by Farahad Zama
Mr Ali pursed his lips. Aruna was in his care while she worked in his house and he was disturbed by what he heard. ‘So why are you happy that Aruna is not feeling well?’ he asked.
‘Since when did Aruna start feeling depressed?’ asked Ramanujam, in reply.
Mr Ali thought back and said, ‘I think her depression started about the time we went to a wedding in Kottavalasa. I remember she was all right the day before and I didn’t see her on the Sunday because we left early and she wasn’t here when we came back. I thought it was odd at the time, because I was expecting her to be around when we returned. Monday was her day off. It was after that. Yes, I am sure - it started then.’ Mr Ali was silent for a moment and then looked at Ramanujam sharply. ‘Did you come here that day when we were away? Did you say anything to her to make her depressed?’
Looking at Ramanujam’s face, Mr Ali’s fears were confirmed. ‘I’m right, aren’t I? You did come here that Sunday. What did you say to her? If you’ve done anything to make her sad, I won’t forgive you. Doctor? Pah! You should be ashamed of yourself. I’ll call your parents and tell them what kind of son they’ve raised. I should not have left her alone in the house to manage by herself. That was wrong of me.’
Mr Ali didn’t know he had got up from his chair and that his voice was raised in anger. Mrs Ali came out.
‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.
Mr Ali pointed his finger at Ramanujam. ‘This man . . .’ he said, spluttering. He was unable to carry on.
Ramanujam raised his hands. ‘Uncle, it wasn’t anything like that. Please relax and let me say what happened. I proposed to her. I asked her to marry me.’
‘What?’ said Mr Ali. He glanced at his wife and was surprised to see her unmoved, almost as if she had known about it already.
‘Yes, I asked Aruna to marry me and she refused. She says she cannot marry me.’
‘Good,’ snapped Mr Ali, ungraciously. He was still angry.
Mrs Ali took a seat and asked her husband to sit down as well. But, Mr Ali was too wound up to sit down. Finally, Mrs Ali asked her husband to get three glasses of water.
‘Can’t you see that our guest is thirsty?’ she asked him.
Mr Ali muttered something under his breath, but his innate courtesy won out. By the time he came out with three glasses of water on a tray, he was less angry and more rational. Just then a man arrived. Mr Ali went to the gate and the man asked, ‘Is this the marriage bureau? I’ve seen an advertisement in the newspaper. ’
Mr Ali replied, ‘Yes, this is the marriage bureau, but it is closed for the day. Please come back tomorrow a little bit earlier.’
The man went away and Mr Ali closed the gate. It was the first time he had ever turned away a potential client. He came back inside and sat next to Mrs Ali, facing Ramanujam.
‘Right,’ he said, ‘please tell us again what happened.’
‘There isn’t a lot more to add,’ said Ramanujam. ‘I like Aruna a lot and I thought she liked me as well. I asked her to marry me and she refused. I went away, wondering how I could have misread her so badly. However, when I heard from my sister that she had been feeling depressed and had taken time off, I felt a new hope. Maybe she does have feelings for me after all. So, I started thinking about our conversation and it struck me that she did not say that she would not marry me. Aruna said that she could not marry me. That’s why I am here - to ask for your help in talking to Aruna again and convincing her to marry me.’
Mr Ali thought for a moment. He had obviously misjudged the young man in front of him.
‘I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I shouldn’t have spoken like that,’ he said.
Ramanujam waved his hand, brushing away the apology. ‘You were concerned for Aruna’s welfare, that’s not wrong,’ he said.
‘Let us say that we can help convince Aruna to marry you . . .’ began Mrs Ali. Ramanujam’s face brightened with hope and she quickly added, ‘Not that I am saying we can, but just say that we might. Have you really thought this through? The potential brides that your parents and sister are looking at for you are more beautiful than Aruna. They are taller, fairer and more glamorous.’
Ramanujam replied, ‘I’ve seen a lot of photos, and some of the girls that my sister and parents have shortlisted. Aruna is more beautiful than any of them. They all look artificial - made up. Aruna is a natural beauty; she is so simple, unaffected. She looks so elegant even in old clothes, unlike those others who have to dress up in finery and wear expensive jewellery to look their best.’
Mr Ali said, ‘Ramanujam, it certainly seems as if you like Aruna very much. But, have you thought about your family? How will they take it? Here they are, going everywhere to find the perfect bride for you and you come home and tell them that you’ve chosen one yourself.’
Ramanujam said, ‘That’s OK, uncle. The moment Aruna agrees, I will convince them. I’m sure they’ll love Aruna just as I do. They’ve never denied me anything in the past and I don’t think they will frustrate me in something so important.’
Mrs Ali said, ‘You are being naive, young man. They may not deny you. They probably won’t even behave any differently to you but they’ll probably make Aruna’s life hell. I assume you are planning to stay with your parents even after you are married?’
‘Yes, madam. Of course we will stay with my parents after getting married. Why would we go anywhere else?’ asked Ramanujam.
‘As I said, they can make life difficult for Aruna. They can make her work like a servant or not talk to her at all or put her down in front of your relatives and insult her. They can do a hundred things to make her miserable and Aruna, being the kind of girl she is, will probably not even complain to you so you don’t get upset.’
‘You don’t know my family, madam,’ said Ramanujam stiffly. ‘They are not like that. And we have servants in our house who’ve been with us for years. Why would Aruna have to do any housework that she doesn’t want to? It doesn’t make sense.’
Mr Ali went behind his table to the filing cupboard and took out Ramanujam’s application form. He read from it and said, ‘It says here that you are looking for a tall, fair and educated girl from a rich family who will pay a large dowry. While I agree with you that Aruna is a handsome girl, she is not tall or very fair. And while she is an educated girl, she is most definitely not from a rich family. In fact, the reason she has not got married so far is because her family cannot afford a wedding or a decent dowry for her.’
Ramanujam looked embarrassed. He said, ‘Uncle, you cannot hold this against me. All those conditions were laid down by my family - I never asked for a dowry.’
Mr Ali said, ‘You may not have and that’s a credit to you. But, you went along with your family’s demands. You never opposed them and said that you didn’t want a dowry from the girl you married. What happens tomorrow when your family ill-treat Aruna because she didn’t bring any dowry? Will you oppose them then when you don’t have the strength to oppose them now?’
Ramanujam said angrily, ‘Sir, you are insulting my family. We are respectable people and would never treat somebody badly just because they are poor.’
Mrs Ali said, ‘Calm down, Ramanujam. We have seen rather more of this world than you have. Such things should not happen in respectable families, but they do. We read about so many such cases in the newspapers. People have become materialistic these days and don’t care that the wealth a daughter-in-law brings into a house is not to be measured in money or land. It is in her culture, her good nature and the happiness she brings their son. It’s sad, but that’s the way it is. These things do happen, you know.’
Ramanujam sighed and said, ‘Uncle, aunty, tell me how I can convince you that Aruna would be happy with me and my family if we got married. Don’t ask me to leave my family and set up my own household - that would break my parents’ hearts. Tell me anything short of that and I’m willing to do it.’
Mrs Ali said, ‘Aruna is an intelligent girl and I’m sure she’s though
t about all these things and that’s why she said she could not marry you. To convince us, and more importantly, to convince Aruna, you first need to be aware that such bad things can happen even in otherwise perfectly good families. You cannot deny it to yourself. Acknowledge clearly to yourself and to us that a daughter-in-law can be ill-treated in any family, however respectable or normal. And that risk of ill-treatment increases if you marry against their wishes and you continue to live with your parents.’
Ramanujam was silent.
Mrs Ali waited for a few seconds and said, ‘You have to say it aloud - only then will it become true in your heart. Go on, it is not an insult to your family. I am not saying that it will definitely happen, but it may happen. The power to prevent it is in your hands. But to unleash that power, first you need to acknowledge its necessity.’
Ramanujam still remained silent. The anguish on his face was clear. He obviously idolised his parents and loved his sister.
Mr Ali said, ‘Ramanujam, you are doing it for Aruna. We are not asking you to say it to the whole world - just to Aruna and the people who have her interests at heart and most importantly, to yourself.’
Ramanujam took a deep breath and sighed. His head was bent low and he looked at the ground in front of him. ‘You are right. You are both more experienced and worldly wise than I am. I agree. If Aruna agrees to my proposal, I will be marrying a girl not chosen by my parents or sister. They might look down on her because she is not the image of my bride that they have in mind. I don’t think that they would actively ill-treat her but they could make her feel left out and miserable,’ he said.
Mr Ali said, ‘Repeat it again. Make it true to yourself.’
Ramanujam looked up at Mr Ali in surprise. He opened his mouth to protest, but then stopped and said, ‘Aruna may be treated badly by my family if I marry her.’
Mr Ali beamed at him.
‘Congratulations, Ramanujam. You have just cleared the most difficult hurdle. Now that you’ve recognised what can happen, it is much easier to guard against it,’ Mr Ali said. ‘Your bride . . . any bride, leaves her father’s house and follows her new husband into his house. She is placing an enormous trust in her husband. You, as the husband, have to safeguard that trust. There will be conflicts between your parents, especially your mother and your bride. After all, she has come into a settled household and is bound to disrupt it somewhat. Also, your parents might feel insecure; they might feel that they are losing a son to this strange woman. You must not be blind to these conflicts. You have to take a firm line on these matters - not always in favour of your wife, but not always supporting your parents either. You can expect your wife to change in some things and tell her that she is younger and should be more open to change than your parents. But you must equally tell your parents that some things will necessarily be different with a daughter-in-law in the house. Your wife must know when you tell your parents this - she must not feel lonely and lost as if nobody in the world is taking her side. It is a difficult job - a man can feel torn between his role as a son and as a husband. But nobody ever said that being a man is easy. Can you do this?’
A look of resolve came on Ramanujam’s face. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I think I can do it. As you say, it will not be easy. But for the sake of the love I feel for Aruna and for my parents, I will do it. I will be alive to any conflicts that may arise and attempt to resolve them. I will make sure that Aruna does not feel lonely in her new house.’
Mr Ali said, ‘You may still have to leave your house and set up on your own with Aruna. You will have to make it clear to your parents that while you love them, Aruna’s happiness matters too.’
Ramanujam looked unhappy and Mrs Ali added, ‘The very fact that you are willing to say such a thing will make it less likely to happen. Aruna is a mature girl and she will not try and break up your family. You know that.’
Ramanujam nodded. ‘You are right,’ he said. ‘I have to have confidence in my parents and in Aruna that they are all sensible people. I just have to make sure that any problems are nipped in the bud before they fester like an ill-bandaged wound. All that remains now is to convince Aruna,’ said Ramanujam, after a moment’s silence. He stood up to go. ‘Thank you, uncle and aunty, for all your help. Aruna is a lucky girl that she has people like you looking out for her.’
‘Should we tell Aruna about this chat?’ asked Mr Ali after Ramanujam was gone.
Mrs Ali thought for a moment and replied, ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Are we doing the right thing by encouraging Ramanujam? Shouldn’t we respect her wishes?’ said Mr Ali.
‘Normally I would have agreed with you, but she doesn’t know her own mind. She has thought through some of the issues and refused him, but she is not happy about it. That’s why she has been so distressed since then, poor girl. Ramanujam really seems to like her and if, as he says, he will look out for her, he is a fantastic match. We cannot ignore that - we have to try and push her to make the right decision. If they were from different castes, I would have been more wary. But they are both Brahmins, so a lot of problems won’t even come up,’ said Mrs Ali.
‘Yes,’ said Mr Ali, ‘they are both vegetarians, for a start.’
‘You and your obsession with food!’ laughed Mrs Ali. ‘I’m thinking about what you were saying to Ramanujam when I came out. You said you were wrong to leave her alone in the house to face him. You were right; would you leave your daughter and arrange for a man to come and talk to her? I don’t think so. If and when he comes back to talk to her, she cannot be on her own.’
‘But what can we do? We can’t stay here. They need some privacy to work this out,’ said Mr Ali.
Mrs Ali said, ‘We cannot ask her to be alone. That’s wrong. Let me think about it.’
They were both silent for a few moments. Then, Mrs Ali asked, ‘Do you really think it is so simple? That he will come in on Wednesday and propose and the two will be united?’
Mr Ali thought for a second and shook his head. ‘I doubt it. He has to convince his family. Ramanujam is a nice guy but his sister is one sharp woman - the kind who can count your intestines if you yawn in front of her. She is not going to agree to this match and I am not sure that he has the strength to go against his whole family.’
Mrs Ali sighed. ‘I know what you mean. It’s a pity - they would make such a good pair.’
Aruna came back to work on Tuesday. She smiled more readily than before her holiday and the break seemed to have done wonders for her equanimity.
Mr Ali had been tied to the desk all week and he took the opportunity to leave Aruna in the office and go to the bank and the post office. It was mid-morning before all the clients went away and Aruna was by herself. Mrs Ali came out with cool lemonade for both of them, and sat down. Aruna thanked Mrs Ali and they both slowly sipped from their glasses.
‘How was your holiday?’ asked Mrs Ali.
‘It was good, madam. We went to my uncle’s house. It was quite lucky that we went because my aunt had fallen ill, so I was able to take care of her and look after the household.’
Mrs Ali opened the Telugu newspaper and started reading it. ‘This is interesting,’ she said.
‘What, madam?’ asked Aruna, looking up from her work.
‘Are you embarrassed about your English?’ said Mrs Ali.
‘Me?’ asked Aruna.
‘No!’ laughed Mrs Ali. ‘That’s what it says here in the paper. They are going to run a series of weekly articles to help their readers improve their English language skills.’
They were both silent for a moment. Mrs Ali pursed her lips in thought and then said, ‘I might do it. I know a little bit of English but it will be good to be more conversant in it.’
The phone rang and Aruna picked it up. As she listened, her eyes widened and her colour paled. She slowly put the phone down and a tear trickled down her cheek.
Mrs Ali quickly walked over to where Aruna was sitting. ‘What happened, Aruna?’ she asked. ‘Is everything all ri
ght?’
Aruna slowly turned her head and looked at her. ‘Why shouldn’t it be all right, madam? After all, what is it to me?’ she said, laughing mirthlessly.
Mrs Ali was really concerned now. ‘Stop it, Aruna!’ she said sharply. ‘Who was it on the phone and what did they say?’
Aruna said, ‘That was Ram’s sister, madam. She says they are all going to see a potential bride this evening and meet her family.’
Mrs Ali took Aruna’s hands in her own. ‘I’m sorry, dear. I’m really sorry.’
That evening, Aruna ate her dinner mechanically. It was obvious that she was not enjoying it.
‘What’s wrong with you, Aruna?’ asked her mother. ‘I made your favourite plantain fry and drumstick sambhar and you are eating your food like it is so much coal.’
‘Nothing, amma. I’m all right.’
‘You were fine this morning and now you are all depressed. Is everything OK at work?’ asked her mother.
‘I’ve just got a headache. I think I’ll go to bed straight after dinner,’ Aruna said.
Less than fifteen minutes later, she was in bed; the sheet completely covering her head to block out the light in the room. In the darkness, her pillow slowly became wet despite her efforts to stop her tears. She wondered if Ram was talking to the girl. Was he telling her about his time in Delhi? Were they laughing about his efforts to meet girls at the hostel? She had made the choice of her own free will, hadn’t she? So why feel miserable? He could meet anyone he wanted to. She didn’t care.
After a few minutes, she started reciting the three-thousand-year-old Gayatri mantra under her breath in Sanskrit, as her father had taught her to do whenever she was unhappy or confused. ‘Om bhoor bhuwah swaha - O God, Thou art the giver of life, the remover of pain and sorrow, the bestower of happiness; O Creator of the universe, may we receive Thy supreme light; may Thou guide us in the right direction.’
