It was the 9th of September, 1997 and my 10th Birthday was in the coming month of October.
Those days we used to take two heavy meals a day and a day time snack post mid-day sun, that was the culture and it still continues to be the same back in the Hills, where the sun rises a bit too early and sets a bit too quick.
I vividly remember that day, I was busy preparing myself to get ready for school right after finishing my morning meal. My mother was on her second day of periods so even as a 10 year old it was my job to cook the morning meals till she cleansed herself on the third day and entered the kitchen. I wore my uniform and rushed to the bathroom before I could run downhill in 10 minutes time left for the school bell to ring. I stood up and saw blood stains, disgusted and angry I was murmuring how irresponsible Mom could be to not pour water carefully even after knowing we shared the toilet with another family living in the rented quarters. I sat down but saw the blood again, this time I paused and thought, “Is that me?
Glory and behold! It was me! I was expecting it because I was heavy and my tummy was tight and aching since a few days, all similar symptoms I got to hear when women discussed their periods among themselves. I was excited to tell this to Mom, quite oblivious of the traumatic days it would give me for years ahead. I washed and ran to my room, but I remembered something that Mom had told me.
I called an Aunt who was our neighbor living next door and requested her to hand me my clothes from my own room! She was perplexed and also angry that a child is ordering from an elderly to get something. She was a Christian lady who probably won’t understand this Hindu customs and not wanting to waste my time to explain to her, I thanked her politely leaving her all the more confused, she laughed too at the wierdness. I thought I would explain her once I am done with meeting and informing Mom. She pulled the best dress she could get her hands-on and gave me. I told her am going to meet mom in her workplace, so she thought it was wise to wear the best one. I wore it and ran as fast as I could up and down the hills, panting all the way to Mom’s workplace, looking here and there and finally spotting her in the canteen.
“Mom, I am untouchable now!” I said loud in a panting voice. Her eyebrows rose up high, being cautious of people around her suspiciously looking at me, her cheeks grew red and she hushed me towards a corner and said, “Why did you come all the way to the office then out in the SUN and seeing so many men all the way? You already broke the norm and I am now so worried if you will ever be blessed with good things associated with all these.” I obviously looked confused and all my pride of doing as taught went down the drain.
I thought she will appreciate me for coming all the way to inform her and without touching anyone and anything but she clearly seemed angry. She looked around and spoke to the canteen lady and after 5 minutes, locked me in a separate corner in the canteen store room clearly instructing me not to touch anything even by mistake in that room. She got me tea and a snack and left. It was the longest day of my life. I was waiting and waiting (although it was just an hour) till she returned with a huge packet of bread. She said use this and again locked the door! I was perplexed and I thought she got me bread to eat as it was soft to touch. I read the words on the cover and nothing was going in my head. I read for 15 minutes when Mom reappeared again with another cup of tea from the canteen. She inquired, “Did you put it in?” I was like, “I don’t know what it is!” She said, “You are the one who is getting education, I never went to any regular school, what is the point of your schooling then?” It hit me, she was right I thought.
Well, Mom had prepared me for this ever since I was five-six years old. We were a small nuclear family and lived in a tiny quarter where both of us sibling shared the room with mom. I would often spot the stains on mom’s clothes and as a curious child would ask her what hurt her and she had blood, she patiently explained it to me that I will be getting blood stains too once I was a bit old and if that happened I needed to tell her and also ensured that I didn’t see the sun, my brother and didn’t touch anything in the kitchen or the corner where the idols were kept. I was told that it is “Na Chunna hune din ho” when I couldn’t touch anything as I would be impure and “Paap lagcha” as in I would be cursed by gods if I dared not to oblige.
It took me 2 hours, a bit of frustrating tears and a lot of patience to actually comprehend the fact that Mom handed me not a package of bread but CAREFREE. I would have known had it been whisper, just by the name because of the TV ad and the girls’ talk in school when we saw a carelessly thrown blood soaked cloth in the toilet. This was CAREFREE, it had neither had sticker on the back nor did anything that I could pin up. It took me another hour to put the rubber band and tie the extreme ends of the pad into it so it looks like a boat! I finally did it! I wore it and at around 4 in the evening it got dark and everyone was slowly leaving office and that is when Mom reappeared but with a BLANKET!
Pic courtesy – Google Images
She draped me with it and walked me home, trying to avoid any male gaze (as it was a bad omen, I was told) She put me in a vacant room sandwiched between ours and that neighboring family. She said, I was lucky that this room was vacant otherwise she would have put me in the common bathroom (which has no tiles and even the door was open 2 feet from the bottom for the next 21 days. My eyes were as wide as they could be, she was not kidding! I was kept in isolation and could not attend school for seven days when I finally took my third bath because I was asked on 1st day – to wash my hair only, third and fifth day – bath and finally on the 7th day). It would have been 21 days but I was missing school and was a good student and the reason Mom was working so she modified it saying the Christian Majority don’t even follow it yet they all seems just as good but she barred me from cooking and touching my brother till it was the 21st day.
That also happened to be my only carefree pad, as mom realized it was a costly affair and beyond her to afford one every month. So she insisted that I was better off with using clothes (which my heavy periods lasting eight days in a place where rains never stopped and the sun hardly peeped in didn’t go well) More on that later.
When I look back now, I realize it would have been a scary day had my mother kept this a secret thing, not to be discussed with a young child. I am thankful that amidst all the regressive customs she made me follow for all that she knew, she did her best to make me aware of all these and take it as normal. It also prepared my brother who was just 8 years and cooked his first meal as both I and Mom on her 2nd day of her period were “untouchables“.
It definitely could have been better if we did not follow the customs (which we modified and finally gave up later) but I am glad I didn’t end up being scared, terrified or misinformed (partly I can say that, minus the regressive custom of becoming “impure”) and telling my counterparts at school and neighborhood that I actually fell sick – a silly excuse like what the daughter of that Auntie next door did say to me when a year later she herself got her periods. I understood and I could only smirked for I knew that is what she was taught to tell others.
The (incident of isolating me from men) news spread like any news does in a closed knit small town and a few of mom’s colleagues probably made up stories around this chapter of my life which I can now understand. There was an inside gossip that I was barred from going to school from being bad as in some kind of a teen rebel probably pregnant as I was very exhilarating,outgoing and curious child, much to their amusement unlike many of their reserved kids. They collectively decided not to let their kids befriend me for as long as I remember despite being the same age groups. They also didn’t come to see me as I was hospitalized the following year in July due to severe Malaria which almost killed me. The few ones who came were my new landlords who never fail to bring me home cooked food as Mom was attending me and my younger brother was finding it difficult to cook in firewood (we had no gas stove back then).
It has been traumatic for me and my mother, probably since then I started loosing faith, hope and trust and grew bitter with each passing year.
It has been a horrible journey even after the first time. I might write about them gradually sometime sooner, hopefully.
The edited shorter version of this article was published here
“Amma, I Am Untouchable Now!” #FirstPeriodStories
colouredscribbles 