One – Day Goddess

“Congratulations, Durgika! Anvita told me that you have been selected to represent your school at the state-level art competition.”

“Thank you, Anu Maasi. This year’s theme is ‘Nav Durga’ and I have decided to draw the ‘Brahmacharini’ avatar of Maa Durga.”

“All the best! I am sure you will make your school and family proud.”

“Thank you, Maasi!” The two girls hopped and skipped all the way to the
playground.

“Such a talented girl she is, Mausi Ji!” I spotted Durgika’s grandmother near us and smilingly told her.

“What’s the use of talent when there is a lack of beauty?” She smirked.

I was shocked to hear those words from a grandmother. Durgika is a bright and loving girl and perhaps, the most polite kid in our residential colony. She and my daughter Anvita both study in the same class in school. Her beautiful wide eyes and the bright smile make her an adorable nine-year-old kid. I have already observed in the past couple of weeks that Durgika’s Daadi discriminates between her two grandchildren. Durgika’s six-year-old brother Arihant was the apple of her eyes but she was always unhappy with her granddaughter. As their next-door neighbor I witnessed many such instances when Maasi Ji shouted and complained about her daughter-in-law and grand daughter. But this is the first time she blurted out such a shameful statement publicly. “What are you saying, Maasi Ji? Durgika is such a pretty girl!”

“You won’t understand as your daughter is so fair. With that skin tone, her mother should have named her Kaali instead of Durgika,” she said with disgust etched on her face.

“Well, if you put it that way, Durgika got that skin tone from her father. Shipra bhabhi is quite fair. Isn’t it, Maasi Ji?”

With anger and disgust on her face, Daadi walked away without another word.

The other day I made Palak Paneer and since I knew Durgika was fond of that dish, I went to their home with a bowl of it. The kids were already having their lunch and I could see tears flowing down Durgika’s cheeks!

“What happened, Durgi? Why are you crying?” I caressed her hair.

“Because she is a drama-queen! Arihant wanted to have one more egg so I gave him Durgi’s share. What’s the big deal in that? Siblings always share”, the grandmother said arrogantly.

“But it was meant for Durgi, Maa Ji. She should not have to sacrifice just because her brother wants to have more. It is so unfair!” Shipra Bhabhi said softly.

“Don’t teach me fair-unfair! Waise bhi jyada protein khilayegi toh jaldi maasik start ho jayega iska (If she eats excess protein then her periods will come early)!”

I could not help but think that this pathetic sounding woman was once a teacher herself. I let out a big sigh and handed over my bowl of Palak Paneer to Durgika.

“I have brought your favorite dish, dear. Eat this and be smart and healthy,” I could see the sparkle returning to her eyes. But another incident in the following week made me dislike that woman even more. It was the day before the art competition and Shipra Bhabhi went to visit her mother at the hospital. She cooked lunch and requested her mother-in-law to make the rotis afterwards.

“Char Roti banane mein kitna hi time lagega mujhe (How much time will it take me to make four rotis? You go and come back before the evening Puja,” she assured her daughter-in-law.

The children came back from school at 2 pm and half an hour later I found Durgika crying at my doorstep. She kept crying and pointing to her right hand wrist. It seemed red and painful.

“My wrist touched the hot tawa, Anu Maasi. It is burning and paining,” her voice was trembling.

I held her wrist under the cold running water for some time and applied ointment on the burn. It was a minor burn and I just hoped that she won’t get any blisters from it.

“But how did it happen?”

“Daadi asked me to make the rotis. I told her that I have never done it before but she kept on insisting. I managed it somehow but my wrist touched the tawa while turning off the knob of the gas,” she sounded so sad and desolate uttering those words.

That night Durgika got two big blisters on her wrist accompanied by high fever. Participating in the art competition next morning was out of question. This time Durgika’s father expressed his dismay to his mother. Upset, his mother did not eat anything the next day. Both her son and daughter-in-law had to apologize before they could coax her to eat her dinner.

Meanwhile, the Durga Puja was fast approaching and we all became busy with
Puja shopping and cleaning the house. The children were extremely happy
counting their Puja gifts. Soon it was Mahashtami and we all went to the nearby
Puja pandal to offer Pushpanjali to the goddess.

“Why did you make her wear that red frock, Shipra? Didn’t I tell you to get lighter
shades for her? This mother-daughter duo don’t value my words at all!” Shipra
Bhabhi kept her silence as she knew her mother-in-law would create a scene then
and there.
We were silent on our journey back home. As I was about to enter my home
Durgika’s Daadi called out. “Anu, tomorrow is Navami and I am arranging Kanya
Pujan at my home. Kindly send your daughter around 11 a.m. She will be one of
my nine Kanjaks.”
“So Durgika is also one of the Kanjaks right?”
“Yes, yes. She is the main one. I even bought a peach colour lehenga for her. You
all think I don’t care for her at all.”
“Sorry Maasi Ji. But I won’t send my daughter to your Kanya Pujan. Durgika is the
one-day goddess for you, isn’t it? And you treat her in a completely opposite
manner on the other 364 days. She is the Devi for Kanjak pujan but for the rest of
the year she is just a dark-skinned, useless girl for you. This hypocrisy and dual-
faced behaviour disgust me and I refuse to be a part of your One-Day Goddess
sham. Please stop this gender discrimination and shaming your own granddaughter.
Otherwise, even Devi Durga won’t accept your offerings,” I said without beating
around the bush. I certainly didn’t mince my words.

She did not utter a single word and went back to her home in complete silence. I
may have sounded a bit rude but if my harsh words could usher in the slightest
change of heart, I would consider it as the perfect observance of my Navami Kanya
Pujan ritual.
Pandal- hopping on Ashtami evening was extra delightful as Anvita’s Daadi and
Nani joined her like every year. Both the grandmothers performed Kanya Pujan
with Anvita and gifted her nine books of different genres. At that moment, our
doorbell rang. I was surprised to see Durgika’s Daadi at our doorstep.
“I brought Anvi’s share of prasad and gifts. May I give it to her?” Mausi Ji softly
asked.
“Absolutely,” I replied with a gentle smile. I could feel the change in her tone.
Mausi Ji touched Anvita’s feet, gave her the Prasad and a beautifully wrapped gift.
“Thank you so much, Daadi,” Anvita skipped back to her room.
“Whatever you told me yesterday was correct from your perspective. But I want to
tell that I am not entirely wrong. My own niece, who is a successful dentist, could
not get married because she was rejected by the groom’s side because of dark
complexion. Durgika’s Art teacher Shalini remained unmarried as she has squint in
one eye. Our society still wants the daughters-in-law to be fair and beautiful.
Consider the parameters in matrimonial advertisements and you will find everyone
wants fair, beautiful, homely and educated — qualities in that order even now!”
she said in a soft but firm voice.
“But when we know that the society is wrong shouldn’t we try our bit in course
correction? If our girls feel supported and motivated at home, they can fight all
odds to achieve their dreams. Marriage is no longer the ultimate goal of a girl’s
life. Please let go off that notion and then you can find some serenity in your own
life, ” I told her in a gentle tone.

“It is easy to say but very hard to face,” said Mausi Ji and left for home.
“Hard but not impossible,”I murmured to myself. Our little girls are indeed perfect
and unique in their own ways. They need not be Goddesses to prove their Shakti.
Let us all raise them to be strong individuals who can one day write their own
destiny.

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