Bhondla

 The Garba pandals are comparatively a novelty.  Setting up such pandals on  such a huge scale, and managing them as an 'event', with costly entry tickets, the so-called celebrities attending such functions, dancing to extremely vulgar songs surely did not exist before the 1990's.

Apparently, these days, the sale of contraceptives in shops nearby such pandals goes up! Parents hire detectives to keep track of their 'adventurous' brood!! Is it any wonder then that there are dance classes that have special sessions teaching the 'moves'!?! Poor Devi! What all she has to see, and without any say! 

Earlier, the Garba dance was not such a consumer commodity. Genuinely, it was a way of festive praying to the goddess through a community coming together for the occasion. 

If the Gujrati's had the devotional 'garba', the Maharashtrians would enjoy 'bhondla'.  Now a days, it might be an 'NEP project' in schools, in junior colleges under the rubric of "cultural or heritage activities." No longer, however, does it enjoy the intimacy of a houshold celebration. 

Earlier, after schools got over at about 5 p.m., girls in the locality, in the lane(s) nearby would get together around 6 p.m. All of them would be wearing festive new clothes, oftener a 'parkar- polke', a petticoat and blouse made of a colourful cloth called "khanache kapad", with brilliant colours and lovely decorative borders. Mostly, these unique dresses would be  stitched by their mothers.

They would form a circle holding hands. In the middle would be the picture of the Devi, depicted in the elephant form. Most often a beautiful rangoli it used to be. The girls would go round and round in the circle, singing the special 'bhondla' songs.

 Once upon a time, may be, till the mid-twentieth century when girls were married off early and had no social space to share, such songs complaining about their status quo must have emerged as folk songs. Now they may sound bizarre.

New songs suited to the realities of  the third decade of the twenty-first century must be re-written to fit the current contexts. Who plays the 'bhondla' though? Any end of a folk form of togetherness has a silent sob accompanying it!

Pratima@The fun, and final, moment of this celebration  used to be the special eat, the "khirapat", which the mother of the girl hosting the "bhondla" that particular evening would make. 

All the girls would ask all types of questions (Sour? Sweet? Spicy? Like last year? Liquid? Made of semolina?) till the special dish could be rightly guessed. The girlie fun event would end with all the participants together enjoying the dish, and proceeding to the next 'bhondla'! 

At times, the guesswork could be quite aggressive, if the dish was absolutely unique! Aai was excellent at making such special dishes. The guessing would slowly get high-pitched till they could guess it rightly which would end in huge clapping, a victory sign, so to say!