by Farahad Zama
‘Yes,’ replied the gentleman, the sudden change of topic taking him off-guard, as Mr Ali intended.
‘They are originally from a market town near my own village. Many years ago, before they had set up shop in this town, they had a wholesale sari business in the market town. They were not as wealthy as they are now but they were still very rich. The elder Bezwada brother had a teenage daughter and she sometimes used to help out in the shop. She fell in love with a handsome Muslim weaver boy who used to supply their shop with silk saris. We don’t know how long they were in love with each other, but one day they eloped. She took some money and jewellery from her house and they used it to evade her father and live on the run for two months. Her father was racked with grief and used his wealth and connections with the police to hunt them. The police eventually tracked them down when they tried to pawn one of the pieces of jewellery in a nearby town. When they were caught, the girl was brought back to her father’s house and the boy was arrested by the police. They alleged that he had stolen the money and jewellery. He was released after a week, but he was beaten badly and his right hand was broken and set wrong so he could never use the loom again. Meanwhile, the girl’s father found a widower to marry her to. No matter that he was twenty-five years older and had two children, or that his wife had died in suspicious circumstances; he was rich and belonged to the same caste. On the eve of the wedding, the poor girl drank rat poison and committed suicide.’
‘Are you saying that my son will commit suicide if this wedding doesn’t go through? And anyway I don’t believe your preposterous story,’ said Ramanujam’s father angrily.
‘Of course I am not saying that Ramanujam will commit suicide. Your son is older and certainly more sensible than that poor girl. As for the story, the weaver boy was a distant cousin of mine, so I know what happened. All I am pointing out is that the father of the girl acted in what he thought was the correct way. How could he let his daughter marry a poor weaver - and a Muslim at that? Most people in his position would probably act like he did. But that way lies only misery. We all try to find the best possible bride or groom for our children, but if they go ahead and fall in love then I think we should back off. We should trust their choice and do our best to make their marriage a success.’
‘But this match is so unsuitable,’ wailed Ramanujam’s father.
‘I don’t see why Aruna is so unsuitable to be your daughter-in-law. Unlike that girl I was just talking about, your son is not bringing home a Muslim or a Christian. Aruna is not only a Hindu but also a Brahmin, just like you. She is a mature, sensible girl - not at all flighty or scatter-brained. She comes from a traditional family and not only will she keep your son happy, she will also look after you and your wife as a proper daughter-in-law should.’
‘They are so poor. The family probably cannot even afford a decent wedding,’ said Ramanujam’s father.
‘What would you rather have? A girl like Aruna who will treat you with respect or a girl from a rich family who hasn’t done a day’s work in her life and will find you and your wife boring? A woman like that will probably lose no time trying to alienate your son from you. Is a big wedding more important than the lifelong happiness you and your family will get from a truly wonderful daughter-in-law?’ asked Mr Ali.
The other man shook his head in frustration.
Mr Ali continued, ‘Why is money so important to you? Aruna comes from a family of royal priests; her father is a Sanskrit scholar and a retired teacher. Isn’t that more important than money? Shouldn’t that be more important? Were your forefathers merchants that you attach so much importance to wealth? God has given you bountiful riches and on top of that your son is a doctor who will earn even more money. Why do you need a rich daughter-in-law? She will only bring you money which you already have a lot of. Somebody like Aruna will bring you respect, knowledge, character; she will uphold ancient traditions. These are the things you can never have enough of. After all, as the Tirukkural says: If love and virtue in the household reign, This is of life the perfect grace and gain.’
Ramanujam’s father was silent. He seemed to be thinking. Mr Ali took that as a good sign and said, ‘I can understand that a man in your position has many social obligations and everybody expects a big wedding for your only son. I think I have a solution for that.’
Ramanujam’s father looked up. ‘What solution?’ he asked.
‘Aruna’s paternal uncle is a priest at the Annavaram temple. Let everybody know that it is their family tradition that their children get married in a simple ceremony at the temple. Organise a big reception in town - hire a hall in a five-star hotel and invite everybody.’
‘Is that really their tradition?’ asked the gentleman.
‘I doubt it, because I just made it up.’ Mr Ali grinned. ‘But who’s going to know? Every family’s traditions are slightly different.’
Ramanujam’s father left. Mr Ali went back inside the house and sat down heavily on the sofa, mopping his brow. Mrs Ali smiled in appreciation and gave him a glass of buttermilk to drink.
‘What?’ screamed Vani, leaping into the air.
She turned excitedly towards Aruna and held her by the shoulders and jumped up and down. ‘Tell me more,’ she cried.
People on the street were looking curiously at the girls and Aruna felt self-conscious.
‘Let’s go somewhere more private,’ she said.
It was about eight thirty in the morning and the two girls had left their home a few minutes ago. It was slightly too early for Aruna to leave home but she had left with her sister so she could tell her the news of her engagement.
The sisters went to a nearby café. The early morning breakfast rush in the café was coming to an end and they found a corner where they could sit without anybody at the tables next to them. The smell of tea, coffee and sambhar permeated the place. A waiter came up to them and Vani ordered, ‘Tea, one by two.’
As soon as the waiter left, Vani turned to her sister and said, ‘Come on, tell me. When did it happen? How?’
‘Yesterday afternoon. Mr and Mrs Ali were out and Ram came over. He asked me and I said yes,’ Aruna replied.
Vani stamped her foot. Aruna smiled at the look of exasperation on her sister’s face.
‘Details,’ said Vani, ‘I want details.’
The waiter came back with two half-filled glasses of tea and Vani was silent until he left. As soon as he left, she tapped her finger on the table. Aruna calmly took a sip and Vani looked ready to strangle her.
‘He had asked me before but I had refused,’ Aruna replied finally.
‘What? I don’t believe it. When did he ask you?’ Vani said. ‘Getting information out of you is like squeezing water out of a stone.’
‘About two weeks ago. Before I went to uncle’s house,’ Aruna replied.
‘But why did you refuse him? I thought you liked him. Hang on! That’s why you were all moody and under the weather. I knew it was something like that,’ Vani said.
‘I guess I didn’t want to be one of those girls who have a love marriage,’ said Aruna. ‘Also, they are so rich that I didn’t see how it would work out.’
‘Silly girl! Any other woman would have jumped immediately if a rich, handsome man proposed to her. His wealth would only make him more handsome,’ Vani said. ‘What happened then? Why did you accept this time? Mind you, I think you made the right decision. I can’t believe you were actually muddle-headed enough to refuse him. What would you have done if he hadn’t asked again?’
‘It all seems like a dream now. I guess I’m just lucky that he came over again. Madam found out and had a chat with me. She told me what you just said - that I should have accepted his proposal. I told her that I didn’t think he would be interested any more, but I think they had already arranged to be away from the house when he came by.’
‘You are lucky to have people interested in your welfare. I guess if you are good, then people around you are good too,’ said Vani.
‘
I don’t know about that,’ said Aruna, ‘but I’m definitely lucky.’
‘How are you going to tell naanna? It’s lucky that he is a Brahmin. Can you imagine the hoo-ha if you wanted to marry someone outside the caste?’ Vani asked and shuddered.
‘I don’t think I’d have accepted his proposal if he was not a Brahmin, no matter how good he was. Naanna would have had a fit,’ Aruna said.
She didn’t say that she would never have agreed to marry a non-Brahmin because apart from causing her parents great distress and loss of face, it would have made it extremely difficult to find a good husband for Vani.
‘I have a plan about telling amma and naanna. But I need your help,’ said Aruna.
‘Anything, akka. Tell me your plan,’ said Vani, leaning forward towards Aruna.
‘What is it, Aruna? Why are we going into a teashop?’ asked Shastry-uncle.
‘I want to talk to you about something.’
It was three in the afternoon and Aruna had told Mr Ali that she would come in late for work.
A waiter came to their table and Aruna ordered tea. Shastry ordered idlis, steamed lentil and rice cakes, with no sambhar but with extra coconut chutney. They talked about inconsequential subjects for the next few minutes. Once the waiter had delivered the food and drink, Aruna let her uncle tuck into the idlis. When he had finished one and was about to start on the second one, she asked casually, ‘What’s happening about my wedding, uncle?’
Her uncle looked at her sharply; Aruna blushed under his glance.
He said, ‘Aruna, you are a good girl, not at all like some of the modern girls who seem to think only about boys and fashion. I know how worried you must be about your future to talk so openly about your wedding.’
Aruna took a sip of her tea and did not say anything. Shastry-uncle sighed and said, ‘You know the situation, dear. Your father has got it into his head that he cannot afford to get you married off. He has never been money-minded before, so I don’t understand why he is like this now. I tried to talk to him but he is being incredibly stubborn.’
Aruna replied, ‘I know, uncle. And I know that you’ve been trying hard to help me. Thanks very much. I have a confession to make.’ She tapped her feet nervously on the linoleum covered floor and, not meeting his eyes, continued, ‘A man has asked me to marry him and I have said yes.’
‘What?’ spluttered Shastry and choked as a piece of idlis went the wrong way.
Aruna jumped up and patted her uncle on the back until he recovered. He took a large gulp of water. His face was red. Aruna came round and sat down.
‘You could have warned me; I could have died,’ he said angrily. ‘Anyway, what are you saying? I never expected this of you, Aruna. I know your dad is being stubborn, but we’ll bring him round. Have you no thought for the family’s honour? And what about Vani’s future? Which respectable family will accept her into their household if you have a love marriage? I am disappointed in you. You are the last person I expected to do something like this. And what will your father say? Or your mother? A pity that she lived to see this day. It would have been better if my sister had died before seeing this sorry day.’
Aruna was upset, even though her uncle’s reaction was not unexpected. She raised her handkerchief and gave a pre-arranged signal to a waiter. He left the restaurant. Aruna stayed silent until Vani walked in. Shastry-uncle saw Vani and asked, ‘Have you heard what your sister just told me?’
‘Yes, Shastry-uncle, akka’s already told me. And, by the way, meet Ramanujam,’ Vani said.
Ramanujam had followed her in.
He stood in front of the girls’ uncle, joined his hands in salutation and said, ‘Namaste, uncle.’
‘Hmph,’ Shastry-uncle grunted. Vani poked him on his hand and he scowled at her and turned to Ramanujam and said, ‘Take a seat.’ He added sotto voce, ‘You are taking our daughter, what’s a seat?’
Aruna heard the mutter and looked at her uncle sharply, but he ignored her.
Shastry-uncle looked Ramanujam up and down, clearly appraising him. Aruna was nervous but she knew that her uncle was a fair man and would hear Ramanujam out. That was why she had introduced Ramanujam to him and not to her parents.
‘So what do you do, young man?’ Shastry-uncle asked.
‘I am a doctor in KGH,’ replied Ramanujam.
Vani nudged her uncle again. ‘His name is Ramanujam,’ she said brightly.
Shastry-uncle smiled thinly. ‘Can you tell me about your family? Who is your father? What is your native place?’ he asked.
Ramanujam replied, ‘We are from West Godavary district, uncle. We still have lands there, but my father came here before I was born and we are settled here. My father’s name is Narayan Rao and we live in Waltair uplands.’
‘Isn’t that a posh area, Shastry-uncle?’ asked Vani, brightly.
He glared at his niece and turned to Ramanujam. ‘What’s your caste?’ he asked.
‘We are Niyogi Brahmins, sir, from the Vashishta gothram,’ Ramanujam said.
Shastry-uncle turned to look at Aruna, who looked back at him hopefully. She met his eyes for a couple of seconds before blushing and lowering her gaze. Aruna knew that the match was not perfect - Ramanujam’s family were Niyogi Brahmins whereas they were Vaidiki Brahmins. Niyogi Brahmins followed secular professions whereas Vaidiki Brahmins were priests and officiated at religious ceremonies. But that was a minor issue that could be finessed - at least, she hoped so. She knew that everything else was good, even their gothrams were different, so they were not considered brother and sister and could marry.
‘Tell me more about your family,’ Shastry-uncle said, leaning forward slightly.
Aruna and Vani had already warned Ramanujam that he had to impress their uncle if he expected to take his suit to their father. They chatted for about fifteen minutes. Shastry-uncle found out Ramanujam’s mother’s family were from the village next to his own and that was enough of a connection to place them. The conversation went on and Aruna tried to figure out what her uncle was thinking. Did he approve of the match? She couldn’t make out.
Shastry-uncle said, ‘Aruna’s family is going through some financial troubles at the moment and they cannot afford a wedding right now. In fact, some matches have already come, but her father has refused them for that reason.’
‘I know, uncle. Mr Ali, Aruna’s boss, has suggested a good solution. He says that we should get married in a simple ceremony at Annavaram temple. We can then come back to town and my family can hold a big reception where we can invite everybody.’
‘That’s a great suggestion. Her paternal uncle is the priest there and, yes, it will work very well. But will your family be all right with that?’ he asked.
‘Yes, uncle. Mr Ali convinced my dad about it.’
Shastry turned to Aruna and said, ‘Oh! So your boss has met his dad. What do you need me for, then? It looks as if you are managing everything very well without me. After all, I am only your maternal uncle.’
Aruna reached out across the table and held her uncle’s hand. ‘Shastry-uncle, you are the most important man in this whole wedding. You are the only one who can convince my dad. I would not dare to go in front of him myself and tell him all this.’
Ramanujam said, ‘This morning my father went angrily to Mr Ali’s house and started shouting at him, saying that he must have been responsible for leading me astray. I didn’t know where he had gone but when he came back, he told me. He was not entirely happy, but he seemed resigned.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Shastry-uncle, ‘will your parents be all right about the marriage? Will they treat our Aruna well?’ he asked.
‘Of course, uncle. I have already told them that I expect them to treat her properly. I will support my wife and make sure that she will be happy.’
‘Uncle, I’ve decided that I’ll carry on working after marriage and use my salary to help my parents,’ said Aruna.
‘Are you sure, Daughter? You might feel like that now, but after marr
iage you will have other responsibilities. Your priorities will change. Your in-laws might not like it,’ Shastry-uncle said.
‘That’s OK, uncle,’ said Ramanujam. ‘I think it is good that Aruna will continue working after marriage and not just get stuck in the house. And if she wants to help her family with the money she’s earned, who am I to stop her?’
Ramanujam and Shastry-uncle got up and left, leaving Aruna and Vani at the table. Just before they went through the door, they heard their uncle ask, ‘Who did you say your head of department was?’
Aruna turned to Vani and asked, ‘What do you think? Did uncle like him?’
‘I’m sure he did,’ said Vani.
‘I don’t think he’s made up his mind. Shastry-uncle will go round the hospital and talk to the people who work there, and I don’t know what other investigations he will carry out before deciding.’
A few days later, Aruna’s family were all relaxing after dinner when there was a knock on the door. Aruna opened the door and Shastry-uncle walked in. One look at his face and Aruna knew that he had come to talk to her parents about Ramanujam. She signalled Vani and they both went into the kitchen, leaving the door slightly open so they could hear the conversation in the other room.
After some preliminary conversation, Shastry-uncle said, ‘I have a match for Aruna.’
Her father said, ‘Not again! My ears have gone ripe listening to you. Shastry, how many times must I tell you? I don’t want to discuss the matter any more.’
Shastry-uncle said, ‘You’ve told me several times, but believe me when I say this is the last time I will bring up this topic. This time you don’t have any choice but to agree to the match I’ve brought.’
Aruna heard her mother say, ‘Just listen to him once. What’s the harm?’
Her father grunted and Shastry-uncle took that as a signal to continue. ‘The boy is a doctor in KGH. Their family is very wealthy - they have fertile lands in Godavary district and a big house near the university.’
Her father said, ‘Shastry, now you are joking. Why do you sprinkle salt on an open wound?’
