I was raised in my grandmother’s house, a 2-bedroom apartment on a hilly street in south Mumbai. In one of our rooms, we also had a sacred temple, which many people often came to visit. At the time, the temple was served by my now-late great-grandmother who had committed herself to prayer and devotion. Growing up with my grandparents around me I received heaps of love and joy. But something I remember quite vividly is just how many rules we had; house rules, temple rules, curfews, and a healthy sprinkling of patriarchal rules. Such as how the men were the head of the household, as was also somewhat common at the time.
I must have been around 11 years old when I got my period, almost 20 years ago, and much earlier than most of my friends at the time. I was quite alarmed at first. Thankfully, I knew what it was to get a period, but for rather odd reasons.
Every month, an adult female, sometimes my mother or my aunty, would change her routine for three days, and only on the third day, after a shower and a hairwash, was she allowed to reconvene in daily life. The temple and kitchen were forbidden, as was any furniture that was covered in cloth, so instead of the usual bedding, she would sleep on a cover-less mattresses instead. She would also use and wash her dishes separately, and pile her clothes in the bathroom to be washed separately. She was also not allowed to touch members of the family… When I asked my mother or grandmother ‘why’, they would say ‘this is just how it is’ and ‘do what is being asked to do’. So I followed as the elder women did and I learned to sit still, avoid the kitchen and wait impatiently for the 3rd day!
Though the hormones had started to rage and riot, and my teenage angst was soon earning me labels as disobedient, I frequently broke many of these rules and argued with my grandmother. ‘These rules don’t make any sense’ – I would say. Even though generally I knew people agreed with me, it was still not common to be disagreeable so I soon learned to follow orders.
Messages were also reinforced outside of my home. Periods were a taboo and unspoken topic in general society. People avoided saying ‘period’ overtly. Sanitary napkins would be sold in brown paper bags, shielded from society, and the conversation would silently pass from women to women, in hush voices, and through familiar gestures. There were also many rules – temples were a strict ban; with some even writing the words ‘no admittance to women on her time of the month’ at the front gate.
So, what I learned about periods as an 11 year old was that periods were dirty, and menstrual blood was dirty. I was unclean and God/religion does not allow me to enter the temple or touch my grandmother. At least, as an 11 year old, that is what I reasonably deducted from her world.
It was much later that I started to dig into the history of this tradition. My family is from the Hindu Vaishnavite sect (a subset of Hinduism). On a website dedicated to information about this sect, the question of why a woman cannot go to the Haveli (temple) on her period was raised. I will summarise my interpretation of the answer: Since the goddess Indra was guilty of killing a Brahmin (Brahma-hatya), all Woman (Stri) share her guilt. Indra’s guilt was placed in the Raj (menstrual discharge) of woman. This is the reason why Hindu woman observe 3-day seclusion during their period.
It is perhaps reasonable to deduct that maybe early-humans did not know where to place menstruation. It is also perhaps reasonable to deduct that early humans took certain occurrences to be acts of punishment from ‘angry Gods’. But, surely, we must question these reasonings and revise the interpretations? The above response implies that menstruation is a punishment and a manifestation of guilt. Not only is this harmful in itself, this messaging enforces a power structure through emotional manipulation.
A society that progresses through unquestioning devotion, passes with it only fragments of information. Interpretations become laws. Have we grossly misinterpreted? Were ancient civilisations suggesting women should rest on their periods – and this intention has stripped away into a repetitive, meaningless ritual that secludes women from society?
We now know things my grandmother’s generation did not. Menstruation is beautiful and serves a biological purpose. Menstruation blood is simply the shedding of the uterus in preparation for a new egg, and is no dirtier than other types of blood – like a cut on your hand. In many parts of India, the rules around menstruation are still practiced today. Many of us may still avoid temples out of respect for an ancient tradition, or to not upset our loved ones. The more we raise awareness about menstruation – the more we can influence these narratives that echo through society.