What’s common between a bowl of zarda, a ginger cat and hot jalebis?
Scenes from a Republic Day weekend
On a surprise visit home, I found my home-town Dehradun splashed in one colour - the orange in triangular Jai Sree Ram flags mounted atop shops, cars, houses, trees, temples, and almost every crossroad I drove from the airport to my parents’ home. As the inauguration of the Ram Temple in Ayodhya had only happened a few days ago, the scenes were not surprising, but the irony lay in these representations overshadowing the Republic Day colours. I only saw the tricolour fly high at airports and in the hands of security personnel at Delhi airport waving it to the tunes of AR Rahman’s Vande Mataram.
The moment I got home, my sister’s cat began perambulating around me, sniffing and ensuring that it was a familiar scent. We sat down for tea and rusks, with questions on my sudden visit and my mother reading my heart saying, “you were missing home and winters.” I nodded as I chewed on the tea-dunked roasted biscuits. Later, I wore my sister’s hoodie, pulled up my socks quite literally and sat in front of the heater next to Mum, while the cat found his way to fit himself between us. We had palak chicken and daal saag for dinner and discussed the new pracheen mandir re-instated at the intersection near our home that had week long celebrations, which only culminated on 22nd January.
The following day, the gardener came on his cycle bearing the Jai Shree Ram flag. The sun was warming every inch of the garden gone cold in the wintery night. Fresh daisies were blooming and the litchi tree had been bearing new leaves. Dad and I later went to buy some jalebis and samosas. At Chanchal Dairy, we were greeted with sights of imartis, boondis among other local delights. Dad asked me to tell the confiseur to make jalebis small and crispy. The guy smiled and later offered me one from a fresh batch. The hot sugar syrup laden jalebi made a nice crunch as I bit into it, and immediately melted into my mouth. He smiled and said pointing towards my father, “Uncle bohot saaloein se aatey hain yahan.” Of course he would not disappoint a regular customer.
The afternoon was spent in the company of a dear friend, while we drove through town, talking and catching up with each other. She honked loudly at an Innova driver who had overtaken from the left, and I was calm knowing she had a mata ki chunni tied to her mirror. (My Dad used to hang a pendant with Allah written in Arabic on his car’s mirror, but he hasn’t hung anything since that pendant broke). We drove past Dehradun’s Astley Hall and took a turn left into New Cantonment Road to find almost the entire street decked in Jai Shree Ram flags, from tea stalls to houses. Not a single Indian flag could be spotted. She later dropped me home and Amma packed her a box of zarda that was prepared to celebrate Hazrat Ali’s birth anniversary a few days ago.
Yesterday, my father and I went to drop my sister at the inter-state bus terminal, and 10 minutes into the trip, my sister realised that she’d left her water bottle at home. Luckily, a cousin brother was home and we asked him to bring it over. While we waited for him to come, on the opposite street, a middle-aged woman was watering her plants in a garden outside her home. Her oasis, outlined by a waist high hedge, and possibly two mango trees growing along other plants. The single storey house was well-maintained, had a solar geyser installed on the roof, a yellow sweatshirt drying on the clothes’ line, and two Jai Shree Ram flags hoisted on the roof and boundary wall.
What’s common between a bowl of zarda, a ginger cat, piping hot jalebis, childhood mate’s down jacket, and daisies growing in Amma’s garden? Wrong answers only.
Mariyam Haider is an independent writer-researcher, producer & host of Main Bhi Muslim podcast, and spoken word artist creating works on feminism, culture and society. Her writing has appeared in Scroll, Kontinentalist, Asian Review of Books, Centre for Feminist Foreign Policy, AWARE, Livemint, Mekong Review, among others. You can connect with or follow her work on Instagram or LinkedIn.
Looking around at all the flags and wondering what is it that they are celebrating. It took one event to find out that People we thought we knew are now unfamiliar.