I never ceased to admire the Haryanvi women in the villages. Upright in stature and well-built, they toiled from dawn to dusk tending to the fields of basmati rice, wheat or mustard. I seldom saw menfolk in the fields. Yet their society bemoans the birth of a girl child. The Haryanvis have gained disrepute with high rates of female foeticide. Indeed, all the families I know have sons but no daughters. My gardener paid a heavy dowry for his wife who is from Kerala! The reason for taking a bride from down south is that there’s a lack of chokrees or maidens in his village. No one in the family understands what she says and that includes him, he added.
A noticeable feature of all the women, especially in villages, is the strange way they wear the chunni or dupatta with the salwar kameez. It not only covers the head but hangs down to the chest obstructing view. It was during one summer that I understood the use of the piece of cloth. It protects the face from the searing hot wind or dirt under the relentless summer sun and protects them from the cold wind that blows from the north during the winters. But of course Bollywood has lent an aura of mystery and romance to the dupatta worn thus. Aren’t there songs in which the lovelorn hero implores his lady love to cover her face lest the queen of the night, the moon, goes into hiding behind the clouds shamed at the heroine’s beauty?
My neighbour had a particularly hilarious story to recount about the dupatta. She had been married a day or two when her eldest sister-in-law, who was similar in built, borrowed her salwar kameez. As was the custom, she too demurely covered herself with the dupatta. My neighbour’s husband took his sister-in-law for his newly wedded bride. He began to woo her with songs and romantic poetry. The mischievous sister-in-law led him to the mango grove behind the house and revealed herself. Thoroughly ashamed at being made such a fool, the man agreed to bribe his sister-in-law lest he be teased by the family members!
Later, the same friend had a harrowing time at her in-laws’ place with the dupatta. She had difficulty with her vision at night and refused to cover her face with the cloth. Her action drew snide comments not only from her family members but her neighbours as well. They said she was being disrespectful to the elders. Her act was regarded as a ploy to defy age-old customs. She was branded as a rebel of sorts. Much later, she was diagnosed with night blindness!
There is an interesting story about an army jawan not blinded by Vitamin A deficiency but by love. The newly married man missed his wife in a remote outpost. He poured his heart out composing sher-o-shayari (poetry) in praise of her beauty. His curious friends asked to see the only photograph he had of the woman. The jawan happily obliged. The photograph showed him smiling at a woman covered with the dupatta hung down to the waist.