© 2021 Chandni Girija. This is an open access article distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution License, which permits unrestricted use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium, provided the original author(s) and source are credited. Forum CASTE: A Global Journal on Social Exclusion Vol. 2 No. 2 pp. 375–378 October - November 2021 ISSN 2639-4928 brandeis.edu/j-caste https://doi.org/10.26812/caste.v2i2.313 Ari Varutada 1PhD Scholar at the Centre for Study of Social Exclusion and Inclusive Policies (CSSEIP), Tata Institute of Social Sciences, Mumbai E-mail: chandni.chndn@gmail.com Ari Varutadu Where did my idea originate? I mentally knock my forehead Hm, Out wafts a faint memory A childhood one Me in taravadu There's kattanchaaya in a steel glass And there's it in a flat-edged steel bowl: ari varutada! We faced a rare situation No snacks to nibble with tea Not that it hadn't happened before Having set personal records In finishing great amounts of snacks A 'justified' indulgence for my scholarly full-nighters Often selfishly finishing whole packets Not keeping a single bite for Amma No, today with the fridge looking solemnly half-empty And the dining table spick-and-span Today held no possibility Of heading to the local store To stave off the insistent hankering No, today held no such possibility Today and tomorrow And the coming few weeks That is when I suggested to Amma, “Let us fry raw rice” She was pleasantly surprised Taken aback simultaneously— By the grihanathan's resourcefulness And in the falling to humility in the resourcefulness Maaman had called today And asked to speak to me— Another rare occurrence His tone was unhindered today Unhindered by time and concerns of time— A rare occurrence third I told we had had ari varutada He laughed out loudly. It's like a cracker bursting Ari Varutadu Where did my idea originate? I mentally knock my forehead Hm, Out wafts a faint memory A childhood one Me in taravadu There's kattanchaaya in a steel glass And there's it in a flat-edged steel bowl: ari varutada! We faced a rare situation No snacks to nibble with tea Not that it hadn't happened before Having set personal records In finishing great amounts of snacks A 'justified' indulgence for my scholarly full-nighters Often selfishly finishing whole packets Not keeping a single bite for Amma No, today with the fridge looking solemnly half-empty And the dining table spick-and-span Today held no possibility Of heading to the local store To stave off the insistent hankering No, today held no such possibility Today and tomorrow And the coming few weeks That is when I suggested to Amma, “Let us fry raw rice” She was pleasantly surprised Taken aback simultaneously— By the grihanathan's resourcefulness And in the falling to humility in the resourcefulness Maaman had called today And asked to speak to me— Another rare occurrence His tone was unhindered today Unhindered by time and concerns of time— A rare occurrence third I told we had had ari varutada He laughed out loudly. It's like a cracker bursting Ari Varutadu Where did my idea originate? I mentally knock my forehead Hm, Out wafts a faint memory A childhood one Me in taravadu There's kattanchaaya in a steel glass And there's it in a flat-edged steel bowl: ari varutada! We faced a rare situation No snacks to nibble with tea Not that it hadn't happened before Having set personal records In finishing great amounts of snacks A 'justified' indulgence for my scholarly full-nighters Often selfishly finishing whole packets Not keeping a single bite for Amma No, today with the fridge looking solemnly half-empty And the dining table spick-and-span Today held no possibility Of heading to the local store To stave off the insistent hankering No, today held no such possibility Today and tomorrow And the coming few weeks That is when I suggested to Amma, “Let us fry raw rice” She was pleasantly surprised Taken aback simultaneously— By the grihanathan's resourcefulness And in the falling to humility in the resourcefulness Maaman had called today And asked to speak to me— Another rare occurrence His tone was unhindered today Unhindered by time and concerns of time— A rare occurrence third I told we had had ari varutada He laughed out loudly. It's like a cracker bursting Chandni Girija1 376 CASTE: A Global Journal on Social Exclusion Vol. 2, No. 2 A single cracker bursting Bursting suddenly— This particular laugh of his Carrying through A thorough enjoyment of the subject of humour I remembered a photo from his wedding album Him in his white shirt His head thrown back in this same laughter. On the phone, I could imagine the glow on Maaman's face Today's news froze me Numbing me for moments Not the rising Corona deaths But two reports, two images: Migrant labourers hosed with disinfectant And six Musahar children eating grass The children's image hit me harder But I did wonder— How did the photograph occur? At the very exact moment? Reports challenged the veracity of this one The grass in actuality argued to be akhri daal Another sensationalising report? At the unabashed cost of a community's dignity No other children but Musahar And nothing else but grass!! But why did that image hit me harder? Yes, another memory wafted out Memory of a memory narrated Acchan in his childhood A hungry day No one at home And nothing at home So forsaken by hunger That he marched to the pinakku sack And had a fistful I do not doubt the veracity of this event For in this generational memory I hold I can feel Acchan's shame And see the jest in others' eyes As they came to know what the boy had done The jest in Amma's eyes as she narrated the memory to me Ari Varutada 377 The jest in Maaman's voice as he heard of today's ari varutadu This jest, I know its exact point of pleasure It is of crossing the line It is of making it across It is of forgetting the journey made It is of the safe vantage point That allows a view below It is of my ability To march down the local store Whenever I hanker for a packet of Kurkure It is of the ability of the reporter To make a 'report' on the Musahar children It is of the ghastly shock, The readers of this report feel The ability of these readers to feel the ghastly shock Their affordability of guilt My affordability of guilt But in this memory I feel no linearity of shame Continuing in me The 30-year old me, however, Feels a strange hankering loss I wish I could go back to that moment The moment little Acchan put the fistful in his mouth And the shame crept upon his face I wish I could run to him A little me In my white petticoat And white-ribboned pig-tails I wish I could run to him And put my little hand on his cheek And say, "It's nothing to be ashamed of.” And then sit with him Our legs bobbing down the porch A flat-edged steel bowl between us Happily sharing the ari varutadu. -X-X-X- Ari Varutada: Fried raw rice, used to be consumed as a snack Taravadu: Ancestral house Kattanchaaya: Black tea Amma: Mother The jest in Maaman's voice as he heard of today's ari varutadu This jest, I know its exact point of pleasure It is of crossing the line It is of making it across It is of forgetting the journey made It is of the safe vantage point That allows a view below It is of my ability To march down the local store Whenever I hanker for a packet of Kurkure It is of the ability of the reporter To make a 'report' on the Musahar children It is of the ghastly shock, The readers of this report feel The ability of these readers to feel the ghastly shock Their affordability of guilt My affordability of guilt But in this memory I feel no linearity of shame Continuing in me The 30-year old me, however, Feels a strange hankering loss I wish I could go back to that moment The moment little Acchan put the fistful in his mouth And the shame crept upon his face I wish I could run to him A little me In my white petticoat And white-ribboned pig-tails I wish I could run to him And put my little hand on his cheek And say, "It's nothing to be ashamed of.” And then sit with him Our legs bobbing down the porch A flat-edged steel bowl between us Happily sharing the ari varutadu. -X-X-X- Ari Varutada: Fried raw rice, used to be consumed as a snack Taravadu: Ancestral house Kattanchaaya: Black tea Amma: Mother 378 CASTE: A Global Journal on Social Exclusion Vol. 2, No. 2 Grihanathan: Head of household Maaman: Maternal uncle Musahar: A Dalit community belonging to the eastern Indian Gangetic plain Akhri dal: A type of lentil that can be eaten raw Acchan: Father Pinakku: Cow fodder Kurkure: Cornpuffs mass-produced by PepsiCo Petticoat: Here, a white pinafore-like garment worn by girls, mostly underneath frocks