Crossing the North-South Divide
Animals
are territorial by nature and humans belong to the Animal Kingdom! We take our
borders very seriously- the ones beginning from personal space to national and
international borders and beyond. We tend to quickly form groups and identify
with it and almost immediately, become hostile to everything else! Each group
stands together against a threat and the group gets larger against a larger
threat- there are exceptions to the rule- one look at North Korea would tell
you that!
I
am about to address the issue of the great North- South divide, in our country.
India is a country which practices Unity in Diversity. We stand together as one
but just as in school where our teachers scream over the microphones to
maintain one arms distance so also we carry that concept forward into all our
associations in life- the distance varying with trust.
When
it started, how it started or why it started, I have never bothered to find
out. Possibly, it stems from the inferiority complex each person (singularly or
collectively) has but likes to claim he/she doesn’t but the person he/she
interacts with does. The constant show of I am superior continues (Remember
transactional analysis “I’m okay, you’re not okay”). The bottom line is that it
does exist and I am the perfect person to guide you into this great world of
oil and water!!
I
am a South Indian, Malayali from Kerala (don’t for a moment think it’s obvious-
people from North India don’t always know that; most don’t know the difference
between Malayalam and Malayali which is subtle compared to the frequent group
of “Madrasis” we find ourselves thrown into. If this makes you think that South
Indians who take great pride in their intellect know much about their North
Indian counterparts- well, it is Punjabis for most with a distrustful ring in
the voice while saying so). I consider myself an Indian first as is every fauji
(soldier) for I have lived everywhere else in the country, more than I have in
Kerala. To bring about national integration, the Gods decided I was to be one
of the many chosen ones.
When
I was 22 my parents were made to panic that their daughter wasn’t married off
yet so my mother, along with her sister went to the astrologer, with my
horoscope. He read it carefully and announced that I would get married soon, to
a boy that hailed from the same place as that of my birth. My aunt was
relieved. Her niece would marry a decent Nair boy (she had previously warned me
that she would never talk to me if I ever married into another community). My
mother was rather upset though and when asked why, she revealed that the place
of my birth was Agra in Uttar Pradesh. The sisters walked back in silence; my
aunt trying to reassure my mother every now and then that the astrologer said
birthplace but meant Kerala. My mother nodded unconvinced.
Flashback
to college days…It so happened that my parents had an argument which I happened
to witness from the adjacent room. The results of most arguments were in my
father’s favour. This time, however, it was clear to me that he shouldn’t have had
the last word. So, when he walked out and I heard the door shut louder than
usual, I walked in and looked at my mother who was sitting silently, irritation
writ on her face. Courageous me (now that my father was out of the house) said,
“Why did you give up on this one? You were right. I heard it all!” “That’s the
way it is with Nair men-it’s their way or the highway!” she snapped back. I
raised my voice with emotion and announced, “In that case I shall never marry a
Nair.” “I see! So, should I start looking for Punjabi boys for my daughter?”came
an angry voice and that tigress in me that had barely emerged turned into a
hapless kitty as I realized that the door that had been shut wasn’t the front
door but the bathroom door and that my dad had been right there when I roared
thus! I don’t remember what transpired after that, (possibly my defense
mechanism at work) but it was clear that my father couldn’t dream of getting
his children married out of the community.
Well,
as I said, the Gods had the plans they did and in due course of time, I met and
fell in love with a man who was half UP-ite and half Punjabi, thus proving the
astrologer and my father right.
A
bit of fast forward here-the wedding ceremonies were done in the Kerala style
and the north Indian boy wore a traditional “kasavu mundu” and it was a rather
simple blink and miss ceremony unlike elaborate never ending North Indian
weddings. The in-laws were missing the horse, I am sure, and the pomp and show
of their usual weddings. In fact, they were twenty- twenty five relatives of
the happy groom, in all, who had made it from Delhi and were outnumbered by the
“Madrasis” of “Keral”!! In case you are wondering how they permitted such a
blow to their “Ladkewala” (boy’s) side- it was because the engagement and
reception ceremonies were done in Delhi to cater to their folk. Meanwhile the Malayali counterparts were shocked to see glass bangles along with gold bangles on the bride's "mehendi"hands. In Kerala nothing but gold works!
The
discomfort and unease that both sides felt and were trying to hide behind extra
smiles and bonhomie were known to the bride and groom of course, but we
couldn’t do much and were happy that the uncertainty was now over for good. We
couldn’t wait for the whole lot to disappear and have some mush time to
ourselves. Well, the biggest shock the boys’ people (my in-laws) had was that
the groom was about to spend the first night at the bride’s place and not vice
versa. It was unheard of in the North but not uncommon in the South.
Personally, I think it should be followed everywhere because the girl needs to
be comfortable in her surroundings to open up. The boy, no matter where he is
would be treated as God- definitely not so, for the girl. Anyhow, this was the
first of many differences to come!
Well
for starters, let’s take the cuisine. My parents were paranoid about what their
son-in-law would relish, especially my father, and they left no stone unturned
to have “aloo-mutter”, paneer capsicum, “dal”, chicken “parathas” etc made to
suit the God’s oops! Son’s (in-law) taste!! One of my favourite tea time snacks
is “pazham pori”- banana fritters of sorts, a speciality in Kerala, but this
wonderful man of the North I was married to, looked horrified when offered to
him. “Kele ke pakode” he said, as he flinched, irritating me no end. While my
parents were shocked at the reaction and instructions were given for “pakodes”
for the “damaad” (son-in- law) I began an argument on how he insulted my favourite
dish by calling it a “pakoda”. “Pakodas are made of gram flour and they are savouries
but Pazham poris are made in refined flour batter and are sweet. All those
terrible men who claim that women change men after they get married should know
that we’ve been married nearly twenty years and he still calls them KKP!!
Days
later, we reached Delhi and there was a huge reception in the true North Indian
way and I, the bride was probably the least stunning in the crowd! My friends
from college were horrified that I had a cardigan on (which was not matching
either) but it was January and I was cold. The day after that, things were back
to normal and I began my life in the new household, extremely cautious of my
mother-in-law. I was petrified of her, knowing she wanted a demure, Punjabi or
any North Indian daughter-in-law and knowing even more that I was faking the
demure bit and that she could see right through it. My darling sister-in-law
was the only one who calmed my nerves and of course my father-in-law, who was
full of life and with whom I hit it off really well. My mother had instructed
me to wake up with my mother-in-law so I had asked Mama as meekly as I could as
to when she woke up and she said four! I froze! It was winter! Four was
inhuman! I decided I would wake up at six and tell my mother I tried. I woke up
at nine!! Believe me, in all of my life until that day, I had never ever slept
beyond seven! I was horrified. My husband was not bothered and kept sleeping.
Well, it was his home! I jumped out of bed and managed to reach Mama in the
kitchen. She was busy cooking and she said she was making a North Indian
specialty for me. I was touched and smiled. It wasn’t returned. I, not to be
deterred, asked her pleasantly, what she was making and she said “Kadhi”. It
took every bit of self control there was in my body, mind and soul to not
scream “NOOOOOO”. That is probably one of the few things I couldn’t stand (I
don’t mind it now) at that time. I, however, faked a happy smile and said “Wow”
unlike the son-in-law who had flinched at pazham pori!
My
mother-in-law had doubts whether her son would ever get fed well enough by me.
She was right. I couldn’t cook anything but tea, eggs and Maggi when I got married.
For months after we moved in to our home, it was always rice and dal(lentils)
and on days I made a fully cooked potato fry, my husband would be so delighted!
Then I learnt how to make the North Indian “Chhole”(chickpeas) and “Rajma”(kidney
beans) from her (Mama cooks them really well and they are my husband’s
favourites), lest she thinks her son will get fed “saambar”(in the north, it is
pronounced as the deer is whereas it is “saambaar” but they couldn’t care less
and neither do their south Indian counterparts have any remorse while puckering
up their nose and saying rajjamma for rajma) for the rest of his life.
For
Keralites , Onam and Vishu are the two major festivals. There are other minor
festivals too but they don’t really count as much. My parents’ idea of
celebration of every festival was mostly food related. The only festival which
had vigour was Diwali with lights and crackers- otherwise it was just the
cuisine that mattered. So, I really never knew the nitty-gritty of any festival
till I became an adult and was exposed to the world myself. My parents had simple
thinking- work hard and remember the Lord just before you sleep and just after
you wake up. They didn’t believe in rituals. When they went to the temple they
prayed with all devotion but if they couldn’t go, it didn’t really bother them.
Our father had forbidden superstition so we dared not voice any if we had them.
My parents fasted for a day or two in a week for the well being of the family
but it wasn’t a strict fast (no alcohol, no non-veg). Coming from such a
background and having formed my own religion in my mind (they followed avatars
of Vishnu while I have been a Shiva follower) I did what I felt like. There was
and there is no one between the Lord and me.
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Credits: patrika.com |
When
we got married, the all important North Indian festival of Karva Chauth
happened. This is a major festival for married women in the North where they
fast from dawn till the moon is visible at night. Ideally, they don’t even drink
water but this may vary with your tolerance level and the magnanimity of your
mother-in-law. This fasting is done by the wives and even girl friends, out of
love for their husbands/lovers to ensure that they live long lives. Now, this
festival was coming near and my mother-in-law asked me how I would be fasting!
Despite the fact that I was still trying my best to get into her good books,
this was so not me for I knew that it was extremely difficult for me to stay
off food. I knew I’d cheat and if anything happened to my husband after that I
wouldn’t forgive myself either so I told Mama that I wouldn’t be keeping the
fast. She couldn’t believe her ears but I told her as earnestly as I could that
I couldn’t pray for anybody’s long life on an empty stomach and that I might
actually curse everybody in sheer hunger. Mama was disappointed all over again
(what could be expected from a south Indian bahu) and I felt bad but I had to
be honest.
My
mother and I are very close and we talk about anything under the sun. Long ago,
while still in college, she had told me after hearing a friend cry over her
rude daughter-in-law, that whenever I got married I should never come between
mother and son. She told me once again before I got married, “Remember always
that he was first her son before he became your husband and whatever you love
about him is because of how she brought him up. Always give her that respect
and never come between them.” I have always followed that and treated Mama with
utmost respect. And yet, this fasting I just could not do.
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Credits: in.pinterest.com |
On
Onam, it is my husband’s turn to feel jittery. He is petrified of the “Sadya” (feast)
which is served on banana leaf and has to be eaten using his fingers. What
makes it even more difficult is the fact that he is left handed. Again, north
Indians use both their hands usually, while in the south the left hand is
forbidden. The cuisine itself is a battle for the man. While most of the daily
dishes are okay some which are laden with coconut are just not to his liking
but then again, Gods are allowed to be fussy so he gets away with it!
Starting
from the language issues when we meet relatives to their expectation of us
(again, more in the North than in the south though I wonder if it is a gender
thing) to our basic way of thinking, we are so different. This would have been
a lot worse if it were a joint family system. Not that couples don’t survive
there, it is just that it gets a lot tougher. And yet, the bottom line is that
love conquers all. If you love one another and have the will to make it last,
then nothing else matters.
Wow! Loved it! Write more please!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much...you keep me going :)
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed reading it Anu
DeleteThanks a ton Sheena :) :)
DeleteLoved the KKP. It has a ring to it which reminds me of BKT! Girl, you rock. Keep writing dear. Love reading your blogs
ReplyDeleteThank you ever so much :)
DeleteLoved it!!So relatable...I am still laughing about the mismatched sweater..
ReplyDeleteGreat going Anu.
Thank you so much Simran :) :)
DeleteVery nice!!!! Loved reading it... looking forward to read more.
ReplyDeleteThanks a bunch Sree :) :) :)
DeleteAnother good blog.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much :) :)
DeleteSo well written..... Looking forward to more...
ReplyDeleteThank you so much...hope to give you more :)
DeleteFabulous Anu! Love the humour....Keep writing & remember to share it on fb....love
ReplyDeleteThank you Kaveri :)
DeleteConnected immediately with the topic so true loved it😂😂
ReplyDeleteHa! Ha! Of course you would ;) Thank you so much :)
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