by Farahad Zama
Shastry-uncle said, ‘I’m not joking, brother-in-law. It’s all true. The boy’s name is Ramanujam.’
Her father laughed. He said, ‘Why would such people want to make an alliance with a poor family like ours? Is he sixty years old and a convicted wife-beater?’
Vani gripped Aruna’s arm. Aruna looked at her and Vani grinned, miming a doddering old man with a walking stick. Aruna’s lips twitched, but she was too nervous to smile.
Shastry-uncle said, ‘Nothing like that. He’s a young man - twenty-nine years old. He’s never been married before and he’s tall, and good-looking too.’
Her father asked, ‘Is something wrong with his family?’
Shastry-uncle said, ‘Why must you be so negative? He comes from a respected family. They are rich, but orthodox and not flashy at all. They are Niyogi Brahmins.’
‘Ah!’ said her father, ‘I knew something would come up.’
Aruna’s mother said, ‘That’s a minor matter, surely. If the match is as good as Shastry says, we can overlook something like that. After all, they are still Brahmins.’
Shastry-uncle said, ‘You are right. It is a minor matter. I have spoken to several people at KGH and they are all full of praise for him. I even spoke to the gardener and maid at his house. They’ve been with the family for over twenty years and they too like Ramanujam very much.’
‘It’s natural, isn’t it, for such long-serving servants to say nothing against their master?’ said Aruna’s father.
‘No, that’s not true. Servants are the best source of information about their masters. There is nothing they don’t know and usually they are quite willing to talk. Anyway, why do you keep raising objections instead of accepting the match?’ said Shastry-uncle.
There was silence for a moment and then Aruna’s father said, ‘You are right, Shastry. You have brought a good match and I am sorry to sound so negative.’
‘It’s done. Naanna’s accepted it,’ whispered Vani in Aruna’s ear.
Aruna shook her head. ‘Nothing’s happened. Shastry-uncle hasn’t told them the whole story yet,’ she whispered back.
Aruna’s father said, ‘You know our family’s position. How can we go ahead with a match like that? How much dowry do they want? What kind of wedding ceremony do we have to pay for?’
Shastry-uncle said, ‘They don’t want a single paisa as a dowry. And they’ve agreed for a simple ceremony at your brother’s temple. They will organise a big reception later in town for all their guests.’
Aruna’s mother said, ‘Shastry, this is the best news you’ve ever brought me. May this news be true and your mouth always know the taste of ghee and sugar. But how did you find such a good man for our Aruna?’
Aruna leaned forward and peeked through the open door.
Shastry-uncle said, ‘It wasn’t me. Aruna found the match herself. ’
‘What?’ screamed her father, standing up.
Aruna winced and drew back. The moment she was fearing had arrived.
‘Where is Aruna? I want to hear this from her mouth. I don’t believe that I’ve raised a harlot in my house,’ shouted her father.
Aruna’s knees trembled and she almost slipped to the floor. Vani hugged Aruna and held her close.
Shastry-uncle said softly, ‘Sit down, brother-in-law. You’ve raised two good girls. Calm down and listen to me, please.’
Aruna’s mother said, ‘Sit down, please. Trust our daughter. Trust that our upbringing was good. Please don’t raise your stress levels, it’s not good for you.’
Shastry-uncle said, ‘At first, I too did not believe that a well-brought-up girl like Aruna would find her own husband, but the more I have found out about Ramanujam and his family, the more convinced I am that our daughter has done no wrong. Ramanujam is a Brahmin. Aruna has not run away with him.’
‘That’s all good, but how could she?’ said Aruna’s father.
Shastry-uncle said, ‘She will have a traditional arranged marriage and, as far as the outside world is concerned, nobody need know anything about how the marriage has come about. You are so worried about your finances and she has got the bridegroom and his family to agree to a simple wedding ceremony at the Annavaram temple. She has saved you from committing a great sin. A father is not supposed to keep his young daughter in the house without getting her married.’
Shastry-uncle turned to Aruna’s mother and said, ‘Sister, you think about it. Aruna’s husband will be a doctor; his family owns fertile lands; she will have servants catering to her every wish; she will wear expensive saris and jewellery.’
‘All that sounds great,’ said Aruna’s mother, ‘but—’
‘No second thoughts,’ said Shastry-uncle. ‘You don’t have to pay any dowry. Aruna will be living in the same town after her marriage, not more than three miles away.’
‘Arunaaa!’ shouted her father, ‘come here.’
Aruna freed herself from Vani’s embrace and walked slowly into the living room. As soon as she saw her father, she ran to him and fell on his legs. ‘Sorry, naanna!’ she said.
Aruna’s father was silent for several seconds. Her mother and uncle looked worried as they waited for the explosion. Vani remained in the kitchen. Finally, her father put his hand on her head and blessed her in Sanskrit: ‘May you for ever be a married woman, chiranjeeva soubhagyavatee bhava.’
Aruna looked up into her father’s face with shining eyes. Vani came running out and fell on her knees next to Aruna and held her. Both the girls jumped up and hugged their mother and then Shastry-uncle. Vani couldn’t stop jumping up and down in joy. Aruna’s mother looked stunned and Shastry-uncle fell back in the chair and mopped his brow.
Aruna turned to her father and put her head on his chest. ‘Thank you, naanna,’ she said with tears in her eyes.
Her father sighed and said, ‘Don’t mind me, my dear. The world is moving on and I am just an old man stuck in my ways.’
CHAPTER TWENTY
‘I will not marry Aruna. I don’t want to get married at all,’ said Ramanujam.
‘Please don’t say that, sir. My daughter will be ruined if she is jilted at the altar. We won’t be able to show our faces in society if you reject her now,’ pleaded Aruna’s father.
‘I don’t think married life is for me. I’m thinking of resigning my job and going off to Kashi to live my life as an ascetic on the banks of the Ganges. There are too many problems and compromises in married life,’ said Ramanujam.
‘Don’t think like that,’ said Shastry-uncle. ‘If you think marriage brings problems, it also brings great pleasures. Don’t reject them without even experiencing them first. My niece will keep house, look after you and your parents in both good health and ill. Why do you want to give all this up and live a cold life as a monk?’
Ramanujam was dressed in a white dhoti - a long piece of cloth tied around the waist, covering his lower body. His chest was bare except for a starched silk shawl over one shoulder and a white thread looped over the other shoulder and across his chest, waist and back. He was carrying an old-fashioned black umbrella and a bronze mug with a handle. His feet were shod in wooden sandals and he looked like a monk about to renounce the world. Stopping him were Aruna’s father and uncle, acting in lieu of her nonexistent brothers. At a slight distance surrounding them were several guests - all grinning.
Mr Ali had heard about this custom among Brahmins but had never seen it before. Just before the wedding, a Brahmin bridegroom dresses up as a monk and pretends to renounce all worldly pleasures and live a simple life. It is the job of the bride’s brothers and other male relatives to convince the bridegroom to go through with the wedding.
It was early morning on the day of Aruna’s wedding, just past seven, and they were on top of the mountain in Annavaram. Behind them the white tower of the temple, covered in statuary, could be seen. They could see miles of forest stretching out over the hillside. The sun was just up and the light early-morning mist had not yet evaporated away.
&n
bsp; Aruna’s family had all gone over to her paternal uncle’s house three days earlier, and she had been made a bride - her body anointed with oil and turmeric; her hands and feet covered with henna patterns. Ramanujam’s father had organised the use of a state government guest house in the temple town through his contacts and their family had arrived the day before. Mr Ali and his wife had come along with Ramanujam’s family even though they were guests from the bride’s side; they were staying separately in a hotel.
Ramanujam was eventually prevailed upon to get married and the parties returned to their respective houses.
Two mature banana plants, each bearing a big bunch of green bananas, had been cut down and tied up at the entrance to the wedding hall. Mango leaves were strung between the two banana plants, forming a green doorway; the light green of the long fan-like banana leaves contrasted with the darker green of the smaller mango leaves. Aruna and her close relatives walked into the wedding hall where a priest was waiting for them. Aruna was wearing a nine-yard-long red silk sari with a gold border and all the traditional gold jewellery of a bride - earrings, chain, torques round her upper arms, a chain down the central parting of her hair, several bangles on each hand and silver anklets with bells that tinkled as she walked. Her hair was braided in a long tail. In the centre of the hall, a square, raised platform had been arranged with smaller banana plants on each corner and decorated with more mango leaves. At the centre of the altar was a brick hearth. The marriage hall was still empty and workers were arranging chairs for the guests around the altar. Aruna had come to pray to the goddess Gauri for a successful wedding and a happy marriage afterwards. The goddess herself had undertaken severe penances to get the husband of her choice.
Once the bridal prayers were complete, Aruna and her family left the wedding hall. The wedding proper could now begin.
Mr and Mrs Ali joined Aruna’s family outside. They heard someone behind them say in a voice that carried, ‘Doctors, not multinationals.’
Mr Ali noticed that his wife blushed but stood straighter, looking ahead. A small smile played on her face. People milled around until they heard music. Some of the older people went in to the hall and sat down but most of the others assembled by the gate waiting for the bridegroom’s party. The band soon appeared, wearing bright clothes and turbans, some drumming, some blowing into polished steel trumpets, others into flutes. At the front was a band master, wearing the tallest turban of them all and waving a baton, directing the popular South Indian film song the musicians were playing. Behind the band was a car, decorated so heavily with flowers that Mr Ali was sure that the driver could barely see out of the windscreen. In the car sat the bridegroom and possibly his mother and sister. All the others in his party walked behind the crawling car.
Mr Ali stood with his wife on one side among the crowd as Ramanujam got out of the car. One of Aruna’s aunts broke a coconut in front of him. She then took a hundred-rupee note and waved it round in front of Ramanujam three times and cracked her knuckles loudly on the sides of her head. She gave the hundred-rupee note to a beggar hovering on the outskirts of the crowd. The evil eye having been thus distracted, Ramanujam was welcomed into the hall along with his family.
All the guests settled down; it was a small wedding and there were only a couple of hundred people in the hall. Mr and Mrs Ali found seats in the front row on the side of the altar. Ramanujam and his parents sat cross-legged on one side of the platform facing west. One of Aruna’s paternal uncle’s friends and a Brahmin brought by Ramanujam’s family officiated as the priests at the wedding. As soon as the bridegroom and the guests settled down, chivvied along by the priests who were worried that the auspicious time would pass, a small idol of the elephant-headed god Ganesha was brought in. Ganesha is the god of beginnings and no Hindu ceremony begins without a prayer to him. Ramanujam followed the priests in praying to Ganesha for the successful conduct of the wedding and the removal of any obstacles to a happy married life. Once the prayer was complete, Vani and one of her cousins came on to the platform and held a long sari between them, dividing the platform in two and preventing Ramanujam from seeing the other side. Vani stood with her back to Mr and Mrs Ali and they were lucky enough to see both sides of the altar.
Mrs Ali pointed to a door on the side of the hall and Mr Ali craned his neck to look. Shastry, the bride’s maternal uncle, carried her into the marriage hall and on to the platform in a bamboo basket. Aruna’s cousins helped him by holding the basket. Aruna had her head down, but she occasionally looked up at the guests. Her eyes met Mr Ali’s and she grinned at him, enjoying the occasion and the ride in the basket on her uncle’s and cousins’ shoulders. Mr Ali smiled back at her, thinking that the ceremony they were watching had probably not changed much in a thousand years.
She was placed in front of Ramanujam, on the other side of the sari-curtain. Her parents sat next to her, and Shastry went and stood next to Vani.
‘You’d better not put on any weight,’ he said, puffing heavily. ‘I’ll be even older at your wedding and I might collapse carrying you.’
‘I might have a registered wedding, so you won’t have this trouble,’ she replied.
‘Silence, silly girl. Don’t utter foolish words on this auspicious occasion. Who knows what gods are listening in to grant your wishes?’ her uncle said angrily.
Mr Ali overheard the exchange and smiled. He had met Vani yesterday evening and he liked her sparkiness. Aruna had the same wit but she was much more restrained, while Vani was uninhibited.
The priests started chanting Sanskrit verses from the Vedas. They called on seven generations of ancestors of the bride and groom to bless the union and grant the couple wisdom to deal with the inevitable problems that arise in married life. As the auspicious moment arrived, musicians in the hall started beating drums and playing the South Indian flute. The drums reached a crescendo and, at a signal from one of the priests, Vani’s cousin let go of her end of the sari and Vani whipped it away, leaving the bride and groom face-to-face with each other. Ramanujam glanced at Aruna boldly, who blushed and dropped her eyes shyly to the ground. A priest knelt in front of them with a bowl holding a paste of cumin seeds and jaggery. Aruna and Ramanujam both took a handful of the paste and applied it to each other’s heads.
‘Yuck,’ whispered Mrs Ali to Mr Ali, ‘their hair is messed up.’
‘Rustic woman,’ laughed Mr Ali softly, ‘the mixture of the bitter cumin seeds and sweet jaggery represent the bitter-sweet joys and troubles of marriage.’
‘Maybe,’ said Mrs Ali, ‘but it still messes up their hair.’
One of the priests lit a fire in the brick hearth with sandalwood kindling and ghee.
‘Look,’ said Mrs Ali, pointing at Ramanujam’s sister who was sitting behind Ramanujam. Her face looked like thunder.
‘She looks like she has just popped a peanut into her mouth and it has turned out to be bitter!’ laughed Mr Ali.
‘I hope she doesn’t cause trouble for Aruna,’ said Mrs Ali.
The kindling caught fire and the priests nursed it into a blaze. The drums and flute reached another crescendo and, as the priests called on the blessings of the gods, Ramanujam stood up and, bending down towards Aruna, tied a thread with a gold disc hanging from it like a pendant round Aruna’s neck with three knots. Aruna’s family’s priest handed him another thread with an identical gold disc and Ramanujam tied it round Aruna’s neck like a chain as well.
Mr Ali, who had never seen a Hindu wedding at such close quarters before, turned to Mrs Ali. He said, ‘I thought a mangalsootram was one chain with two pendants?’
Mrs Ali said, ‘Leela told me about this. Apparently, one of those threads with the gold coin is given by Ramanujam’s family and the other by Aruna’s family. Sixteen days after today, the two gold discs will be united on one thread and form the mangalsootram that Aruna will wear as long as she is a married woman.’
Aruna and Ramanujam stood up and the priest gave them a garland each. Aruna placed her
garland round Ramanujam’s neck and Ramanujam placed his round Aruna’s neck. Mrs Ali took out some yellow-coloured rice that was tied in a handkerchief.
‘Where did you get it?’ asked Mr Ali.
‘One of Aruna’s aunts gave it to me,’ said Mrs Ali.
They joined the other guests in throwing the confetti over the couple.
The drums and flute stopped. In the sudden silence, the priest tied the end of Ramanujam’s dhoti and Aruna’s sari together and they went round the fire with Ramanujam leading. On round one, Ramanujam asked the god of fire to witness the wedding and for food to sustain them; on round two he asked for physical strength so their life and marriage would be successful; on the third, he asked the god of fire to help them honour their vows to each other and to society; on round four, for a sensual and comfortable life with his wife; on round five, he prayed that he would own lots of cattle, the sign of a rich man; on round six, he prayed for good rains and a long life that they might see many seasons. On the seventh and final round Ramanujam prayed that he and his wife would always fulfil their religious duties.
Thus with three knots and seven steps, Aruna and Ramanujam were married in front of their families with the fire god as holy witness. They were now man and wife.
Guests came up to them and gifted the newly weds clothes or money or jewellery. Mr and Mrs Ali gave Aruna a parrot-green silk sari and Ramanujam a creamy-white silk dhoti. They also gave the couple a half-foot-high elephant carved from sandalwood.
Aruna left the hall with her husband. The guests got up and the hall was prepared for lunch.
Mr Ali started talking to Ramanujam’s brother-in-law.
‘Where do you live?’ asked Mr Ali.
‘Lawson’s Bay colony,’ Ramanujam’s brother-in-law replied.
Before Mr Ali could ask him another question, Ramanujam’s sister glared at her husband and he left hurriedly.
Mrs Ali joined Mr Ali. Mr Ali said, ‘Oh dear! Somebody’s in trouble.’
