Follow the link to listen to the podcast of this story by my sister Lekha Warrior...
https://open.spotify.com/episode/7AU9ViKjViCir3443I7ZTZ?si=v0adwEvuQia3IRPY4hUJyQ
Though I was deeply relieved not to see snakes cover the land as we deplaned, India had in store for us her share of surprises. As I stepped into the toilet at my aunt’s house for the first time I was utterly terrified by the hole in the ground. I needed to be cajoled, guided and helped before I could be convinced that this was safe to use and that I would not fall right through.
The ceiling fan was as scary to me and I kept imagining it would fall on my head but then I think I was scared of just about everything. My brothers on the other hand were exploring and delighting in the adventure that was India. I remember Raj try to climb into the drum in which water was stored in the bathroom thinking that it was just a poorer version of the bath tub that we were used to. My little brother, all of three, scaled the grill that enclosed the veranda, proudly proclaiming to one and all that he was a monkey.
We were going to live with my dad’s sister and her family till we bought and set up our own home. My aunt’s house was a quaint, small cottage with a garden which had a mango tree, a breadfruit tree and fencing that was made of hedges of the henna plant. What I loved most about the whole coming home experience was meeting my cousin Vineeta. All at once, I now had what I had never had before – an elder sister.
Not very long after we reached home, Vineeta took us children to show us off to her friends. We were not yet tanned by the Sun of the subcontinent but the heat crept up on us and could be seen in the red cheeks on our white faces. We must have been strange-looking creatures to the local kids who laughed at our British accents and merrily pulled our cheeks, to see the colour deepen.
A few days into our stay, I also had my first brush with gender discrimination. A visiting aunt came home with two large, colourful ‘rakhees’ for my brothers. Decorative traditional threads that are tied by sisters on the wrist of their brothers to seek their protection. “This is only for boys,” she tried to explain to the very visibly distraught me. I was deeply hurt to be deprived of the tantalizingly attractive trinket and expressed my pain the only way I knew. As large tear drops started to wash my cheeks, my aunt panicked and rummaged through her bag. With a sigh of relief, she pulled out two pairs of colourful earrings. “Now this,” she said, “is only for girls and you can have it.” Even though I was only five years old, I knew that I had been dealt the better hand. I had indeed received the better of the two gifts. I was lucky to be a girl in India. Comforted by this thought, I let my brothers relish their ‘rakhees’ in peace.