Half-saree ceremony

We’re back home, in Sakleshpur, and finally, after more than six months of monsoon, the rain seems to have stopped for now. After making us wait for ages, the sun is finally smiling in all its brilliance. The monsoon arrived one month earlier than expected and stayed a month longer. Many coffee beans were knocked off their branches by sharp rain drops. Moisture laden air meant that fungus started infesting the plants. Months of sogginess in the soil made the roots of the pepper rot. The local farmers were seriously worried, and the return of the sun has brought them and us huge relief.

One of my students reached puberty this month. How do I know? Because her family hosted a celebration, the Half-Saree Ceremony to mark the occasion. The name comes from the brightly coloured silk dress that is worn by the young girl at the centre of it all. A long skirt with a matching blouse and an unstitched piece of silk draped elegantly around her. She wears beautiful jewellery, adorns her hair with flowers and sits on a throne like a precocious princess. The maroon lipstick looks terribly out of place on her cherubic face.

In South India this ceremony symbolizes the communal acceptance of a girl’s transformation into a young woman. It is sacred and hence accompanied by elaborate rituals and fragrant prayers using sandalwood, roses, jasmine and a hundred other things. It is an occasion to formally introduce the young lady to her extended family and community, as well as to reinforce her traditional roles. Generations up and down gather, fostering a sense of identity and belonging, celebrating both, her individual milestone and the timeless traditions that define her heritage. 

I wonder what it’s like for her to have the entire village know this very personal thing about her. Maybe it’s so normal here that there’s nothing strange about it. A healthy normalisation of a potential taboo. I wonder if this is a hidden invitation for marriage proposals not so far in the future. I wonder if she feels the pressure of expectations of her family and community change overnight. I wonder how she sees herself now. She is only 12.