Of Injustice, Indifference and Irony
My grandparents wanted me to visit the temple of the community deity before my grade 12 exams (which actually got cancelled due to corona later). So, on a study holiday in between the practicals, my parents, my grandfather and my sister and I drove down to the temple which is on the outskirts of the city.
"I measure the progress of a community by the degree of progress women have achieved."
But since I was menstruating on that day, I was supposed to stand outside the temple while the others went in. I seriously didn't mind one bit as I found it infinitely refreshing standing near a millet field than in a jostling crowd waiting for the puja to begin.
Millet field aside, I was fascinated by a bunch of small boys playing drums (Tamil percussion instruments I wish I had asked the names of) outside the temple. They played enthusiastically for a while near the entrance and stopped to take a break when the puja started inside.
Three of them, who mush have been about 10 or 11 years old were playing the instruments while one was a toddler. I walked over to them and tried to strike up a conversation.
"Cultivation of mind should be the ultimate aim of human existence."
I first complemented them because they truly sounded great and there was an air of authenticity about them. It was a little before the second wave of COVID-19 and they said that they too had online classes, at night though, which was surprising.
However I couldn't get many questions in because they were as curious about me as I was about them. They asked me where I lived and studied and even about my dental braces.
One of them was reserved and couldn't seem to wait to get back to playing the drums. The other two boys were friendly and one of them was wearing a white veshti.
I don't remember their names but I remember the incident and the time too well.
My father came out for a while and shot a video of them in their element. I was so awed that if I had some more time, I would have asked them to teach me to play the instrument too!
The puja was over inside the temple and people were waiting for the prasadam. Some of went to drink water, which was also inside the temple compound.
"Equality may be a fiction but nonetheless one must accept it as a governing principle."
The veshti-clad boy walked inside, leaving his instrument with his friends. He went to get water for him and the other boys.
Scarcely had he stepped outside the compound with a cup of water when a short, old woman came after him and start talking to him in a loud and authoritative voice, which you could easily decipher as rude even if you couldn't hear her.
She gesticulated, pointed at him with a demeaning finger and spoke fast while her contorted countenance seemed to want to fix on the boy to direct her anger at him, but wanted to look away at the same time.
"Indifferentism is the worst kind of disease that can affect people."
The boy just meekly nodded. The other boys and I watched the scene from a distance. No one else present spoke.
I could understand that he was being insulted for stepping inside the temple.
I did nothing, like the rest of the people there, who were probably having various degrees of support for the witch-like woman. I wish I wasn't tongue-tied. But I was also on the receiving end that day - being side-lined for a natural, bodily reason. I did nothing except give the old woman a dirty look.
Perhaps there were more dirty looks shot in her way or she thought her tirade was going too far. In a less furious voice, she said to the boy, "You should understand, right. How can we touch the cup once you have drunk water from it? Next time, don't drink water from here."
She walked off inside the temple and the boy came back with the cup, which all of them drained in seconds.
"Be educated, be organised and be agitated."
After the encounter with that witch, all of the boys seemed less willing to talk. It was as if they were trying to make themselves as invisible as possible, in case something else they do turns out bad.
Only the smallest boy walked around confidently, he obviously didn't understand anything that happened.
Before leaving, my dad asked them to study well and I waved them goodbye.
On the way back in the car, I remembered that the date was 14 April 2021. Ambedkar Jayanti.
Wishing you an Observable Ambedkar Jayanti 2022.
