I will never be a 29-year-old woman in Jaipur experiencing Teej festival ever again. I had this on my mind for the past few days, until what I thought I was going to experience fell flat on my face.
What is Teej?
Teej festival commemorates the holy matrimony of Shiva and Shakti. It is celebrated in the month of Shravan and reflects the lush bounty brought by the monsoon season. Much like Gangaur, women fast for their husbands and pray for their long and blissful marital life.
What is Teej to me?
The earliest idea I have of Teej is knowing that this is the time when ghevar is popularly sold across Jaipur. I mean, Teej and ghevar go hand-in-hand and the malai on top of the circular sugary treat makes it all the more tempting.
One more thing I knew about Teej is that the idol of Gauri would be carried from the City Palace through the Tripolia Gate and onto the roads of the Pink City.
Yes, I wanted to see Her face one more time. After Gangaur celebrations in Jaipur back in March 2023, I didn’t get a glimpse of Her. The beautiful idol seated within the City Palace premises is one of the most calm faces I have ever seen.
As someone who doesn’t always feel connected to idols, Her face made me realize the beauty of Shakti. And I wanted to see her one more time because I don’t know if I’d ever see her again.
The lesson I learnt from Teej in Jaipur
Teej brings in downpour, and it is a lot like a ritual. This is not because the festival happens during the monsoon and its association with the month of Shravan. It is simply synonymous to my house-help in Jaipur telling me, “didi aj toh Teej hai, aaj toh baarish honi hi hai.” As in to her (or any other believer), the day of Teej would bring in rain.
The area I live in Jaipur is slightly far from the Pink City area. I usually take 45 minutes to reach, but this time it was longer as I couldn’t get a ride. The processions from the Tripolia Gate usually start from 5:30 pm both during Teej and Gangaur festivals. While the rains could have been a reason to delay, it didn’t dampen the spirits of the people in the crowd. So, the procession was also on time.
Me and my crowd-phobia
So, I am scared of crowds and I have often refrained from situations that could physically suffocate me. But it was Her face that made me want to keep trying. I tried to push and secure a place but I realized I was late.
I have often never cursed myself of being late to a place, but seriously what was I thinking? If you want to secure a good place and catch a cultural festival that draws hundreds of people, you have to reach early.
I mean, I reached at Dasaswamedh Ghat at 4pm to experience the Aarti that began post 7pm. So, here I should have at least reached by 4:30 pm just like I did when I wanted to see the procession of Gangaur.
When I realized that all I am going to see is a big screen and smartphones video recording the event, I took a step back. I realized that I had to give up at this moment as the suffocation had gotten to me.
Maybe She didn’t want me to see her anymore. I don’t know what it was, but it felt like my life was crashing down at that moment. Yes! I might sound dramatic but honestly, I don’t know if I’d ever have this experience again.
The lesson I thought this taught me
By now I was convinced that being late is the worst thing you can do to yourself. I was sure that if I’d have to be late to something, I’d rather have not gone at all. I mean the transportation expenses are quite a lot and I was hungry so had to grab something to eat.
Samrat Kachori in Jaipur is a name I had heard of, and as soon I was walking away from the Tripolia Bazaar this is the place I found. As I was crossing the road to go into the shop, three elderly women asked me to help them. They weren’t begging for money, they asked me to buy them milk instead.
I stopped, I smiled, and I found a dairy next to them and bought them what they wanted. They blessed me and it felt better. Interestingly, it was also the day when I saw four cows on my way to Pink City. I fed them bread and three of them ate what I had to offer. The coincidence made me happy and I went into the food joint with contentment.
I tried Dabeli in Jaipur for the first time, but honestly it isn’t anything like what I have in Pune. The bread, however, was tasty and I bought vada pao to take back home.
The lesson it actually taught me
I got up on an e-rickshaw with two other women, and I had no idea where it was going. I knew it would lead me home but it actually took me to another place I hadn’t visited.
A saw a temple perched up on a hill. The auto driver told me that is belonged to Rajmata Gayatri Devi. I knew it was Eklingeshwar Mahadev Mandir and it used to open once a year on Shivratri pre-pandemic. It has ever since been closed and belongs to the royal family.
The sheer look of the hilltop temple was quite regal. But I’d love to catch a better glimpse under the clear sky. The e-rickshaw driver told me that I had reached Moti Dungri Ganesh Temple. And this is where I realized that maybe I wasn’t late after all. Maybe I was just being redirected to the place I had to be.
I visited the Ganesh mandir and getting a ride back home was quite difficult. But once I came back, I thought to myself that maybe no one is ever late. Maybe we’re always on time. This is where you exactly had to be, right at this moment at this time. Yes, maybe I will never experience Teej in Jaipur ever again. But I will also never be a 29-year-old visiting Moti Dungri Mandir on a Wednesday and on Hariyali Teej.
Are we ever late or is this the right time?
My inner calling supports the fact that we are always at the right time. This is the right time to write, to create, to live, to be grateful, and to realize that we can’t fight time, we can only accept it.
0 Comments