delayed her departure. Looking at her daughter she said, “Always wait till you have heard everything. A little knowledge is dangerous they say. Pradeep rang us and told us what had happened. I then spoke to his mother and clarified everything. When his aunt came up with the suggestion, your husband’s reply was “If you can guarantee me a child in my second marriage, I will” No one was prepared to give that guarantee. Without a rude word, your husband had silenced their insult to you. For this you should be grateful. I asked Pradeep to wait a while before returning home. I did not give you to that family so you can exhibit our family’s capacity to show disrespect. Deepika my child, learn to ignore what people say, some have nothing better to do. Today is Diwali use it to overcome your personal short comings. Let the good in you always defeat the bad. Now make up and join the rest of us. We can’t have a couple of our lights out of formation.”
Then the men took over. The fireworks began with the rockets that sped upwards to burst into a ball of a thousand stars.. As the night sky was lit with millions of glistening pieces released from the fireworks, the children stared fixedly at it. Even Roshni, would not blink. There was laughter and screaming every time a rocket burst with an explosive sound. The family dog spent the entire evening under Roshan’s bed. In between the awesome moments, they would burn the gentle sparklers. Little black dots burst, into mighty snakes when lit, fountains arose from tiny cone shaped containers. Helen had been to a local Diwali function in Sydney, but the variety of firecrackers that were being used today was incredible. When there was a moment between their fireworks, they looked at their neighbours.
Finally as the air became too chilly and smoky to sit outside and all the crackers had been used up, the family moved indoors and had dinner. They had all had so much sweet the whole day that it was literally coming out of their ears. The very sight of them was making everyone groan. Only Pradeep enjoyed himself, gobbling a ladoo, followed by a gulab jamun. Then a barfi disappeared into his mouth, dragging behind it a sandesh. All the while, a bowl of jalebis waited their turn. Helen, had videotaped everything. She said she would send some of the funny footages to a local program on the television.
Somewhere between his sandesh and jalebis, the two children fell asleep, leaving the parents free to play cards. This was another little tradition that everyone followed. It was considered lucky by some , to gamble on this night believing that if you won, that luck would last through the year.
Finally when exhaustion took over, everyone decided to go to sleep. As they walked upstairs, Aarti was reminded of her name for her family, ‘my row of lights; my Deepavali’ She told everyone to leave a light or lamp on in their rooms. They say Goddess Lakshmi who visits on Diwali night will not enter a dark, dirty or empty home. No one wishes to displease the Goddess of wealth, and so no one has challenged this belief. Aarti was not going to be the first to do so either.
After everyone had gone to bed, Roshan and Aarti sat down and had a cup of tea. It has been a busy day, tomorrow they would begin to enjoy the children’s company. Luckily everyone was here for a month. Their Diwali had ended for this year on a very bright note. Their kids were safe, they were home, and love was the overriding factor.
&n
bsp; Whoever lit the first lamp, for whatever reason, they began the festival of lamps. The stories have become ancient, some have lost their relevance to modern day society, but the spirit of that first Diwali, remains eternal.
THE END