It’s that time of the year again, when I start monitoring the moon rise for a few days before the D-day hits. I have no astronomical interests and neither have I ever had the patience to sit tight and wait for a star to come up - Ask my mother, I barely have the patience for the rotis to be done! Anyhow, so here it arrives, Karva Chauth – India’s annual edition of the Hunger Games, with just one difference. There’s no winning for us Katniss Everdeens in this version. We aren’t mobilizing armies, saving the world or winning conquests – we’re barely winning that day and making it through sane.
In true keeping with fan-girl tradition, I read and re-read Twinkle Khanna’s piece on Karva Chauth as we neared this date and ended up doing a bit of research on my own. Karva Chauth originated in the North Western part of India where women fasted for the safe return of their husbands who would leave their families and go to war. Umm, we stay in Bengaluru – the only war we’re facing is Marathalli bridge or Silk Board traffic. The only other thing stopping us from our safe return home is an Ola cab who cancels after calling to check the destination or ridiculous surge-pricing on Uber (Take my kidney also – would you be happy then, Uber?)
Another version of the origin says that way long ago, in the pre-kitty party era, girls who married young and had to live with their in laws in other villages and towns would tend to feel lonely at times – hence, during the wedding ceremony, the bride would befriend another woman of similar age or in the ballpark who would play her sister for life. Hence, a festival named Karva Chauth was devised to celebrate this relationship. Now, how going without food or water for the husband came into the picture is anybody’s guess, but silent cheer to those soul sisters we have who we can crib to about everything including this day at times, in excruciating detail!
Karva Chauth in the recent times has become an opportunity for jewelry stores to capitalize on, Ekta Kapoor shows to host specials on, News channels to go completely berserk with live sightings and KJo music in the background as women break their fasts. A company like DeBeers was smart to capitalize on proposals and came up with the Diamond engagement rings concept; it’s only a matter of time before someone realizes the potential of Karva Chauth to match up – plus, it is an annual event! Also, good luck getting a parlor appointment this day, even if all you need is someone to pluck the hair off your moustache. Though I myself get no gifts that day and end up indulging in more-limited-than-ever socializing that day, I always remember my first time.
I still vividly remember that October day in 2011, I wasn’t married and we were doing the “taara dekh ke todo” version of the fast. This is like the internship version of the full fast – As a reward for landing this true-blue Punjabi man, I get to starve the whole day, wait for a star to come out and then break my fast. It was promised to be a much faster sighting, apparently like reaching for the moon but landing among the stars. A philosophy which can work only in performance appraisal discussions because frankly, I discovered that the stars rise almost pretty much at the same time that the moon does. However, I remember that day clearly – And the discussions which led up to that day. The mister telling me that I don’t need to if I don’t want to, the mother in liaw sending us subtle hints that I should, my mother generally not following what is going on, my friends finding it fairly Awww but also laughing their heads off about it. In the days leading up to this, I was asked by the mother in law to buy a particular sweet to be consumed a day before Karva Chauth and was also asked to go shopping and buy something nice – Little bonuses!
Down to the day – It was a Saturday and I remember figuring out a plan by exactly Friday night – Lay in bed for as long as you can, wake up at 2 pm (Liberties you can afford when you’re not married and staying at your mother’s). Then watch a movie and get through 3 more hours, then get ready and go to a temple and meet the man for dinner. I had just gotten my license and was new to driving, though Bengaluru in 2011 wasn’t really the Lego version of Fast & Furious as it is now. It was fairly humanly possible to drive from Indiranagar to Vasanthnagar at 5 pm, without getting killed or hitting high blood pressure. So I got dressed in my finery, sent by the mother in law and waited downstairs for the man to meet me. In sauntered the person for whom this fast was, for his long life and well-being and what not. I remembered the DDLJ scene of Karva Chauth and whatever else I’ve learnt in KJo’s induction classes for beginners to married life. And I tried my best to remember that this should be an emotion of overwhelming love and a little bit of coyness. Funny, but at that moment all I could think of was to kill this very man. This very man, who’s been my best friend from college has to suddenly become this object of worship, while I give up what’s very dear to me – Food! My room doesn’t get cleaned without my consent, the ketchup brand at home doesn’t change without my consent, but my priorities were being reprioritized without my consent!
Moving on – I wanted to get on with this and get some food, so we got into the car, as I stayed quieter than usual and tried my best to avoid the million dollar question – where is my gift? We had argued several rupees of talk-time (Pre Jio days!) on this precious topic and it was made very clear to me, that I can be taken shopping but he can’t find me a gift independently. He asked me what I had brought to break the fast – I had some laddoos his mum had made and sent, I thought it most fitting to close the Hunger games with them. He then suddenly exclaimed that “Even he is waiting to eat them”. A little gasp and a little more back and forth later, at a traffic signal, I realized that he hadn’t eaten or drunk water since morning either. He said this is the least he could do and at least this way I wouldn’t be alone. In my head flashed KJo’s face and some K3G music played in the background – all the love came back! I hadn’t asked him to do this and I sure felt a little bad. But, then I saw the silver lining – we were miserable, hungry, grumpy and sore – but we weren’t alone. We were never going to be.
And its exactly the same till date – we both don’t eat or drink. We know the drill – Wake up exactly at 3 am and nudge the other one awake; gulp a liter of water down; sigh and go back to sleep; try to work from home or go to the office for some time; be back by at least 5 pm; read the story of Rani Veervati and her dedication to keep this fast; get the Puja thali ready by 8 pm consisting of a diya made of Atta, the Karva full of water to drink, the Chhanni and some sweets to eat; turn on Aaj Tak who reports moon-sightings like they’re UFO sightings, nowadays replete with mushy music as well. Till two years ago, I never saw the moon. I always saw what seemed to be the moon behind a thicket of clouds – that’s Bengaluru. No clear skies, when you really need them! Yet, the man would drive me around the block, to see if it was visible from another angle. Then when we would spot it, he’d stand patiently holding my thali while I’d struggle to get a good click on the phone.
Karva Chauth has now come to mean a lot more than just the hunger games to me. It’s one of those yearly adventures where it is just the two of us – just us to look over each other, just us to make sure we’re okay, just us to mock each other as we stuff ourselves with food. We don’t have anything remotely filmy about it, I’m rarely in anything more than pyjamas when we actually see the moon finally nowadays, but it’s still romantic and it’s still special – it’s our moment and though we’re waiting to head downstairs and chomp on food, we still find those several seconds to look at each other and giggle when we do the seeing through the chhanni routine. On that thought, I guess I declare my sixth edition of the Indian Hunger Games open – May we survive, may we triumph, may we see the moon at 6 pm tonight!
