Kavita Karkare

Shefalee Vasudev writes in the outlook about the stoic and brave resilience of Kavita Karkare while grieving for her husband. No more donning a widows white sari or removing symbols of her marriage like her bindi and bangles, but at the same time make sure that manipulative politicians like Narender Modi are not able to score points for her husbands untimely death.


Kavita Karkare, slain Maharashtra ats chief Hemant Karkare's wife, did not meet Gujarat chief minister Narendra Modi
when he dropped by at her home to offer condolence. Two days later, an
image of dignified restraint, she came before the eyes of the tearful
police force, friends and thousands ofMumbaikars who came to bid
goodbye to her martyr husband. In both her actions, she made a choice.
Blink, and you will miss the inspiration in that choice that needs to
be emphasised.

In a society where grief over death is rarely a
private practice, where formalised mourning rituals encourage families
and communities to survive loss by reliving it through loud
expressions, where bereaved women are expected to wear white and look
distraught,Kavita Karkare refused to mount her sorrow publicly. The
light had gone from her eyes, leaving behind an opaque curtain of
despondence. But she held through, unknowingly conveying the power of
personal will. Dressed in a red and light brown sari, a smallbindi on her foreheard
, a red bangle on one of her arms, her hair neatly combed, she
projected an image of forbearance that badly needs to be registered in our collective consciousness as dark fears surround us.

The
life-denying white of widowhood is now being given a decent burial.
Let's hope cinema also takes note and rewrites cliched film versions of
funerals where women in extreme white bid theatrical goodbyes to fallen
soldiers. RememberKareena Kapoor in LOC Kargil? Kavita may not be the first woman to wear a red bindi
at her husband's funeral, but as the stoic wife of a martyr, she should
inspire women who feel pressurised to lament death in socially accepted
ways. Or suffer because people want them to suffer. Years back, after
the death of her husband Dr Bali, renowned dancer-actressVyjanthimala
continued to sport marital symbols, confessing that they resonated
remembrance and love for her husband. All of us know a few women who
made similar choices. Instead of abandoning them within hours, using
signs of marriage as support systems in loss is a touching way to cope
with heartbreak such asKavita's . In all our talk of the women's
movement in India and stories of personal evolutions, we have forgotten
to list how some women now deal with mourning and widowhood. Why some
no longer want to be a part of the chest-beating community where
bangle-breaking, wiping off thebindi and appearing dishevelled is considered appropriate widow response. Kavita
, just by being herself, mirrored this change that must be noticed.
Instead of breaking down in copious tears or succumbing to fainting
spells before the world, she stood silently, struck mute by grief. What
comes across—and not all of it can be emotional paralysis—is will over
obligation. Let's salute it.

Nobody judges people by the way
they grieve. There is nothing wimpish about white or black, both
significant colours of death in different cultures. We don't even know
how VinitaKamte, spouse of ACP Ashok Kamte, or encounter specialist Vijay Salaskar's
wife reacted to the news of their husbands' deaths. Yet, none of them
was seen screaming in front of TV cameras. If they had, nobody would
have raised an eyebrow. The fact that they did not is noteworthy. What
matters is thatKavita spoke of Modi—a man who slandered her husband a few days back for manipulation of the Malegaon
blasts probe—as an "elderly man". The image we will remember is of her
deathly calm during the funeral. Not of a wailing widow, cursing
politicians because the situation gave her sanction. This image should
remind us that individuality is our closest friend in bereavement.

Kavita's
personalisation of grief during the very public funeral of her husband
is an interesting starting point to understand how cultural changes in
India emerge even in death.What an unlikely time to realise with
reassurance and respect how stereotyped widowhood is changing without
opening rebellious fire onanyone's feelings.

In this confessional era of ours when TV acts as mediator, offering conversation and commiseration; when the internet has opened graveyards to bloggers, when the rudaalis of the past are replaced by bereavement websites, candlelight marches and empathetic SMSes, Kavita Karkare's
restraint is indicative of how we learn to form our boundaries,
creating a private space for grief even when it is invaded by goodwill.
When an entire nation mourns the passing away of a loved one, resilient
silence is a new rite of passage.