70. The bridge too far

The ferry, and the bridge under construction

Back in 2008, five of us had undertaken a moderately arduous but exploratory trip upstream on and along the mighty Brahmaputra, from Guwahati in Assam to Pasighat in Arunachal Pradesh. To move across the masculine river, we had to ferry our vehicle from predetermined locations along the river bank. During the time lapse for the incoming ferry to unload and reload, we were witness to cultural effervescence with life bursting with engaging activities at the harbor. From traditional outfits to local foods, from alluring handicrafts to personal services on offer, there was much to do during the otherwise inconvenient waiting time. 

Once across the river from Dhemaji, the distance to the highway leading to Dibrugarh town wasn't that far. But on any given day it was an ordeal for some 250-odd vehicles to reach the highway as most of them would invariably sink into the pulverized sand to be negotiated before hitting the road head. Although we drove cautiously to avoid being sand trapped, odds were stacked against us as well. Much to our dreaded surprise, our collective wisdom was of little value in overcoming the unavoidable hurdle. Panic-stricken as we were, attempts at applying acceleration sank our car further into the sands.

Having run out of all options, we signaled those three youngsters who were helping others, to pull us out of trouble. With many vehicles falling into the sandy trap each moment, their services were over subscribed. Yet, they rushed towards us and in a couple of minutes our car was out of the muddle. They surprised us by charging a pittance for the benevolence.  

Divorced from the conventional idea of giving vehicles a forward push, those young guys instead gave the vehicle an alternate sideways lift to slide some shrubs underneath the tyres to secure a forward movement. It was no big deal, but why did it not occur to us? The whole point of jugaad is that it is never a big deal. No surprise, it is often said that common sense is often uncommon. But the point is that such a simple idea didn't occur to us but was borne in the minds of those who perhaps didn't drive themselves. To me it seems we are wired as an inbuilt cultural empathy to solve common problems, and to innovative solutions for the society at large.  

Ingenious ways of resolving societal problems come natural to us. It is thinking-out-of-the-box that is part of our cultural construct, and which while being taken as given remains grossly undervalued too. In a capitalist system, the value of a service lies in it fitting into the accepted norms of convenience. So be it. The 4.9 kilometre Bogibeel bridge over Brahmaputra, opened in 2018, has created convenience of movement like never before, cutting down on distance and travel time across the river. The ferry ecosystem that we briefly partnered with has run out of business since then. 

That the imposing bridge has distanced people from the river to which they belonged for their livelihoods and survival remains nobody's business. Over time, it is such convenient distancing that brews apathy among communities towards the(ir) river.

First published in The Hindu on July 25, 2021.

69. An adornment of unbreakable feelings

The Mohenjo-daro Girl

In these times of overwhelming stillness, nostalgia revives itself like baggage moving on a carousel. With not much demand on time, one begins to notice each of the moving baggage for its designs and colors to create a kaleidoscope in mind, which sends me on memory trail when the bangle-seller - churriwala - used to come calling to charm the young ladies and pull all of them out from their closet into the courtyard. The ensuing mini-celebration of the kind would curate many eyeball moments for youngsters like me. Much would get shared without a word being spoken, bangles being the romantic medium for the lucky few!  

Such occasions used to extend temporary escape for suppressed emotions, creating naughty moments of youthful exuberance. Lyricists have rarely let such moments wither away by trapping it into musical compositions that resonate for life. तेरे हाथों में पहना के चूड़ियाँ के मौज बंजारा ले गया (By squeezing bangles onto your wrist, the bangle seller had all the fun) from film Jaani Dushman (1979) clears misconceptions about the churriwala overstepping into the love birds' domain. Unspoken words get musical wings!  

Bangles have adorned women since antiquity, and may remain so for aeons. Ever since the alluring damsel with one armful of bangles and the second at her hip emerged from the Mohenjo-daro excavations (see pic), women's romance with bangles have only expanded through precious metals and exquisite glass. However, the collapse of imperialism and the triumph of capitalism have had the least of impacts on its tinkling presence in society. And, married women love bangles for the color distinctions that signify stages of blessedness.

The green is conspicuous for being virtuous, its colorful features vividly captured by Shailendra for the title song वादा लेंगी हरे काँच की चूड़ियाँ (Green bangles will seek a promise) from the film Hare Kanch Ki Chudiyan (1967). While red bangles signify energy and prosperity, it is green that helps women make the most of good luck and fertility in their lives. Yellow bangles are meant for happiness, white is for new beginnings, and orange for success. The melodious voice of Asha Bhonsle captures the varying shades of churri through the life of a woman.   

The impact of pandemic notwithstanding, bangles have continued to jingle-jangle on slim wrists. However, like lipstick and underwear indices, economists haven't drawn any for bangles to assess its contribution to the economy. Should someone attempt it, bangles would surely be in the race for being a significant contributor to sustaining an informal economy that impacts the livelihoods of a sizable chunk of the population. Firozabad, Hyderabad, and  Moradabad are notable for making this cultural artifact a national phenomenon. 

More than a colorful ornament of feminine adornment, churri as a medium with multiple messages hasn't been adequately acknowledged. For veiled women the tinkling chime of bangles comes handy to direct coded messages in a joint family. In more neutral situations, the message is subtle but direct. Anand Bakshi's lyrical expression मेरे हाथों में नौ नौ चूड़ियाँ हैं (I have nine bangles on my wrist) carries a teasing invite to her trolling lover from Chandni (1989). The musical appeal of the song is enduring.

Churri has a socially demeaning side to it as well, Although the practice of breaking bangles by widows has largely been discontinued, the proverbially message that it is the end of a part of her life she cannot repair continues to haunt. दिल हूम हूम करे, घबराए (The beat of the heart is disturbing) poignantly captures the longing the woman feels for her lover in the film Rudaali (1993). It documents the disturbing ritual, and seeks the society to disband it. The sound ‘hoom hoom’ denotes the beating of the heart to that effect.

Bangles may have come to symbolize many stages of women's life, but men have not remained untouched by it either. Legendary poet Gopal Das Neeraj was inspired to equate churri with dil in his memorable song चूड़ी नहीं ये मेरा दिल है देखो देखो टूटे ना (Don't let it break, bangle is like my heart) for the film Gambler (1971). With a tinge of  philosophy, Neeraj found the shape of a bracelet akin to the cycle of life with no end or beginning. In fact, it is a rare tribute to the cultural artifact of all times. 

Predominantly made of glass, its inherent value lies in bangles being a breakable piece of feminine adornment that has evoked unbreakable feelings for poets and lyricists to weave magic of beauty, romance and enduring luck around it.  

(Press the highlighted text to view the song under reference)