My sister had a revelation the other day while we were negotiating the citys new canker,rush hour traffic. I havent seen gajras being sold at traffic signals anywhere outside Pune, she observed with the secret longing of a Bangalorean who wont admit it. Not quite true, as the little white strings of flowers are equally ubiquitous in Mumbai and perhaps other parts of the state as well. But then I called up memories from the non-Maharashtrian cities and towns I have visited and drew a blank. No gajras dancing outside your car window in Delhi, or Kolkata, or Ahmedabad. Or for that matter even Chennai,where women wear flowers the way peacocks wear feathers. As a child I remember instances of sleeping next to my mother with gajras scenting the gap between our pillows. The first time I gave the mini-garland any thought was back in middle school, when I had an unsettling fashion sense and was manoeuvring like a snake to tie one around my own wrist. My mom walked in on me and made me yelp as she rapped my arm and informed me that I was aping courtesans. No wonder the floral accessory is not seen anywhere in the north. Whats strange is that the significance of the gajra is completely reversed down south. Not only does the mallige routinely ornament the braids of women of all classes and castes,but is largely to be found on sale outside temples or in proper marketplaces. Such respect for an object that is so looked down upon in another part of the country! In south India,a girl blends into the landscape by wearing a gajra,in north India she becomes the centre of (unflattering) attention. A more colourful piece of trivia I have heard is that men carry gajras with them to pleasure houses as gifts.Your task for this week is to find a traditional Tamilian girl and capturethe look of horror on her face as you tell her this. Here in Pune we have as usual found the middle path,relegating gajras to an uncontroversial and unimportant corner. A friend of mine introduced me to the very Puneri phrase TGP (tel-gajra party), a wickedly funny reference to girls who don the blooms. (The same friend also taught me NSG i.e. non-sweat glands,a dig at girls who look fresh throughout the day) Its easy not to see the gajras if you dont want to. Theyre quite unobtrusive despite being waved in your face as you gaze at the seconds ticking down. Its only when you purposefully go seeking the strong,sweet smell of jasmine that you really notice the bunch of white flowers and the hopeful face above it,willing to haggle for one haath (string) or two. Its one of those small,uncelebrated things that make a place unique,and the variety of meanings attached to that thing that makes it unique as well. If we look around Im sure well find many,an everyday sight thats more than what it seems to be to you and me. The author is a chess grandmaster and former national champion
