MADURAI: Thirty-one-year-old Stella Grace married a man from Govindanallur 17 years ago. Since then, she calls a village, on the edges of Virudhunagar district, her home. Yet, for at least five days of every month, she goes to her parents’ house, in a nearby village. The reason? Govindanallur is one of the five villages in the region still following the muttuthurai system, a custom mandating menstruators live in isolation in a hut, without any interaction with other villagers.
Each of the villages has a muttuthurai and all those menstruating stay there during their period. “Living in Govindanallur during my periods is torturous,” Stella Grace explains. While not very well-maintained, the muttuthurai here is a single room with electric points and a concrete roof. A functional toilet is located behind it. Those residing in the room clean the facilities.
It is not just menstruators who have to stay in the room. Women have to spend 30 days in the room after childbirth. This was, in fact, Stella’s introduction to the system. Her dislike for the room is shared by others but a few wish to talk about it fearing elders. “A relative, who has two daughters, sold off house here and moved to another village as he did not want his children to go through this,” says 27-year-old Ruthra, another resident. “There is no good school nearby. So, most of the girls live in hostels for school and college. In fact, even when they are home for the holidays, they return to the hostels when they get their periods,” she says.
The pandemic and related lockdowns made the experience worse. While students living at hostels returned to the villages en masses, others like Stella could not escape to her parents’ home for months. “So many of us would have to stay together in the little building,” Ruthra recalls. “These girls would attend their online lessons there. Some even wrote their exams while in the house,” she says. “We have a good understanding among ourselves. So, others sat outside or slept to make it easier for the children.”
The custom is linked to an old legend, which warns that women who do not stay in muttuthurais while menstruating will not bear children. “I have been following this since I was in school,” says Ruthra. “We would go to school directly from the room. Our mothers would serve us food there. Sometimes, women staying there will cook for all the residents,” she explains.
Five kilometres away from Govindanallur is Koovalapuram, which also follows the system. Shanthi*, a 13-year-old, who had just attained puberty, is to spend the next 30 days at the muttuthurai. “That is the custom,” says Mylammal, a 70-year-old villager, as her two-year-old granddaughter sits on her lap.
A few metres from the muttuthurai is a small cement structure, meant to be the toilet for the room’s residents. Outside the toilet is a dysfunctional handpump. “Women only use the toilet in emergencies at night. Otherwise, they go to the fields behind to relieve themselves,” says Mylammal. Shanthi, seated a little away from her, gazes silently at the fields. She has had to take an indefinite break from school, owing to her period.
This isn’t the case for all women here. As in Govindanallur, many of the women in Koovalapuram also go to schools, colleges, and work while staying at the muttuthutrai. T Selvakani, an organic farmer from Koovalapuram, says sometimes eight or nine women would live together in one room. Mylammal says even the pandemic did not change this. Worse, unlike the room in Govindanallur, the muttuthurai in Koovalapuram has neither electric points nor proper network coverage.
As a result, the youngsters forced to stay in the room often missed online lessons during their periods. “A lot of them have laptops that they got through the government scheme. But due to the practice, they were forced to skip classes or attend them while seated outside their homes, even when it rained,” says Selvakani, who actively opposes the system. He fears for the safety of those forced to stay in the room. “I don’t think the younger generation is too keen on practicing the system but they are left with no choice,” he says.
In Koovalapuram too, a myth is linked with this system. “Our god Muththirular told our ancestors this system has to be followed or something disastrous will happen to the village,” says Paapa, an older villager. “This system will not vanish until we educate people properly and spread awareness that menstruation isn’t something unusual, but a normal bodily process, “ says Renuka CK, head of the Centre for Women’s Development and Research, Chennai. “This is why sex education is important. If this generation is educated, they will ensure that the future generations are not troubled. These practices were developed to only discriminate against women,” she says.
Asked how long the practice will last, Paapa says it will not end. “We will ensure that everyone in Koovalapuram practices this,” she says. Mylammal points to her granddaughter. “A few years from now, she will start menstruating. We will ensure that she spends her days in muttuthurai too.” The toddler, eating a bar of chocolate, smiles.
Sometimes, ignorance can indeed be bliss.
*Name changed