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Radha Warrier

Inspirational

4.7  

Radha Warrier

Inspirational

My Days In A Small Town

My Days In A Small Town

4 mins
616


The sleepy town of Fazilka, far removed from the bustle and crowd of metropolitan cities, just 16 km from the Indo- Pak border, was where my husband's posting had taken us that time. Such moves, from one part of the country to another at short notice had become almost a routine matter with me, and before long, I had settled down with my new assignment as a teacher. Many of my neighbors were also my colleagues, and soon we had a sizeable group, meeting during recess, after school hours, talking, joking, gossiping, and exchanging titbits.

Fazilka, as I said, was a small town with a close-knit and fiercely patriarchal society. Interestingly, the joint family system still prevailed there as most of the families depended on agriculture or business, where having joint assets was to their advantage. Thus, I used to get shocked initially when the same student brought sweets to the class to celebrate the birth of a 'brother', once in January, then in June, and again in September. Only later did I realize that the 'newborn brothers' were all second or third cousins living under the same roof. (Sadly, the birth of a female sibling, a child of one's own parents, was rarely mentioned.)


It was here that my friend and colleague Abha came across the strange incident which proved to be an eye-opener for all of us. As a teacher of the 2nd standard, Abha was in the habit of explaining new and difficult words to her little students with the help of examples. One day, a student of hers, on being asked to write a few lines on 'My family', wrote "I have 13 brothers and 11 sisters", obviously including cousins who formed a part of the family. Abha at once took up the task of explaining to the child the difference between 'a brother' and 'a cousin'. Initially, the child did not accept any explanation. They were all 'bhaiyas' and 'didis' for him. Moreover, he spent more time with cousins closer to him in age than with his own brother who was much older than him. But the teacher, with all her sincerity, did not give up. She had to make her little student understand the meaning of the word 'cousin'. Luckily, the little boy's siblings and cousins were studying in the same school. So she could conveniently explain to him the difference in the relationship. At last, the meaning of 'cousin' was clear to the child.


A week later was the Parent-Teacher Interaction. The same little boy's mother came up to the teacher-almost in tears. She burst out in a choked voice - "What have you done teacher? Ours is a joint family. In our family, we, as parents, try our best to keep our children away from these narrow distinctions in relationships. That is the only way to keep the family together, happy and united under one roof. Our children are only taught that they belong to this particular family. Father, mother, uncles, aunts- all are to be respected and obeyed in the same way. And all the children are brothers and sisters- not cousins. But today, my little boy points out at my sister-in-law's son and says-"He is my cousin, not my brother." The family is upset and my mother-in-law feels that I have been misguiding him, trying to cause a rift in the family. It pains me deeply and I feel helpless and guilty.

The teacher was dumbstruck. She had no words to say. What started as a simple explanation, had gone totally haywire. Later in the day, when our colleagues sat together discussing the incident and pondering over it, we realized that, indeed, is no Indian language is there a synonym for the word 'cousin'. The idea of family togetherness is so ingrained in us that even a second or a third cousin receives the honor of being referred to as 'a a brother' or 'a sister'.

This is our country where a guest is a God (Athitidev), a cousin twice removed is a brother and every passerby is 'uncleji'. But today, in our efforts to race ahead, outdo one another, and reach out for the stars, are we losing sight of these little nuances of courtesy, little acts expressing love, a sense of belonging, acceptance, and oneness? But it is these very acts and expressions that speak volumes of our culture, our unique identity, our Indian character. Let us hold on to it, value it and not let it slip through our fingers.


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