Oh, Karva Chauth!

It happens only in India!

Alok and Rekha, my brother and sister-in-law, had an appointment at the VFS Centre at Shivaji Stadium Metro Station, New Delhi, for their biometrics for their Canada visa in the morning after Karva Chauth. They travelled from Ujjain to Delhi — an overnight train journey — to be at the venue at the assigned time.

A day before, Rekha had kept the Karva Chauth fast. She had not touched food or water since sunset on the previous evening. She had resorted to the solah shringar (सोलह श्रृंगार) — the 16 bridal adornments or enhancements — which include the bindi, kaajal, sindoor, mehndi, nose ring and earrings etc. When it was time to break her fast after seeing the moon, she was in the train, on her way to Delhi. But since it was cloudy, the moon was not visible till much after the moonrise time forecast by the India Meteorological Department. Of late, some astrologers and dharm-gurus have also joined in, announcing sunrise and moonrise timings that sometimes differ, adding to the confusion. Call it ‘flexibility’, if you will! And, since the scriptures are silent on this issue, tech-savvy women have found innovative ways of spotting the moon. One of the smartest moves has been to instal the SkyView Lite app and scan the horizon to ascertain the real-time position of the celestial bodies even through clouds.

Their train reached Delhi in the wee hours. The two snatched some sleep and got ready for the appointment. I drove them to the VFS Centre on Baba Khadak Singh Marg. For a reason, we were soon to discover, the queue at the Canada desk was unusually short that day — fewer than half a dozen aspirants were lined up. We thought it was because of the efficiency of the staff in processing applications. Not really!

Sharing the dream of being with their daughter, Anu, in Toronto, Alok and Rekha moved up the line until it was their turn. The VFS associate ushered them in with a smile and then dropped a bombshell, “I am sorry Ma’am, it’ll not be possible to process your biometrics today. The mehndi on your palms will give scanning errors.”

“We have come all the way from Ujjain; it has been a tiring 12-hour train journey. Is there any way, you could help us out,” urged the couple.

“I am so sorry. The system will just not accept the scans. Before you there was a couple from Jammu. They too couldn’t be helped.” He politely expressed his inability to help.

A minute later, we three were seated around a small table in the waiting area discussing our next course of action — we had accepted the wisdom of the oft-repeated Sanskrit quote: “ईश्वर: यत् करोति, शोभनम् करोति” literally meaning, “Whatever God does, He does for the best.”

In the heart of my heart, I wondered what good could there be in that rejection.

Just then, I saw a couple seated on the next table. I was overcome by an immediate sense of pity when I saw the lady’s palm adorned with mehndi. Even as we were discussing our next plan, I couldn’t resist asking her, “Are you here for biometrics?”

“Yes!” It was a monosyllabic answer that conveyed a lot more than that three-letter word. Perhaps she meant to say, “So, how does it concern you, stranger?”

“Visa for Canada?” I still dared to ask her.

“Yes? What’s the matter?”

By now, her husband was ready to intervene, but I continued with my unsolicited input.

“Then, I am afraid,” I said pointing at the lady’s palms and fingers, “you might be heading for disappointment. The Canadian desk has cancelled my sister-in-law’s appointment because of the mehndi on her palms.” I waited for them to absorb the shock, then added, “You may still try.”

There was some time to go for the couple to present themselves. The five of us chatted as they waited. They were sad that Alok and Rekha had to travel about 700 km for nothing. Rekha apprised all of us that the VFS instructions made a passing mention of injuries or medical conditions which might come in the way of biometrics data collection. The guidelines didn’t talk specifically of mehndi.

We wished them good luck; and they did go with a prayer on their lips but returned in a jiffy. The Karva Chauth mehndi had taken yet another toll.

We sat together for some more time. We carried no ill-will against the people who were performing their duties as per their official guidelines. There was just one common thought: Many Indian women were going through this ordeal every year around Karva Chauth. Likewise, newly married Indian women must be facing the same obstacle. If only, the instructions could address this issue more emphatically.

It is human nature to find one’s own grief diminish when one sees others undergoing the same. Sharing a common ordeal had brought us, strangers, quite close. Close enough so that our parting became memorable.

The couple introduced themselves as Kapurs. “You’ll not forget my name… I am Raj Kapur,” said the gentleman as he shook my hand.

At the end of the interaction which had lasted barely 10 minutes in aggregate, the lady overwhelmed us by making an unexpected and extraordinarily generous offer from a stranger. “Please feel free to come to our place and stay until your next appointment,” she said. She didn’t know that Alok and Rekha were staying with us.

“So kind of you,” said Rekha. Then, pointing at me, she added, “But we are putting up with him. And in any case, we are boarding the 2 o’clock train for Bhopal.”

“Nearly three hours to go, you may join us for lunch,” she looked at her watch and made a difficult-to-decline suggestion.

“Some other time,” I said politely, as I handed my visiting card to Mr Raj Kapur.

It was a memorable adieu.

One thought has been swirling in my mind ever since: “Such things happen only in India.”

PS: While most people associate Karva Chauth with a woman fasting for the well-being of her husband, I have come across a gentleman who also follows this ritual. When asked why, he says jocularly, “I do it just to stop my wife from reminding me repeatedly of her sacrifices for my sake.”

PPS: Since our recent failed attempt at submitting biometrics and the circumstances that led to it, I have asked several women, what they would do if faced with a similar situation? Would they avoid applying mehndi around KarvaChauth so that they could complete their biometric enrolment without difficulty? Armed with the knowledge of our experience, they said they would plan their engagement with VFS in a way that it did not clash with Karva Chauth. This too, I thought, happens only in India!