Now, No More Whispers…..Time to Talk

Life gave me numerous instances where I just said aloud, Oh, no… Now, No More Whispers…Time to Talk.

I was raised in a big joint family where 4 generations lived under the same roof with a common kitchen, so there was no place for whispers…the ladies and the girls of the house did not discuss private issues with each other. There was no place for educating the younger generation about Menstruation, puberty, and sex after marriage because it was a subject of wrapping under the carpets.

I don’t know how our previous generation survived but it was indeed difficult for me in the growing years.

Year – 1981

One day, I started bleeding and I thought that it was coming from a potty place. I was barely nine. I straight away went to my father and briefed him. In the first instance, he too did not understand what it was and asked how was the stool that I passed. My granny passed nearby while I was conversing with my father, and understood the “majra.”

She held me by my ears and took me inside.

I was shouting, “Dadi, leave my ears, it’s hurting.” Today, my loving dadi was acting as a monster.

“Stop discussing things with your father. You are growing and now you need to maintain distance with your father.”

She tied a pad of clothes reprimanded me to a separate room and asked me to stay there till I was bleeding.

I started crying unable to understand the reason for the sudden punishment.

“Why are you punishing me? What wrong I did do? You gave me a pad of old clothes for bleeding; Papa would have got proper bandage and medicine to stop bleeding.” I was howling at her. She loved me a lot and never had I seen this face of her. Innocent heart cried with hiccups.

I saw my Maa coming…I was afraid, what next…!

“Tum kal school nahin jaogi, teen din baad jaana hai, tab tak isi room main rahogi. Yahin par khaana and tumhare jaroorat ka samaan mil jayega. Papa, chacha, dada kisi se milna nahin hai abhi.” Maa said.

“Kyunnnnnnnnnnn…” I howled at her.

“You will understand later, tab tak suno, jo bola gaya hai. I, dadi and bua will take care of your things.”

I was uncomfortable with the pad that Dadi had stuffed and this dingy room. I was a talkative and active girl who could not sit quietly; it was tough for me.

As soon as my Maa left the room, I removed the pad… pad of the old era, literally a rag of old clothes. I took a bath and changed my dress.

At lunchtime, Maa arrived with a dish of my favorite food and a bag. When she saw me in a different dress, she changed into a live monster (it was my perspective).

“Who gave you clothes to change and why did you take a bath” Maa shouted

“Who will give, don’t I have the freedom to dress as per my choice? I took out myself and had a bath and threw the bandage of rag in the bathroom.” I said.

She ran towards our common bathroom understanding what the hell I had done. She cleaned and took a bath. When my dadi knew about my doings, my mother was too spared from the kitchen that day and my dadi took charge. I could not understand what commotion was going on in my house…it was beyond my capacity to understand the scene.

Now was the chance of my bua to arrive.

She came with my lunch and giggled, “Khaana khao, maze karo, school nahin jaana hai. Masti time. School main leave application submitted.”

I screamed at her on top of my voice and threw the plate she was carrying for me.

I saw a troupe of ladies standing at the door, all four generations, badi dadi, dadi, Maa. Eyeing me with witch-like looks. Maa entered my room and gave me a tight slap for throwing tantrums…others did not enter – assuming me to be untouchable on that day.

On the fourth day, I went to school. My class teacher asked me to meet her personally after school dismissal. I was frightened from inside…what next was in store for me today?

I was literally shivering while entering the staffroom fearing another hungama.

My class teacher appeared cool and welcomed me with a broad smile. She cajoled me and took me to the school garden. She asked me the reason for being absent, taking my hand into hers. Tears rolled down my cheeks due to her comforting gesture that too after rigorous three days.

“Share with me, dear. I understand your fears. The application was received and it mentioned three days leave so I understood the issue.” She said.

“I did not understand, Ma’am. Why punishment for bleeding? What wrong I did?” I said.

“You did nothing; it is the call of nature. Every girl goes through; it is a monthly period. On the onset of teen or a year before, you bleed once a month and it proves that you are fertile. So, don’t be in distress. There would be significant changes in you and mood swings.” She said.

“Ma’am, you too,” I asked with words in my cheeks.

She told me that all girls and women go through once in a month, Gift of nature. It is tough for some due to pain and cramps…but slowly girls get used to it and manage. She told me that she would talk with my mother to take care of me and keep me with her in my trying days to comfort me. I sighed with relief.

My class teacher spoke to Maa and explained to her to pacify me during monthly periods. Maa was educated but could not go against the wishes of the elders of the family. The teacher stressed her to be caring and comforting and not to ostracize me. She shared that in South India, periods were celebrated and it was not a subject of hush…hush.

At school, a slide show was shown on the subject of taboo, “monthly periods” which was comforting for all girls – what, why, and how to manage those trying days. It was organized by Stayfree company and free distribution of pad-pack of two to all girls of 4^th std to 7^th std.

The perspective of Maa changed drastically and she bought sanitary pads and special panties for me for those special days. I say special because I was treated as special with a dose of extra care. She taught me how to handle, maintain cleanliness, and avoid tangy foods during those days. She sewed a secret pocket in my school bag and their two pads lay permanently.

Badi Dadi and Dadi were angry at my Mom for not keeping me in a special room. I shared a room with my Maa in those days. Maa got two sets of holidays in a month, one for her periods and one during my periods, considered ‘dirty period’, and was asked to stay away from the kitchen.

The closeness increased between us (Me & Mom), and with the help of my teacher, we became friends and discussed all topics under the sun but in whispers, or else elders would have gone mad, and my young bua, was also partner in secret crime.

2024

In Jan.2024, get together was organized, and we caught up after a decade with my daughter-in-law, bua with her married daughters, and our partner in crime Maa, adorned with prefixes Dadi Maa and Nani Maa. We had a fun time.

My mom saw my son carrying a pack of Sanitary napkins.

She teased him, “Mithaai laaye ho kya?”

“Haan, Naani maa, Anjana k liye” My son said being ek kadam aage.

We all laughed our hearts out and Maa shared the stories of horror of periods in her and our time. The Gen X was surprised to hear, and we all said in unison, Now, No More Whispers…..Time to Talk

This Story is a part of #Storytellersbloghop season 4, hosted by https://auraofthoughts.com and https://mywordsmywisdom.com