Showing posts with label Odisha. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Odisha. Show all posts

Monday, May 13, 2024

Reminiscing Sabitrimani

Remembering our beloved JejeMaa and fond childhood memories on the quarter century of her passing away. 



The Shraddh of our grandparents is performed by our parents at home as well as in our ancestral village every year. The Shraddh of our grandfather JejeBapa falls on the tithi of Vinayaka Chaturthi every year. JejeBapa was born in the year 1900 and passed away in 1976 when he was attacked by a bull while he was working in our agricultural field in the native village Amara (near Haldipada) in the coastal district of Balasore, Odisha. He was a farmer and the eldest of four brothers. The angry young man of his times, he was very strict. He was the only brother who chose to stay in the village then. The rest three of his brothers moved out of our village Amara for further studies and subsequently bagged coveted jobs in Railways and Police services after their schooling at Bagha Jatin High School, Amara. Though he was hospitalized, he passed away on Chaturthi night. Our father was in Class X then. JejeBapa left behind his wife and small children. Our grandmother JejeMaa was quite young then. Most of our Piusis were small kids then. Nobody was an active earning member in our family. It was such a struggle period, as our father recollects sometimes. But our JejeMaa was a strong positive lady who singlehandedly raised all the kids by the dint of hard work and wisdom. Over the years, our father completed graduation, moved out of Balasore, joined a project under Amul in Gujarat, came back to the state dairy cooperative in Bhubaneswar in 1982, and became the first earning member of the huge family. Our mother joined the same office in Bhubaneswar much later. 

I was raised by JejeMaa for quite some time in our native village Amara as a small baby. Since we were twins and our mother was working, my sister was with my parents in Bhubaneswar. JejeMaa addressed us - Chua, mostly Kali and Gori. We are very fond of our native village. It is very beautiful. Though I resemble my grandmother, only a few of us could inherit her tall gait. Clad in a comfortable Sambalpuri light cotton saree in our typical Odia style paired with a white blouse, she looked elegant. JejeMaa lived with us most of the time. She was an excellent cook. Fondly addressed BadaMaa by many, most of us miss her cooking till today. She enjoyed picking both of us up from school every day. She was a huge fan of Shaktimaan. Three of us used to watch that religiously every Saturday afternoon and its repeat telecast on Tuesday night. She was very fond of street side chat and gupchup. JejeMaa loved buying Singada, Bara, and green chilies daily for us while picking us up from school so that Kali and Gori would have that with Mudhi and sauce. Anytime she gave my sister and me any money, we would put it in our two separate piggy banks. Finally, we contributed that money to Kargil's war collections at our school. 

'Jhada-Bantiya' was JejeMaa's typical cuss word when anybody pissed her off. My sister and I would straight away take our complaints as kids to her if our parents did not understand us. JejeMaa was a very progressive lady and loved our mother like anything. JejeMaa believed in helping everyone, no matter how much distress she would be in. She looked after farming, fish ponds, and the animal husbandry aspects of our ancestors in Amara for the longest time. She loved maintaining our cow shed and the dairy cows. She had maintained a kitchen garden in our village backyard. She ensured feeding everybody visiting her home with water-soaked Bhuja, curd, Bhaja, and Chennachur, if not anything, including the daily wage workers. Even today, many in Amara say "BadaMaa kahaku khali petare chaddi beni" (She never lets anybody leave home on an empty stomach). 

Ilish fish jhol in mustard paste, banana patua, badi, nadia ladu, chaula bhaja, mango pickles, and different types of Pitha were her signature dishes. Even though the act of giving continues to date, I don't remember hilsa, mudhi, rice, bananas, coconuts, vegetables, and sweets being sent in those huge volumes from village after she passed away. She used to call our father 'Gania' or 'Gana' fondly. She was quite biased towards our father and us. Visiting Amara during Chandan Jatra was an annual affair. Our ancestral house would be filled with her unruly grandchildren and loving children for the next fifteen days. Nothing gave our father more satisfaction than helping JejeMaa get her younger sisters married off at the appropriate age in all the humble households. It was during her times when the society was supposedly conservative, that she went ahead in getting one of her younger brothers married off to a Bengali household. Having visited her maternal home in the neighbouring village Icchapur once with my parents as a small kid, never have we heard anything about her but heaps of praise. As a guardian, she was instrumental in taking care of her two younger brothers along with a cousin and getting them established in life. 

Though most Balasorias are not fond of Dalma, my mother's Dalma was her favourite. Our mother and Aae used to remember JejeMaa whenever they sat together. She was actually a God-sent angel for our mother to save her from life-threatening bleeding due to retained placenta after her parturition. Our mother had a tough time delivering her twins. With no doctors around at odd hours, and no money at hand in the hospital, my father was away on duty during heavy rains, and in her presence of mind, she kept on swabbing the bundle of gauge for blood to absorb and the light of the operation theatre to prevent further infection till the doctor arrived. Our mother was given a second life by her, as Aae puts it. Aae remembered 'Mo Balasore Samuduni bhalia au kehi nuha' (There is nobody like my Balasoria friend).                              

Being staunchly religious, JejeMaa's health deteriorated due to regular fasting even in old age. Remembering the time, when she became very emaciated due to hepatic cancer and gallbladder stones, she had to walk with a supporting stick but would still wait for us at Sailashree Vihar Chhak at 4:30 pm to come back from school. She loathed the high-dose medicines as they got her skin rashes. That made her restless. Anybody who paid her visit to Bhubaneswar at our home at that time in Sailashree Vihar could notice her smile through her debilitated yellow eyes and scanty hair. As kids, we would see her bath on holidays and enjoy it. She wanted to live more but unfortunately could not. Since Amara was her first love, later on, when she was critical with fatal jaundice leading to cancer and undergoing treatment in Bhubaneswar, she pleaded to be left in the village for her last days. A few weeks later, she passed away peacefully in our village. Having seen Shri Biju Patnaik's, the Chief Minister of Odisha then, last rights on television performed in Swarga Dwar Puri on 17 April 1997, she had requested the same for her cremation. Two years later on the exact date and Rukmini Amavasya tithi, this was fulfilled by our father and other relatives when she passed away on 17 April 1999. We were in third standard then. 

Our father and Piusis claim that had Maa and Ba would have been alive, they would have been the happiest to see their grandchildren prosper today. One of our dear BadaMaa puts it in light humour of writing a book on 'Amara ru America' someday since most of our family and extended families have flourished with many settled abroad now. Having seen so much early in her life, she was the epitome of compassion, empathy, and strength. Twenty-five years later, her soul lives in us in our values, identities, and the memories created in our family functions. Even after so many years, she still stands as a source of inspiration for the villagers and our family. Just like her name Sabitrimani Mohapatra, she was simple, pious, and the jewel of our family. 


                                We love you Jejemaa. 

                                We miss you immensely!!

Wednesday, August 9, 2017

No shame DAINLa !

From the pen of a gynaecologist, a doting mother of a wonderful girl TIA and a DAINLa, guest contributor Dr. Sagnika Dash strongly advocates humanistic ideologies.




It was my fourteenth day at my in-laws' place. As a newly wed, I chose to follow all that was requested, directed and dictated. Most of the things made sense except for the rituals relating to menstruation. As soon as a daughter-in-law (Let us call her DAINLa!) gets her menses for the first time at her in-laws' place, it is no less than a shame and guilt for her that is she meant to feel but also the fact that she is not PREGNANT. This goes circulated amongst the peers as she is asked to go through some specific untoward rituals which makes it all the more obvious that she is MENSTRUATING!


Thus there I was an obedient DAINLa who spotted a few blood stains on cloth then, naive enough to ask her mother-in-law who then guided her through the unprecedented treacherous process of rituals. Then there followed a bunch of orders, "Don't touch anything Bahu! Use the separate bathroom. Don't touch the tap. You will be given one bucket of water to wash yourself. After you are done with your bath, we shall give you a cloth." Meanwhile I could not stop analyzing about the ground, the soil which is a good conductor and thus the logic of impurity for me failed miserably then and there. Washing off oneself with that one bucket included a nine yards of elegance, the stained garment, the body smeared with a paste of herbs and sticky-stinking oil and the one and a half feet of long hair. It was only a sari that I was handed over at the end, I mean a single sari without the accessories. I wrapped up the long cloth, trying to hide my body which eventually made me look like a character from "The Mummy Returns".


Believe me! The walk from the celebrated bathroom to home was not a cake walk. I call it  the worst RAMP WALK as I was on full display considering that the neighbours on the first floor and some peeping could very well sense what had happened. Shame, puppy shame!! The bride was menstruating. I was instructed to clean my sanitary napkins in a separate polybag thoroughly even though they were complete disposables. The polybag belonged to the celebrated bathroom. Thus everytime I went to dispose those pads off, it made people around me aware of the length of my monthly cycle. That was the day I decided firmly that I would not declare my menstruation at my in-laws' place ever. I was lucky that I never had to stay there for long. The next month I went to visit my parents. Even though my dates were approaching when I got back, I mentioned all intentionally that  I got them at my parents' place back then. Isolation of menstruating women makes things worse, especially  when I was given a bucket of water to clean myself which I was unable to do so that day in a complete new place. Instead I was made to waste precious water on cleaning a disposable pad, to what avail and to ward off which black magic I am still not sure till date.



Odia Raja hallmark - Alata

Making women clad in improper clothes on full display to neighbours, outsiders and so what if even insiders is never a sensible idea to deal with the pain, bleeding and the shame associated with menstruation. When the world cannot stop going ga-ga about building toilets indoors for ladies, why can't the menstruating woman take bath indoors there? This particular saga makes me wonder if a woman with a voice and social relevance can be made to follow unbelievable customs which belittles a normal physiological bodily function, what about the million voiceless suffering? I can't imagine! I belong to a state which proudly celebrates the menstruation festival since ages known as Raw-Ja. But the persistence of ignorance and customs ingrained in households somewhere still humiliates my womanhood. 



                                              


When my daughter grows up, I would want her to feel empowered because of menstruation and there shall be no rules and no shame. 


For more understanding on menstrual hygiene education, please refer