The "marudhaani" tales!

“Mehndi” has infiltrated as an “unofficial” wedding ceremony across the country, even in urban Tamil Nadu, where it was previously, totally unknown. Perhaps, as a wedding ritual, mehndi was unknown, but mehndi has always been a popular group-event for women in the south.

Back then, vacation-time at Kumbakonam meant a particular day was set aside for painting the hands and feet with mehndi. Applying mehndi, called “marudhaani” in Tamil, was an extended-family event. Grandmother, grand-aunts, mother, aunts, cousins, sister- everyone looked forward to the late evening ritual with overflowing enthusiasm. They just couldn’t wait for dinner to get over, post which, the marudhaani-painting would begin. Boys in the family felt completely abandoned! “You can also apply marudhaani- a nice, round dot on the nose-tip!” sister pulled the leg. “I am not a girl…silly!” you snapped back, even as you imagined the after-effects on the nose-tip.

These days, intricate patterns are drawn on the palm with mehndi. Back then, the design was simple. With marudhaani paste, in a dark-umber color, a big circle was applied on the palm. It looked like the sun covered during a solar eclipse. Like little planets in the same orbit, dots were drawn, around the sun. That completed the palm painting. Both the palms were colored this way.

Next, the fingertips- all 10 of them, were capped with a blob of marudhaani, like a roll of bandage. Now, the feet had to be taken care. Marudhaani was applied in the shape of a footwear- as though a thin strap went around- starting from the little-toe, across the heel, to the toe-thumb. Soon, the toes were painted. Finally, just like a slipper, a buckle was painted across the foot, to hold the marudhaani-sandals in place.

Once the painting was complete, the person had to stay-put, for the entire night. In the morning, the marudhaani was washed off, and the hands and feet shone; stained by the marudhaani dye.

The theory was simple. Execution was complicated. Restroom visits were off for the rest of the night. Once the marudhaani was applied, the hands and feet were glued, and the person was like a tied hostage. She could do nothing on her own. Invariably, the demands also increased multi-fold. You had to run errands repeatedly and do enormous “shishrusha”, either to fetch water or to ward off pesty houseflies that did their best to irritate the marudhaani applicant. Sister simply lay like a lizard with palms outstretched. She needed help to even scratch her back. “This is too much! Why do you get itchy all the time? I cannot be your backscratcher now. I have better things in life to do!” you protested.

When the whole place is agog with such excitement, it was tempting not to try out marudhaani. “Why don’t you apply on one palm alone, just one big circle. You can wash it off in half hour!” Such offers were enticing. There were many angles to consider. What if the marudhaani does not wear off before school started a few weeks after this vacation? The last thing you wanted, was to be paraded through the class, with your palm scrutinized by a jeering mob of boys!

But you didn’t want to miss this opportunity. The mind vacillated- May be, apply it, wait for exactly 20 minutes, and wash it off? That wouldn’t do too much damage. In addition, your hand was also tied, and you needn’t be someone else’s back-scratcher anymore!

Finally, you succumbed to the temptation and got the palm painted. “Can I wash it off now? Now? Now?” you asked every 2 minutes. “Wait! What is the tearing hurry?” sister responded. Those 20 minutes were the longest 20 minutes.

Sister’s face was beaming as she observed my tiny palm, stained a light orange! “This is so beautiful! You should have kept it for the whole night. Why did you wash it off so soon?” You felt elated and sheepish at the same time- not knowing how to respond to the compliment!

Marudhaani had other issues. The whole house was filled with an aroma- you couldn’t call it exactly fragrant; it was a strange smell. Also, as the hours went by, marudhaani cracked on the fingers and feet, and scattered in tiny bits, littering the whole room. A special straw mat was provided for the marudhaani folk to sleep. They lay like multiple lizards, with paws aloft, stacked side-by-side. But the straw mat increased the itching-quotient and the need for volunteers as backscratchers and nose-scratchers.

In the morning, sister could not wait to wash off her marudhaani. You pretended to stay aloof and uninterested, but couldn’t help noticing how her palm was colored a deep red, like the rising sun. “You don’t need to buy high-heel slippers anymore! Marudhaani slippers are enough!” you joked.

The rest of the morning was entirely devoted to comparing one palm versus another.  Everyone in the extended family, vied with each other, for the ultimate crown- “whose palm was colored the brightest!”