Updated: Sep 25, 2020
Story of Shorya Mittal
Recently, there was the festival of Raksha bandhan a few days ago and I spent it in my room like any other day, with no particular enthusiasm for the festival. Without causing any disrespect to the people who like it or celebrate it enthusiastically, I mostly don’t like it. I feel that today the celebration of the festival has become a challenge and keeping up with the traditions is almost a task, especially in nuclear families.
A lot of us today do not have real brothers and sisters and we are made to follow all kinds of weird traditions because of that. For instance, a friend of mine who doesn’t have any sister told me that a rakhi is tied to him on the behalf of the house. Whereas, I on the other hand, do not have a brother and every raksha bandhan, every year my mum suggests me vague ideas of celebrating the festival. For instance, she suggested that I tie rakhi to my father or to god in the temple.
A lot of cultures might practice this custom, but the difference in my situation is that I am asked to practice this because I don’t have a brother, as if not having a brother is a sin, as if not having a brother is a loss to me.
As a child, everytime when my mother used to introduce her kids (I and my sister) to anyone, they would always wait for her to add a third name in the list, preferably of a son and sometimes when that would not happen most of them would end up specially asking “Beta nahi hai?”(Don’t you have a son), as if not having a son is a blasphemy. Some of them would further go on and suggest her to try once more. Our relatives would often take my parents to fake godmen who would give them ashirwads and prasads for a son.
While my parents were very adamant on not having a third child, but even they didn’t have any idea about how these small incidents affected their impressionable daughter.