Swamy Ayyappa - Part 1

“DON’T BE STUPID, YOU CAN’T GO THERE. It is impossible for a woman even to think of sniffing the air from the Sabarimala, let alone see the Lord Ayyappa Swamy,” Gayatri said. Her face radiant like an early morning sun, her eyes were blue marbles, imposing height and possessed excellent body. She wore a traditional white salwar kameez, but she looked so beautiful and anyone would feel like keep looking at her face even while she was sleeping.

“Why?” Subha said. Her hands were on her hips. She was little shorter than her friend, but was looking somewhat modern than Gayatri. She wore maroon top and grey tight jeans, the shapes of her stiff breasts were accentuated clearly. She had a strong build. She didn’t like the way the men handles some of the issues about the girls. She had always believed in struggles and freedom. After all her grandpa was a freedom fighter and he had adored the Mahatma Gandhi’s principles and lived by it until his death. He knew that the real freedom comes only when the girls wouldn’t be the puppets in men’s hands anymore.

“Because we are women,” Gayatri said. She had stopped from reading the column which she had written. It talked about the women’s after marriage struggles. How a girl suffers when she was unable to get pregnant within two years of marriage. The mother in law would blame her like a street dog and threatens her to give divorce. She knew this because her friend Lolitha was deported from her husband and she finally ended up staying with her parents again. She had forcefully given divorce only because she wasn’t unable to let the seed of baby grow in her womb. That wasn’t her mistake at all. The medical reports were said that she and her husband were still capable of producing offspring, but her mother-in-law had dead ear to this. She pushed her out of the house and thrashed onto the gate. No, Gayatri didn’t want to think about it now. She knew how it was hurting her soul like it was a constant throbbing pain.

“That is rubbish. You are a fool Gayatri. Don’t talk like an uneducated girl. I don’t know why you are writing this column about feminist anymore. What are you going to achieve if you don’t apply it in your personal life whatever you have written in the paper,” Subha said, she was visibly upset. Her breath was ragged as shook her head with puckering nose. She slowly looked at her again, she knew she was little harsh. “The change should start from you my dear. We have to make things happen. It is never going to happen if we keep talking about it and do nothing. Take some action towards it. Let the people bustle and hustle. But never give up our values. I mean women should be ready to face controversies if laymen people blame them. I think you understood what I……….” she said and looked into Gayatri’s eyes, which were already moistened. She felt like crushing the paper and throws it into the dust bin. If she were alone she would have screamed. She wasn’t angry with her friend, but herself. She knew how cowardly she had behaved these days. But she was helpless, she knew about it very well. What can I do? It’s my curse to be a woman, she thought.

“I can understand your point, but what should I do. You wanted me to go and enter inside the shrine of Sabarimala alone? No, that would be insane, because the devaswom board people would thrash me out of there. No, no, no,” she said and shook her head.

Subha stood up from her high backed chair and slowly came close to her and placed her hand on Gayatri’s shoulder and said, “If everyone is afraid and pull their feet away, what is the point of getting a historic verdict from the Supreme Court. I think that would lose its sanity and its noble cause for freeing the women. Don’t take fear to your heart. Let’s face the trouble for the sake of bringing change in our society. If we keep fumbling like this, nothing will come our way. We have to take action dear. I know I am persuading you, but only for our well-being. Let us enter the shrine of Sabarimala, let the other women follow us. And we will see, what’s the future going to bring us,” Subha said confidently. It was a perfect waking call for Gayatri, who felt some spark out of her talk. She felt like she had to do something. Yes, her mind was slowly growing with confidence, it was vague but it was there. Her blue eyes were glistening with courage, and she knew she was going to take some important decision now. She didn’t want to be a coward journalist anymore, she had to show the true spirit of the woman to others, let them follow her if wanted.

Gayatri pressed her soft lips tightly and shook her head, “Okay, I have decided to step into the temple. I wanted to receive the blessings from swami Ayyappa. I have worshipped him from the age of five. I don’t want to stop worshipping him because I became a matured woman and got my first period. God should decide if I am pure or impure. Every human being is equal before Him. Yes, every human being is equal before him,” she said as cried. The tears had burned her eye sockets, and she slowly ran her fingers to wipe it. Subha saw it and she stood there silently. She knew how her friend had liked to adore Swamy Ayyappa. Gayatri could still remember now how she and her father would wake up in the early morning and take bath in fresh water in the backyard of their house. The stingy cold would create shivers in her body and her teeth would be clattering inside her small mouth. Her father used to towel her head and give her the black shirt and trousers. Yes, she used to wear boys wear just not to reveal her legs. And they used to go and meet Guruswami Dasarathan in his house, where so many devotees would gather to get the sacred beaded chains from him. He used to teach them about how should become an ardent devotee of God Ayyappa. Gayatri would here these lessons with keen eyes and follow as he said. She had so much respect for him. And in the nights she would use to count her fingers to know still how many days were pending to climb inside the bus and travel to the Kerala to see the astute face of the Lord Ayyppa in temple. The memories were still fresh in her mind and it made her nostalgic and troubled. But when she had turned eleven, she was ready for another trip and asked her father with joyous heart about this pilgrimage. But her father gave her a compassionate look and said, ‘Gayu, you are not a kid anymore to visit the Ayyappa Swamy. You have grown up now. And the Lord is no more interested to meet you in His shrine.’ On hearing this, she had cried and cried. She felt like the world had come against her. What mistake have I done than grown up as a woman? Am I sinner if I become a woman? No, I don’t take this savage judgment. Don’t stamp me as some filthy object and throw me out of this world all of a sudden? I don’t think Swamy Ayyappa would hate women like that? God haven’t told me to not worship Him, but what happened suddenly, she asked herself. The myriad and frustrating questions ravaged her and it didn’t let her sleep for days. It was like mental torment and this sudden outburst had almost shattered her peaceful life and first time she had realized the separation between men and women. It only gave her a feel that women are meant to be slaves under the groans of powerful men. She didn’t like it at all. She had wept that day and her father had failed to console her, the mental wounds were terrible and didn’t heal fully yet.

“That’s a smart girl,” Subha said and clapped lightly. The employees in the office had stared at them awkwardly as if they had become crazy.

“When will we go?” Gayatri said.

“Today?”

“What about Vrithum?”

Subha’s expression was somber now and said, “If you have clutter free mind and pure heart, the purpose of Vrithum is achieved.”

Gayatri shook her head. “Okay, let the love of God begin now.”

A tall fellow who had stubby beard and wore full sleeved green shirt had stopped by them and said, “Hey girls, what’s going on here? Is the column ready Gayu?” he said. His voice was preening but tender.

“It’s ready. But for the first time I am going to take action as written in it,” she said and flourished the paper in front of him.

He grabbed the paper as looked at her with squiggly expression and said, “What happened to you girls?”

“We are going to Sabarimala to see the Lord Ayyappa,” Subha said. She folded her hands in front of her chest and looked at him in the eyes. She was happy to reveal this news to him.

“Are you girls mad or what? Did you see the newspapers and TV news channels? People are protesting there? If you go down there I think your name will come on the TV with flash news saying two young journalist girls were stone pelted and killed,” he said in a malicious voice. But he wanted to rein them with his fearsome talk, he knew it was something very difficult to go and worship their favorite God. He wanted to save them.

“Enough,” Subha said as showed her hand at him. “We had talked so many things about it. It is time to prove our women power. We have decided to take that initial action. We believe in the name of God.”

His mouth gaped at her and closed it after a few seconds. He knew Subha was a stubborn girl and it was useless to fight with a girl like her. He didn’t say anything but shook his hands with them and went to his cubicle with the column written paper in hand.