Busy with chatth

You have missed your blog deadline, by the way!

This was a friend who has read (or least gives me the impression) every post I have written. Thanks, mate. You are probably the only one who does and gives me the motivation to carry on.

So, where was I the last couple of days? Not looking for play-schools, I am afraid, but at my parents' for chatth - one of the most important festivals in my native state, Bihar. For over 10 years, my Mum fasts for 36 hours during the chatth festival for the well-being of her family. But it was for first time, she had all her kids (me and my three sisters), their spouses and respective kids to help out and provide moral support.

In that time, chatth has become really big in Delhi. Most parts of the city (especially East and West Delhi) come to a halt as thousands of people from Biharis celebrate the festival. Many more come to India Gate to pray to Surya (Sun) {Here are some stunning pictures from India Gate, taken by Mayank Austen Soofi.}

It was an interesting festival to participate in, and observe. My Mum and an old lady were the only ones fasting, but there were many more who wanted to route their offerings through the two. After all, it is much easier being religious when you don't have to undertake the hard rituals that go with it. Chatth requires people to fast without food or water for 36 hours and to make offering to sun while standing almost knee-deep in water. The last bit is difficult since the weather is cold enough to numb your legs.

In its move to the big cities, the festival has adapted quite a lot. The water-sources have moved from being rivers and lakes to a boat canal at India Gate and a 4 ft x 4ft tank at one end of a housing society. But it seems heated pool are still out of bounds.

Anyway, Mum was brave as she went through the fasting. Even with all the rackets the little ones made (five of them, include two under two years), she kept a smile on her face. Helped by a couple of neighbours, she made baskets-full of goodies and other things for the festival. Like us, when we were younger, the kids wanted to eat these things immediately. Like us, they were told to be patient until the offering had been made to the sun.

Me and my sisters had got together after such a long time, so there was loads to catch up on. Every now and then, a panic would set in when one of the kids went missing. Mostly, it was my daughter. Mostly, she was found at the home of a particular Didi (elder sister). It seems the little girl has discovered a passion for aimless wandering. She can do that for hours without getting tired.

It must have been 10.30 pm when we all went off to sleep. Much earlier than usual, but we all had to bath and get ready by 5.00 am. I knocked off straightaway and don't remember much of Saturday night. However, my brother-in-law woke up around two and found Mum busy lighting the earthen lamps that were to be taken to the temple. He advised Mum to have some shut-eye as it was still some hours before sunrise, but the lack of food and water had started hitting her hard.

She persisted with the task at hand and within an hour or so, others had started waking up as well. By 4.30 or so, we were all ready.

I was tasked with taking a bunch of sugarcanes to the temple, while Dad took the cane basket with all the goodies in it. Dad and Mum walked barefoot, but I chose to have footwear as I was wary of being struck by a sharp object in the dark. On walking out, it seemed a good decision as it was a rather chilly morning.

Our local priest had the temple cleaned up by the time we reached, and was getting the 4ftx4ft water-tank filled up. I don't know how the tank copes when there are more than two women, but seem to provide ample space on this occasion.

It seemed like an eternity before the sun rose, but a good-sized crowd had gather by then. I was impressed with their dedication, but realised soon it was to collect their prasada, within minutes of it being offered to the sun.

Mum was supposed to make the offering, get out of the cold water, change into a different saree, break her fast with ginger-and-jaggery and some warm water, followed by proper food. But those around would have none of it. The moment Mum stepped out of the water, they queued up to get their prasada so could get away quickly.

Everyone was taken in by the moment, apart from me. My antennas were less focused on the occasion, but more on making sure Mum was warm and had something to eat. Someone in the crowd remarked "foreign mein rahta hai to ekdum foreign hee bun gaya hai" (he stays abroad and has become a foreigner), but I couldn't care less.

If someone could be patient for 36 hours without food or water for her religious beliefs, the others could wait for 15 minutes for their's.

Or maybe I have become a foreigner in my own country!