A rangOli story - Part III

I still vividly remember the days of preparation before the marriage, the commotion in the house, the hectic activities, the frequent trips to one shop or the other, the arrival of relatives before the marriage day and such other things. My father had only one great asset, viz., his scholarship in Sanskrit. Unfortunately, nobody honoured it and so he was finding it difficult to find the money for all the expenses. My brother just then got a temporary posting. One gold chain and a pair of bangles that belonged to my dead mother was all that he had to send me with. Both as a matter of principle and out of necessity due to lack of funds, I never wore a silk sari then and now, though I can afford its price today. My chikkammA was happy and sad at the same time, happy because I am getting married and sad because I’ll be leaving the house soon, after nearly nine years of her association with me. Both of them were also unhappy that they could not marry me to a younger unmarried person. The kASIyAtra is an integral part of many Hindu marriages where the groom pretends to be off to Benares and his future father-in-law begs him to take his daughter’s hand and both the parents wash his feet as a part of this ritual. This part is dispensed with in cases of remarriage. Not having this ritual as a part of marriage is considered as a matter of shame in some circles.

The marriage itself took place in the nearby town, where there is a hill temple for our family deity Narasimha, the fourth incarnation of Lord Vishnu. I saw and heard Chandru being teased with words like “you’re going to get a stepmother soon”. To me it occurred that he was not fully aware of the whole situation. I confronted him and told him that I would be his future stepmother. The first question he asked me was, “Are you going to beat me?” I was shocked but recovered in time and responded immediately with the pun “Is it possible to hit the moon in the sky? Usha will also cry if you begin to cry. Get up and enjoy!” Years later I learnt from Chandru that one of his friends used to be beaten by his stepmother and so at that age it was very easy to generalize that all stepmothers are evil and beat their stepchildren. Even at that time, I realized that I had a project on my hands! The wedding ceremonies went on smoothly in a gay atmosphere. While I wanted to help chikkammA in drawing the wedding rangOli, she said that it would be her honour and privilege to do that chore.

Afterward, it took continuous and consistent efforts to uproot the doubt and fear from Chandru’s mind. Whereas the toddler Usha accepted me as her mother in no time and called me ammA. Chandru, interestingly, continued to address me as Lalita only! His father used to get upset whenever Chandru called me Lalita! I had to intervene and tell him “What does it matter whether he calls me chikkammA or by my name? The relationship is not going to change. If that way makes him happier and brings him closer to me, that’s fine with me.” The bond between me and Chandru is something quite unique and different from the normal ties between a stepmother and her stepson. It is more of a close friendship, mutual trust, and endless teasing conversation. He was a good student and soon after our relationship began to blossom, he became quite outstanding in his studies. He used to discuss his school lessons with me, particularly in literary areas, which only I could understand well. He also hit upon the idea of taking a stand that is exactly opposite to what I would take to provoke heated arguments. We used to rush to his father to settle our disputes. He used to smile and utter something that is neither here nor there. I never knew with whom I would be dealing as far as Chandru is concerned- a son or a younger brother or a friend or just an irresponsible kid. One thing about which everyone in the family agreed was that he came out of his depression after his mother’s death with flying colours. Some people, particularly my husband, used to credit me for the success. But I felt it is my chikkamma who was indirectly responsible for all this.

He also showed a lot of interest in my rangOlis. He used to give novel suggestions and occasionally used to fetch flowers from the woods to adorn some portions of the rangOli, particularly during the holy dhanurmAsaM, between the middle of December to the middle of January, considered in the Hindu calendar as God’s month. Just as chikkamma, I too used to get up quite early in the morning and spend a considerable amount of time in drawing the day’s rangOli. To tease me he would occasionally feign praying to God. I used to ask him the reason for this sudden piety and the object of his wish. He would tell me that he was praying varuNadEva to rain so that his lalitA will have some time for people like him. Before I would send the rangOli powder flying in his direction he would scamper away. Chandru was quite innovative too. He suggested the use of naturally and freely available materials like dried flower petals, green leaves as well as dried leaves, grass and even hay besides nuts to fill rangOlis. His theory was there must be as little unfilled space as possible in rangOlis. We used to have endless arguments about such matters.

... to be continued