Sari Initiation...

While in my 12th std, on November 14th- children’s day, there was this tradition in our school that the senior most students would become teachers for the day and we had to teach the younger classes. It was a free day for the “real” teachers and they enjoyed our excitement, our dramas- they had a fun time giggling behind our backs, but we used to be so full of our enthusiasm that we overlooked all this.

We used to be so excited about this ritual, and on the previous day, we would go selecting which teacher’s role we were to choose, get the timetable, the reference texts and all such details. Some of us even gave surprise tests on this occasion- it was a golden opportunity coming just once in a year!

Next came the sari of course. Now, here my situation was a bit pathetic-I have always been short, small- whatever- its been the story of my life, yes, there have been advantages of being short, but those days I never appreciated them. All my classmates looked quite grown up and I looked like I had lost my way into the higher classes. That is another story for another blog- The travails of being short- mebbe another time.

Anyway, after a night long deliberation, chose Amma’s pure silk sari- the type that I used to describe as “airhostess sari”- amma altered her blouse for me, and next day, she trussed me up in this seemingly never ending length of beautiful cloth. Naturally, I had taken the precaution of boarding high heels for additional height, but it did not help much, and what’s more developed blisters on my toes! I knew that I did not look quite right and my confidence was at its lowest ebb. Since I was the only “teacher” in my school bus, I insisted achhan take me to my class mate’s house and that I would board her bus with her. Achhan agreed to humour me, and he was doing his best to keep his indulgent amused smile in check.

My class mates looked so beautiful and grown up, only I looked like a school kid swathed in a sari. I had a tough time taking care not to trip over my pleats, and walking on heels was literally tightrope circus. Anyway, once I took over my duties as teacher, I forgot my apprehensions, and had a rocking time teaching tiny tots- I had chosen to be the teacher to KG students of course, so that I looked older surely.

That was the first time.

Then the actual formal initiation came later while in college. There was this function in the temple in my native place, and my grandmother declared that I should wear a sari. By now, I had a couple of my “own” saris with blouses though I had not yet quite summoned the courage to wear it in public after my school fiasco. Anyway, my ammayis (maamis) helped me drape the sari- it was a beautiful pale orange sari, and they looked me over quite appreciatively after the draping ceremony.

But I felt agonisingly shy to emerge from my room- but there was no way out. I was feeling so painfully conscious, I felt as if my face was on fire upto the tips of my ears. I have no memory of how I felt about my looks. I just wanted to hide. My uncles who usually rag me pretended I was invisible, my father had this funny kind of look in his eyes- did I see a pang in them? I think the first sari day of the daughter is a day of reckoning for the parents too. The day they suddenly realize that their baby is no longer a baby! My amma usually lingers unobtrusively in the background on such landmark days, and maybe I will never know what she felt during those occasions, because I have no daughters! My ammayis however had a field day teasing me- The usually chirpy me remained silent that evening.

To cut a long story short, I went to the temple with my folks, and everything was an excited, embarrassed blur. I was flattered by compliments and yet I yearned to crouch back to the security and privacy of my room.

That night, as I lay on my bed, I realized childhood was now “was” and not “is”. Was I happy? Sad? Excited? A little bit of everything. I suppose- The Sari Initiation ceremony is indeed a milestone in the life of an Indian woman! Today, I wear a sari without a second thought and I am quite comfortable in it .

Song of the moment: Kahin door jab din dhal jaaye
Saanjh ki dulhan badan churaaye, chupke se aaye (Aanand)