Son-in-law's Day

Today is Jamai Shoshti, the Bengali son-in-law's day. It is one of those celebrations in the Hindu calendar that may have had their origin in religion, but since then has evolved into a family celebration in which several genrations come together to observe homespun rituals and feast on seasonal produce. While Jamai Shoshti is connected to the Hindu goddess, Shoshti, it is also a celebration of the season, end of May being the height of summer in India. The food served on this day showcases the best of summer produce and the mangoes that are in high season at this time are at the center of the rituals that mark the day. As far as the reference to the son-in-law goes, I think it was a clever ploy to create an opportunity for married women to visit their parents. Back in the day, it was not socially acceptable for married women to visit their parents whenever they wanted. However, if her husband was invited to her parents' home, she could definitely tag along, even stay on a few extra days. Inventing a special day dedicated to the son-in-laws guaranteed a summer visit to the parents' for the married women and a trip to grandpa's house for the children.

In my role as a mother to two girls, Jamai Shoshti, is a balancing act between preserving family traditions and debunking outdated social norms and gender roles that surround the celebration. In the more straightforward days of my childhood, our grandparents would host their children and their respective families on this day. My grandfather would take great care in getting the best produce and fish from the market and my grandmother would oversee the cooking of a multi-course meal. The highlight of the day was the narration of the story of Ma Shoshti, the presiding deity of motherhood and protector of children. Didu (grandmother) would gather all the children of the family before lunchtime and we would sit cross-legged on the floor around the symbolic fan and mango with a turmeric-tinged thread wound around it as she recounted the story. We heard the story every year, but it never got old. When my grandma's memory started dimming with age, she would sometimes forget a detail or mix up the sequence of events. Since we knew the story by heart, one of the kids would gently correct her before she went on. At the end of the story, she would tie the turmeric-stained thread on our wrists as a good luck charm.

The story is about a poor woman who had one failing -- she helped herself to the food she cooked for the family before everyone else had eaten. Like a good hostess, she was supposed to make sure there was enough food for everyone in the extended family before she ate herself. However, this lady (who remained nameless in the numerous retellings) seemed to have a hard time waiting for such a long time to sample the goodies. I do not blame her. Who wants to wait around to eat the meal they spent the whole day preparing? Anyway, when the rest of the family asked about the missing portions of food, the woman would blame the black cat that hung around the kitchen, saying that the cat had snuck off with the food when she was not looking. Little did she know that this was not just any black cat. It was a divine feline, the pet of Ma Shoshti.

Anyone who has spent any time learning about Hindu mythology knows that Hindu gods and goddesses are prone to human emotions and failings. Ma Shoshti was so angered by the unjust treatment of her favorite kitty that she made sure that the woman in our story was not able to bear children. Any children she would conceive would die at childbirth. Blaming the woman for her inability to have children, her husband's family banished her to the woods. After suffering many trials and tribulations, the woman managed to appease Ma Shoshti and swore to never falsely blame the black cat again. With Ma Shoshti's blessings, she gave birth to a healthy child and from that day onwards worshipped the goddess for the well-being of her child.

Moral of the story: do not make false allegations against the black cat, who, in Hindu mythology is not a symbol of dark spirits, rather the beloved pet of a very powerful goddess.

Relating this story to my daughters is always problematic. I get a lot of eye rolls and "but that is not fair"-s. Fortunately, they have heard the story enough times and are now old enough to understand the complex social and cultural forces that shaped this oral tradition. They also understand that we retell the story to continue family traditions, not to perpetuate stereotypes and gender inequities. Often, the story-telling becomes a treatise on how Indian society has evolved over the years and how some gender roles have changed while others continue to persist. Since today's story-telling occurred with a board of education meeting happening in the background, the elaborations had to be kept to a minimum ;-) When my older daughter started bristling at the part of the story when the family disowns the woman, the younger one turned to her calmly and said, "Remember, this is just a story."

The clear winner of the day is the son-in-law, who is treated to a lavish feast, even though he does not play a particularly important role in the story. I guess the philosophy of our grandmothers and great grandmothers was: keep the men fed and out of our business. Our Jamai Shoshti feast today was mainly for the kids. The man of the house was also indulged and he happily agreed to a feminist retelling of the Tale of Ma Shoshti.