Story from Magazine 29
Hello Shanthi, what an apt title for your heartwarming story – Oru Selaiyin Payanam.
Payanam….journey….yes. Mallika and you truly took me on this emotional roller- coaster journey when I read the story. It is a journey that, in many ways, I feel will continue for as long as I live.
And it is this feeling that compelled me to write to you. I wanted to let you know that your story had a profound impact on me, Shanthi. I read it several times and with each reading, I discovered something new or found myself reliving a memory.
Like Mallika, saris hold a deeply sentimental place in my life. As I read the story, Mallika made me pause and reflect on these questions – Who am I? Where did I come from? What defines my culture? How traditional or contemporary are my choices? Shanthi, through your words, I connected my saris to the people, to moments of celebration and to cherished and painful memories in my life.
I shared your story with a few friends who, like Mallika and me, are also on their own sari journeys. Shanthi, they responded with the same mix of emotions – nostalgia and reflection. Mallika’s journey sparked new conversations amongst us and paved the way for deeper reflection and the emotional role that saris play in our life.
Do you see where I am getting at Shanthi? Mallika, you, me, my friends – we are all women in our fifties, navigating experiences that are reshaping our lives now. We are learning and trying our best to embrace this phase as the “new me” and adapting to the “new normal” with greater awareness and acceptance.
Shanthi, as the story unfolded, one question kept returning to me – how can six yards of a fabric hold so many emotions? I found myself deeply confused, Shanthi. Was it Mallika’s emotions triggering something within me, or was it the beautiful description of saris that connected me to both the past and present? I cannot quite decide till today.
When Mallika chose to “let go” of her saris, I felt her pain and helplessness. When she spoke about her memories associated with some saris, I shared her happiness and satisfaction. And when Mallika made the difficulty yet thoughtful decision to sell some of her saris, I truly understood her strength and resolve.
And here are some thoughts that continue to stay with me, Shanthi.
-I wished that a male figure came into the store at some point.
-Saris hold power. The Gulabi Gang is a great example – a group of woman in India, wearing bright pink sarees, actively fighting domestic abuse and advocating for themselves, proving that the sari is a symbol of strength and collective power.
-Saris can be a burden. When I see women engaged in physical labour – construction workers, farmers or shop assistants in India, the sari seems uncomfortable and woman wear a shirt, just to feel secure and confident.
- A sari speaks emotions and is an extension of feelings – when a woman is angry, the pallu and pleats are lifted and gets tucked in on a side, when she is sad, it is used to wipe away her tears; when she is happy, she wears her favourite-coloured saree.
-Should there be rules to clothe oneself? Woman can wear shirts and pants, yet men wearing saris freely is still uncommon.
Thank you so much, Shanthi, for this emotional and truly timeless sari story. As long as saris exist, new stories will continue to emerge and these stories will live on because every sari is a story.
Oru Selaiyin Payanam…. thodargirathu…. thodarum.
With love,
Paru.
