Pandemic brings new Tij tune

Streets of Kathmandu that would have otherwise been brimming with women in red singing at intersections were deserted on Friday during this year's Tij festival. Forty of Nepal's 77 districts are under strict or partial lockdown amid a spike in Covid-19 cases.

Nepal registered 838 new Covid-19 cases on Friday taking the total to over 30,000. There were 11 more fatalities, with 137 deaths so far.

Pashupati, where fasting women used to line up the whole day at the Shiva temple, was completely empty on Friday. The only people there were mourners who were waiting to cremate relatives by the banks of the Bagmati, swollen by monsoon rain. Kathmandu Valley has become a Covid-19 hotspot in the past two weeks.

Most Nepali women regard Tij as ‘their day’, it is when married women traditionally travel to their parents’ homes to feast and fast, it is a time to make merry and for just one day forget their troubles and hardships. Tij is about getting together and congregating, but that is not possible during the lockdown, so women across Nepal have found innovative ways to mark the festival this year.

And like with everything else in the era of physical distancing, women have taken to the internet. Sisters Apara and Ajapa Sharma have turned to SoundCloud, an online audio platform, to create a podcast about Tij.

"We grew up listening and dancing to Tij songs,” says Apara, “making a podcast was basically us reflecting on our heritage and tradition that we grew up with. It was our way of celebrating Tij."

Women celebrate Tij within their home premises in Bangemuda, Kathmandu. Photos: BIKRAM RAI

Tij playlists are also available on audio platforms such as Spotify. Popular enterprises are holding virtual Tij-themed competitions using various social media platforms.

IPayRemittal, a leading remittance company, is hosting a 16-day long #TeejChallenge using TikTok. Saugat Montessori School is using Zoom to host the ‘Saugaat Teej Queen 2077’ competition, whereas Meridian International School is using YouTube to host the ‘Solo Teej Dance Competition’. Kinumna, an online shopping platform, hosted a ‘Teej Photo Contest’ using Facebook.

This insistence on celebrating Tij is perhaps founded in its value as a form of women empowerment and solidarity. Nepal ranks 115 out of 162 countries in terms of gender inequality, and one in every four Nepali women report experiencing intimate physical and/or sexual partner violence in their lifetime. Last year, one in every 10 Nepali women reported experiencing physical violence.

The statistics are sobering: 40% of Nepali girls are still married before the age of 18 despite laws against child marriage. Even more shocking: 7% of them are married before they are 17. Women’s literacy has lagged behind men's by at least 10%.

As a festival Tij has its origins in Nepal’s patriarchal traditions, but as literacy rose and women gained exposure it now serves as an opportunity for solidarity and escape for Nepali women. Even Tij songs, which used to have fatalistic lyrics have now become more about rights, equality, and even corruption and governance failure.

Traditionally, by undertaking a Tij fast married women were supposed to be fasting for their husbands’ longevity and prosperity, and unmarried women fasted in the hopes of getting an ideal husband. But the festival also relieved married women of their household duties, allowing them to leave their husbands' families for their maternal homes, even if it was for a few days. The folklore that women sang and danced to at dar (the evening prior to Tij) licensed mockery of the patriarchy that dictated their lives. Tij therefore was a form of catharsis and therapy.

The origin of Tij itself is a form of female camaraderie and protest. Tij commemorates Parvati who, it is believed, was taken into hiding so that she would not have to marry Vishnu, the god she was promised to against her wishes. It celebrates her ensuing union with Shiva.

This spirit of Tij is particularly relevant this year as Covid-19 confines women to their homes, and aggravates the already dire gender dynamic in many households. Surveys conducted by Room to Read, a non-profit focused on gender-equal child literacy, suggest that half of Nepal's girls may drop out of school to help their families sustain their livelihoods. Another survey has reported a sharp rise in child marriage and trafficking of girls in various parts of Nepal. The UNFPA State of World Population 2020 report predicts that these numbers will escalate in Nepal, and worldwide.

Although Tij as a form of protest and emancipation is important, activists note that Nepalis can only escape from entrenched patriarchy when both men and women understand, acknowledge, and reject it.

This year, Saathi, a non-profit working to stop violence against women and girls, is using Zoom to host ‘Teej Talks'. Couples share ‘tales of empowerment, equality and joy’, with both husbands and wives chiming in to ‘deepen (their) understanding of harmful traditional and cultural practices'.

Importantly, Tij songs provide a path for men to join women in the conversation around and fight against patriarchy. In Mananiya Jyu by tv journalist turned politician Komal Oli with Pashupati Sharma, the story line has a woman breaking the glass ceiling by becoming a parliamentarian, and fearlessly fighting corruption.

In Motiram ra Jamuna by Badri Pangeni, a husband takes on household work when his wife gets elected. Tij songs are now increasingly featuring male and female artists delivering messages about gender equality.