ARTIST BIOGRAPHY: Heera Karna

Heera Karna

My grandfather declared that a girl can't go to school but when I was 12 or 13 1 watched other girls going to school and I begged my mother until she let me go. But then the other students only made fun of me saying "So big and only in grade one!" For two or three days a week I studied until grade 3. Then news went around that boys and girls who attended school were making love marriages. I was fifteen and my mother again forbade me to go to school, and at sixteen my parents arranged my marriage. 

At my husband's house I did the housework always worrying that they might beat me. My husband was only studying and helping his father
with his government job. When his father died he had no work but an uncle gave him land in another village. He spent a long time away. I was twenty-one and pregnant. I had no idea that in that village he made another marriage.

After my son was born I stayed with my parents. A few times they bought clothes and made special foods because news came that my husband was coming for me, but he never did. Then I was determined to go visit him. But my father said,' He hasn't come for you , how can you go alone? Everyone will say, "What kind of a father are you -- letting your daughter go alone to such a husband", . I said, 'Why shouldn't I go? A year has passed since I've seen my husband'. So I was traveling with my younger brother when a woman stopped me and said, "Where are you going? Don't you know your husband has taken another wife? You can go, but no good will come of it." 

I arrived in the evening, and that evening my husband also arrived from the other house with new saris, oil, rice and special foods. All he said to me was, "Is this a nice gift for a fair person?" I still didn't know anything, and I asked, "Who is it for?" All he said was that it was for his friend's marriage. His sister who knew the truth told me to keep the clothes, but I told her I wouldn't keep things that were for another's marriage.

In the morning he rose to go to his friend's marriage. For five days he was gone and during that time, his nephew woke me while I was sleeping and said, "Uncle has made another marriage." It was like fire was in my chest--I was so shocked and afraid. 

So after five days he came home and I understood. I was cooking and he arrived with a fancy tika painted on his forehead and his fingernails painted also. I grabbed his legs and I sobbed. He said nothing. He spoke with his sister, he laughed with her, but to me he said nothing. I asked who had painted his fingernails and he told me it was his friend's wife. 

He stayed two days and returned to the other wife for a long time. During those two days I became pregnant. For two or three years after that, he gave me no food or clothing. The village people said, 'Why do you stay here? Your child is sick and your husband doesn't help. Return to your parents before you lose your child, too. 

I came home. They saw me and cried, "we gave everything to get her married. We sold our land, bought expensive jewelery and kitchen utensils and they kept everything. Stay with us now." 

They didn't want me to go anywhere. I heard there was work doing Mithila painting in Janakpur but they told me to stay. So I learned how to roll cigarettes for money. I rolled cigarettes for 2-3 months, and then I tried to get work painting. I practiced for one week and then I was given work.

Now after eight years my husband is calling me because I'm earning money. He asks me to buy him clothes and give him money. Why should I? I tell him, "when I cried you did nothing to explain." I say, "Don't you have any shame?" 

But the women at our center tell me to forget the past and visit him because in my caste I'm not allowed to remarry. One day he called our center and asked me to come to a big fair in his village. I came because my youngest son wants a father and keeps confusing my younger brother with his father. I go and only stay one night but the other wife just fights--I don't need him any more. 

I was the second person in our center to bicycle to work. Now twenty or thirty have bought bicycles with a loan from our center. At first I was embarrassed because the boys shouted "Heroine!" and made jokes but I've learned not to listen. 

Once I had a bad bicycle accident because I had a great worry on my mind. But I like to paint women riding bicycles. It's a new thing. On the handlebars is a mirror which is fish-shaped. It's for seeing what is coming behind you.

Childbirth painting: When I had a child another woman came from a low caste to massage me, to bathe the child, clean up the placenta and cut the umbillical cord -- this is work that only an untouchable can do. She fed me milk. I took only milk--no food. My mother was there, and then she went to bathe to make herself pure again.