The Doll and the Rain

The summer was now at its peak. The lands were scorched and so were the residents of the village Nandpur. The trees had become bare, only the deep rooted cacti and small trees of kikkar produced scattered bits of green in the landscape. The farmers had given up hope, the hope of rains, a good crop and a good harvest in the end. The cattle in the village had given up hope too, the hope of rain, a good crop, a good harvest and green fodder in the end. The life in village had slowed down. Every thing happened at a deadening pace. The conversations took place in whispers. The street dogs lay all day under a tree and moved only their ears and whimpered only from under the tree. The days were dragging on.

The village was coming to a stop.

But a girl of 8, Jeeti, was getting restless under the neem tree, where her grandmother was sitting on a cot, in the courtyard of a farmer's home. “Bebe, do you know? Dad is bringing a doll for me from city today. The doll with a pink dress and golden hair. I am telling you Bebe, it will be the best doll in the whole world. And i am not going to let veera and bhaen even touch it” The grandmother, who had long passed this stage of getting excited about dolls, did not show much interest in the innocent talk of the 8 year old girl. The grandmother had also slowed down but not due to the heat. She was trying to preserve life in this way and praying to live for another summer. The 8 yr girl after failing to get any response from the old woman gave up and went inside and tried to start a conversation with her mom. “Maa, did you have a doll too?”. Her mom also shooed her away. Her older brother and sister who were twins and 4 years older came inside and started planning about something. Talking in hushed voices they were planning something very important. They had found out the way to end the summer. Last night after Jeeti had gone to sleep grandmother had told them about a ritual, a sacrifice, which could bring rain. They were not going to tell Jeeti about it.

In the evening Jeeti's father came back from city. He also had a box with him. Jeeti was looking at the bag expectantly but she did not dare ask her dad about its contents in front of her brother and sister. She waited till her father had dinner and only when he was about to sleep she asked him about her gift. the father who was surprised, why she had not pounced on him when he had come back laughed after hearing the reason and gave the doll to his 8 year old daughter. Jeeti took the doll to her bed, kept it's head on the pillow. The doll closed its crystal blue eyes. Jeeti went to sleep with a smile on her face.

The next morning Jeeti woke up and looked at the doll which was still asleep on the pillow. She smiled. She thought about all the games she was going to play today. While having breakfast she kept some tiny crumbs aside for the doll. When Jeeti's mom combed her hair, she also brushed the doll's hair with the tiny pink brush which came in the box. She took the doll to all the rooms and introduced her with all members of her family except her brother and sister, who she had not seen since last night. She wanted to know what they were up to? But she forgot about them quickly and began to convince her mom to sew a new dress for the doll. By afternoon she was tired and after having lunch went to sleep with the doll by her side.

Jeeti woke up in the evening. She got up and went outside to play with her friends. She played all evening without thinking about the doll. She did not think that the doll could no more be on the pillow, that the doll could have been taken by someone while she was asleep. She kept playing and came back home only after dark. She ate dinner and went to her daadi where her elder siblings were talking with the old woman. She sat on the side and listened quitely.

“Daadi, we did it today. Its gonna rain tomorrow. Just see... haan. It will rain cats and dogs and we will all be spared from this heat. Haan ji... and we cried like someone had actually died. We cried for full two minutes ji. We ate the prasad later and we also put flowers on it.”

“You little miscreants”, daadi shouted at them, “I did not tell you to go and burn Jeeti's doll. You rats! You could have made any doll out of cloth and sticks and then burnt it. Now wait till your father comes home. He is going to remove your skin today”. There was silence for two minutes. Everyone was in shock. The 8 year old girl ran inside, crying loudly, into her mother's lap. “Maa, they burnt my doll. I did not let them play.. thats why”. She cried and cried until sleep came to her tired eyes which had run out of tears long ago.

Next morning the sky was heavily overcast. Dark clouds had gathered over the small village of Nandpur. People came out of their homes, on to roof tops, in the streets and also near the peepul tree, which was favorite spot for the old men who would gather there to share some gossip, discuss politics or just to sit in the shade when there daughter-in-laws would holler them out of their homes. The village sweet vendor had already begun preparing jalebis and pakoras. The kids went to the open ground just outside the village to play games which they had long forgotten, hidden inside their homes due to the scorching heat.. Women-folk were standing in gullies, discussing how the clouds were the darkest in five years and how the rain was going to fall for at least 5 days.

The village had come to life again.

But a girl of 8 kept sitting inside with a small new dress and a pink hair brush in her hands.

Then it rained.

P.S. :- the ritual of burning a doll, actually cremating a doll, to call rain was actually performed in some villages in punjab(by kids ofcourse as a doll-play stuff). I was told about this by my grandmother only. And when i tried this in class 2 summer vacations... it actually rained. Don't know many details about the ritual though.