ডাকবাংলা

Part 2

Chilla: Part 3

After hectic riyaaz, exercise, rehearsals and meticulous planning, the big day dawned on the Malviyas. Nirmala and Bina reached Siri Fort auditorium, entering from the rear gate which took them straight to the green room reserved for Nirmala. The evening before, her armchair and footstool had been deposited by one of N.K’s many minions in the green room, so she could rest in a comfortable chair instead of the many chairs with suspiciously grimy upholstery that could be found in the green rooms. A couple of sweepers had been dispatched to clean the bathrooms thoroughly and put in room fresheners and soap dispensers. The mirrors in the green room had been scrubbed clean with a newspaper and were sparkling in welcome. A trolley at one end was laid out bearing electric kettles for making tea and coffee, tea-bags, condiments, cutlery and several jars of dry fruit. As Nirmala settled in, a host of relatives and friends, mostly women, a few with children straggling behind them, crowded into the room to express solidarity and wish her for the evening. 

One of the younger women greeted her saying — “Bhabhi, we won’t disturb you for long. Just wanted to wish you and ask if I can send some home- cooked food for you and your group? No? Some fresh juice and light snacks? Not even that? What ! You’re going to fast till you finish your chilla? Baap re. You’re too much Bhabhi. Listen, all of you, did you know that Nirmala Bhabhi is going to fast unto.. (realising she was going to say fast unto death, she quickly said) I mean, fast till her chilla.” One of the older Chachis guffawed, winked wickedly and muttered something under her breath.  The sniggering that followed did not escape Nirmala or Bina’s attention, and soon the ladies with straggler offsprings were being herded out of the room.

As the door shut firmly on the crowds, Nirmala lay back in her armchair with her feet propped up on the footstool in front of her for a power nap. Soon, it was time to get ready. A make-up artiste, hair stylist and dress assistant had all been booked for the show. Bina unpacked four sets of costumes from the huge suitcase that had arrived with them. The costume and makeup team looked on in shock and awe as the costumes were revealed to them. Instead of the traditional peshwaj or conventional lehnga-choli combination worn by Kathak artistes, Nirmala had decided to experiment and create a costume for herself based on research she had conducted. Four lurid shimmering two-piece costumes in red, blue, green and lime-yellow emerged from the suitcase modelled on the costume worn by a leading actor in a dance sequence from the film Jal Bin Machhli Nritya Bin Bijli. At first dazzling sight, it seemed to be an adaptation of a Bharatanatyam costume and mermaid’s costume rolled into one. Gauzy, shiny transparent dupattas had been matched for each of the costumes. Bina now pulled out her file and showed the hairdresser a still from the film explaining that Nirmala needed an elaborate bouffant hairdo over which the dupatta could be draped. Work began in earnest and in a few hours Nirmala was transformed from being the smiling, sindoor sporting North Indian housewife into a rather garish creature with hellcat eye makeup, a complexion that was closer to mauve than pink, garish red lipstick, nail polish, glitter eye shadow, and an enormous bun on her head studded with sundry embellishments, a huge puff on her head over which was perched a conical silver ornament, and on top of which was draped a gauzy dupatta that covered half her face. Her wrists were loaded with glass bangles in four colours to match the four  costumes, with wider shimmering bracelets at each end. A large waist ornament with several loops and lacy patterns was secured over her hips and waist tightly.  On her ankles, under the ghungroos, were similar lace-patterned broad anklets and her feet and hands had elaborate patterns painted on them with organic red dye called alta. As she walked, her waist ornament, anklets, ghungroos and bangles and bracelets clinked and clanged like a kitchen band. 

The chilla was to begin at 7 pm, but before that a formal beginning had been planned. Nirmala had decided that in keeping with the spirit of her chilla, she would not invite VIPs and celebrities as she had done in the past. This time, Didi, Revati Guha would light a lamp and bless her, maybe say a few words of benediction, and then with the blessings of her guru, the chilla would start to the chanting of Sanskrit shlokas to Ganapati, Guru, Krishna and Saraswati, and other deities in the Hindu pantheon. Poor Revati, always reluctant to speak in public and acutely aware of the laughs that Nirmala’s performances drew, desperately thought of ways and means to escape both from the responsibility of inaugurating the event, and also from the general ribbing she would have to suffer for being Nirmala’s guru. Finally, a few hours before the formal start, she sent a disciple with a letter to inform N.K. and Nirmala that she was suffering from high fever and would be unable to be present but was sending her good wishes in a letter that she had requested her student to read out. Nirmala had planned to be on stage to receive Revati’s blessings publicly, but with this twist in the turn of events she decided that she would make a grand entrance once the shlokas and invocation started. She would light the lamp herself as she danced as a symbol of the tradition she was keeping alive.

Illustration by Suvamoy Mitra

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