There was confusion in the eyes of the seven year old Surangi as they dipped mango leaves into the sandal-turmeric paste to anoint her. She did not know what marriage meant, she was just told that she would move into a new home in a village far away...
Like elsewhere in India Diwali is one of the biggest festivals in the Konkan besides Ganesh Utsav, and is celebrated soon after the kharif harvest. The monsoon had been benevolent that year and farm-owning families like the Oaks thanked the Gods for their generosity. The words kharif and rabi, both Arabic in origin and used in India since the Mughal era translate into autumn and springtime respectively. They refer to the season in which the crop is harvested. Kharif crops like paddy, finger millet and little millet had been bountiful and there was cause for the farm owners as well as the farm labour dependent on them to celebrate.
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Surangi was learning facts about farming that she never knew before, her father grew orchard fruit but had no farms. The horse gram is normally used as fodder but in Konkan it is an important food. During the monsoon it was planted in the space left by the paddy saplings after they were transplanted. As water was plentiful during the rains the leafy matter grew abundantly. After the paddy was cut a second crop of horse gram would be planted and the pods harvested during spring. A meal of horse gram curry and rice or millet bread was not just nutritious; it also kept the belly full for a long time because it took time to digest.
Schools were closed for the Diwali holiday and the children divided their time between work and play. Every house was being scrubbed and spruced. Paper lanterns were made by covering a hexagonal frame with coloured paper. There was frenzied activity in the kitchen and the meals became simpler as the women devoted most of their time in readying sweet and savoury snacks for the festive occasion. Rice had been soaked for three days, washed and the water changed daily. It was then spread out to dry on a clean fabric. Before all the moisture evaporated the rice was milled, sieved, combined with grated jaggery and set aside in an airtight container for another day to be fermented slightly.
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The following day little balls of the rice dough were flattened on the palm, dipped in poppy seeds and deep-fried in ghee till crisp and golden to emerge as the anarsa, the children's favourite treat. Likewise karanji was another deep-fried half-moon shaped pastry turnover with a dessicated coconut filling. The children were allowed to help but the women had a hard time trying to stop them from stealing tidbits. "Let them be, the Gods won't mind if the children taste the snacks before them!" Aaji laughed, referring to the custom of offering the festive spread at the altar before the family could share it.
Madhav and Surangi were dispatched to the herbalist for dried herbs for making the fragrant body scrub called utney. Abhyanga Snan, the purifying bath obliged people to rise before dawn, have oil rubbed into their skin, and exfoliate their bodies with the utney before rinsing it off with warm water. "Kapurkasri, nagarmotha, hirda, vala, kachur sugandhi, ambehalad, dried tulsi..........." Madhav read out his list and the old man measured everything with an experienced hand, recommending some missing ingredients like licorice, manjishtha and pure camphor.
Meanwhile Surangi played with the mimosa plant near the shop's compound wall, prodding the sensitive leaves with her fingertips till they snapped shut in reflex. Madhav watched her from the corner of her eye. She was back to being a carefree girl of her age, her sorrow forgotten for the moment. He was waiting to speak to her about something important, but with Waman around them always it was difficult. "Come, we have all the herbs, now let us go to the farm to meet Tukoba. He has kept aside some karit for us." He said to her. The karit fruit was a small wild cucumber with a bitter taste. On Diwali morning the men in the family would crush them under their toe to symbolise the slaying of the troublesome demon Narakasura by Satyabhama, the wife of Krishna. In fact the day of the pre-dawn bath was called Narak Chaturdashi for that reason.
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"Just a moment, I want to see how soon the lajjalu (bashful) plant opens its leaves." There was anticipation in her voice and Madhav waited till she was satisfied with her scientific observation. "Do you know that there is a lot to learn from the touch-me-not plant?" He asked. The window of opportunity he had been waiting for had just opened up.
"What is that?" She asked casually. Madhav had an endless stream of knowledge and she was sure she would learn something new again. "It is the plant's way of defending itself from danger. Like cattle who may graze on it or unwanted bugs who land on it and are forced to fly off when the leaves close." She followed him as they began walking toward the farm. "Sometimes you have to protect yourself from people who mean to harm you. A person's intentions are evident in the way he behaves around you. Some people may try to touch you. You have to react like that plant. While most people we trust may touch us in an innocuous way others may have bad intentions!" He looked at her to see if she was listening.
"You are referring to Balu, are you not?" She asked him. So she was paying attention to him. And was perceptive enough to guess what was playing on his mind. "People like Balu are predictable, so it is easy to be on your guard. But it is not just the mischief makers you have to watch out for. It could be anybody. If you get a hint that the touch is a bad one, raise an alarm or flee. Avoid being alone around men." He gently guided her through the no-touch zones on her body by indicating them figuratively. She nodded. She did not understand him fully but had gotten the gist that her body was sacrosanct.
They were near the farm now. They walked silently until she posed him a question.
"You know that house we pass on our way to school, the one where that lady is always on her way for a bath? Chandri said there is something wrong with her. She bathes maybe 4-5 times everyday!" She had a vague idea that there was a connection to what Madhav had been telling her earlier. "Chandri is right. Something did happen to her when she was young. There was a man who would do something unworthy to her and she has been affected since. Even after that man is no more she struggles with her past, trying to wash away his presence as she still remembers it." Madhav sighed.
"No one, not even a husband can approach a lady without her consent. The rule applies to girls as well as boys. There is no need to worry. We'll discuss how you can stay safe by exercising a little precaution." He waved out to Tukoba who was waiting for them.
"Surangi, namaskaar kar!" Madhav whispered. Tukoba was an old farmhand whose family had served them for many generations. Surangi did as she was told and the old man uttered a blessing. Madhav enquired about Tukoba's health and family before collecting the karit fruit from him. "We'll take your leave now, Kaka!" Madhav bid him farewell and started on his way home, Surangi keeping step with him.
"I wonder what Gaju is doing right now! It is his first Diwali na?" She chirped. Madhav smiled. He was worried about how she would react to his advice. But she looked unaffected. He should have known, as long as Surangi had him by her side she felt secure. Unlike the lajjalu plant she had her own Sudarshan Chakra to protect her from the unknown.
