Dedicated to: Adwitiya_Bagchi meofcourse18 ShardaPandit4

"I often find myself wondering, 

what marriage means,

Is it just sharing the bed at night?

Or is it just sharing an active conjugal life?

Is marriage a duty, an obligation; 

or is it living those fantasies and expectations?

Is marriage equivalent to closing doors,

for a woman who wanted to soar?

Is marriage all about bearing kids?

Or is it never letting go even when pained and facing hardships?"

-Elegiac_Damsel

______

15th August 2017

Third person's point of view:

Can anyone define a life-changing moment? 

When is it that life begins? When is that life change? When does life happen?

There are so many moments in our lives when we reminisce and contemplate on the different possibilities; those times we elucidate on the 'what-ifs' in our lives which contrast reality. It can be the moment when the report card in our hands reflects pitiful marks, when the dress that we get from the mall turns out to be a misfit, or when we curse ourselves for opting for a wrong subject in college? 

Life is a weird interface of what happens and what could have happened... Although we feel like going after the latter, all of us are more or less bound to fate and destiny.

Mrinalini was carried towards her destiny, by her brother and a neighbourhood boy.

 As the custom demanded, her face was covered by betel leaves when she arrived at the wedding altar. Her college friends, two of whom knew the truth, had tried to keep her cheerful and the lot hooted and cheered endlessly as one would during a soccer game between East Bengal and Mohun Bagan, when as she was made to circumnavigate her husband 7 times.

Mrinalini was brought face to face with her husband. She removed the betel leaves that obstructed her view and the bride and groom's gaze met. Overcome with consciousness, nervousness, and shyness all of a sudden, she abruptly looked down at the ground which made everyone around her laugh. 

"Exchange the garlands now. Come on! You must be hungry, Mrinalini!" her neighbour told her teasingly

With much fanfare, the much-awaited, ceremonious garland exchange took place. Mrinalini could feel his amused gaze on her the entire time when she struggled to put the garland around his neck. He was tall and she had trouble balancing herself, but then he bent his head for her convenience and that made all those surrounding the couple hoot aloud. The bride blushed a deep shade of red. She was embarrassed at the sudden, unexpected cooperation from his end.

The following rituals required her to sit, facing the groom. Her sampradan (kanyadaan) was done by Barun. He faced his niece's hand in her groom's and that caused Mrinalini's insides to churn. So far, she had been scared by the thought of marriage and now it was happening!

She lifted her gaze slightly, to take a look at 'him' and got a small smile in reply that fortunately went unnoticed. 

She could remember the day she had met him. He was the 7th prospective groom that her Uncle had arranged for and her stomach had been in knots...

Flashback :

July 2017

Kolkata was reeling peacefully with the onset of the monsoon. The distributary of the holy Ganges, the Hooghly river which flowed happily through the City of Joy, was full of Hilsa fish. The spawning season of fish brought joy to all non-vegetarian natives in the form of freshwater fish. Apart from this, the monsoon brought a certain kind of peace and relief to all inhabitants of Kolkata, from the intense heat of summer. The fresh fragrance of the wet earth and the green trees lingered in the air, bringing in a feeling of peace to anyone who would stop to inhale. The early mornings were now characterized by the cool breeze and gentle rain which would gradually give way to torrential showers and furious zephyrs, later in the day.

It was one such monsoon morning when the usually active city was fighting laziness, the Debnath household was bustling with activity. They were anticipating the 7th prospective suitor for Mini.

"Mini, you have already refused 6 grooms without giving us a proper reason. The 7th boy is coming today and he is coming here alone. His father was my old acquaintance. He is no longer there and his mother cannot walk without support. Just meet him once and get the basic discussion done. We'll meet his mother if you give us the green signal." Barun told his niece while sipping his morning tea

Mrinalini was seated across him, on the sofa and she nodded her head quietly. She had refused the other boys because of reasons that made no sense to anyone else in the family. They had all been in the age range of 23-28 and were either heirs to their father's business or happened to be graduates who were still in college and financially dependent on their fathers. She had been even more rigid and had turned down the proposals from the guy whose mother had told her that it was custom to veil herself in front of elders. It wasn't like Mrinalini disrespected their sentiments and customs, it was simply that she couldn't bear to live a life like that which would suffocate her to a mentally exhausted state. 

Her requirement was simple; she wanted a man who would be financially independent, someone who had begun from scratch. Having spent the majority of her life in debt, she wanted to live a life where no one would at least question her husband or object unnecessarily. 

That morning, at approximately 8 a.m., the man in question arrived. He was in official clothes which indicated that he had been on his way to work. Her uncle did the basic introductions and then gave the two of them the liberty and space to talk.

Following the initial silence and awkwardness, he finally bothered to initiate conversation, "Hi. I am Debarghya Acharya. It's nice to meet you, Mrinalini."

"Likewise," Mrinalini replied, shyly. "Thank you for coming alone."

His eyebrows scrunched up in confusion at the odd choice of words. It took some time for Mrinalini to realize that she had spoken those words aloud when she wasn't supposed to. She flushed red in embarrassment and fidgeted with her stole. A moment later, words tumbled out of her mouth, "I was tired of serving tea or coffee or juice to the big families who would come here. I am just glad that I don't have to serve anyone more, unnecessarily. I mean... it isn't like I don't like guests, it is just that..."

"It doesn't make any sense? As in you think the criteria that a girl can serve tea or coffee without spilling anything is an incorrect way of judging if she is ready to be married?" Debarghya offered, with a gentle smile.

Mrinalini nodded, "I shouldn't have spoken to you about the others. It was rude of me, and inconsiderate too. Sorry."

"That's fine. At least it broke the ice without making things inept. Don't mind, but how old are you? You look too young," he stated bluntly.

"I am young, that is I think 21 is supposed to be young," she replied, humorlessly.

"I am 31," he answered plainly.

Mrinalini wasn't bothered about the age difference. She had made that clear to her Uncle and brother earlier. 

"Mrinalini, why would you marry so early?" she heard him ask her.

She lifted her gaze to look straight at the man, her demeanour losing the antecedent nervousness, "My brother is shifting to the United Kingdom. Jethu and Jethima want to shift there with Dadabhai. They are hoping to finalize an alliance for me so that they can be assured about my future. Are you going to ask them for dowry?"

He must have guessed the inner meaning of her initial words, but he chose to act oblivious. The question however was stupefying. Why would she ask him if he would commit a crime? Demanding dowry was a serious offence and he wasn't someone who would support that.

"I am a brother to a girl. I can never support taking or giving dowry. Girls aren't objects and I don't consider them so." 

"Tell me something about your family," Mrinalini asked after a while, curious to know more about him, especially after the impressive reply.

Debarghya smiled at her question. He had initially thought that the girl would downright reject him because of his age. He replied to her question in a precise manner, "My mother is the matriarch of my family. I have two siblings, a sister who is 25 and a brother who is of your age. My sister is pursuing her Master's in Literature and my brother is a third-year student of Software engineering at I.I.T., Kharagpur. My father passed away 9 years ago, hence I am what you can say the head of my family."

"Even I don't have my Baba," Mrinalini stated, quietly, her voice reflecting her despondence.

"I know. He wouldn't like you to be so sad though. Tell me something about yourself, Mrinalini." 

"I am 21. I just graduated with a degree in Chemistry from Calcutta University. I love the rain." she said, stretching out her palm to touch and capture the raindrops that were falling slowly, "The rain fascinates me. I love drinking coffee sitting somewhere quietly, on a monsoon evening. I love reading. I like writing too, but reading is my first love. Do you read?"

"Yes, I do. Mostly Fiction. Non-fiction, finance, business, etc. follow me around anyways, so fiction provides that momentary peace and a mode of escaping reality. Favourite book?" he asked amicably, their conversation gradually becoming comfortable and personal

"I have too many! I can name you five, one from each genre; The Fault in Our Stars by John Greene, The Rage of Angels by Sidney Sheldon, The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri, Prothom Protishruti (The First Promise) by Ashapoorna Devi, and the Mahabharata," she replied with a smile

"It is an odd combination of books. Nonetheless, I must say you have good taste, they are all acclaimed, popular, and have been penned beautifully. And who's your favourite character?"

"Krishnaa" she replied with conviction and no hesitation in her voice.

"As in?"

Mrinalini smiled as she had anticipated this question, "You know her. Just that the world remembers her as Draupadi; the daughter of King Drupad."

He leaned towards her slightly asking further, "Why? Is it because she was a strong lady?"

She nodded, "Indeed. She had 5 husbands, she was born to a powerful king, but she had an identity beyond all that. She was strong, confident, and beautiful in every way. But there is something more that I appreciate and admire about her."

"And what that might be?"

"The fact that she stood out; strong, beautiful and an independent woman, even in a narrow-minded, patriarchal era."

Debarghya was sure that she admired Draupadi more because her own family was what one would call 'patriarchal'. The girl had some obvious spark in her, and it was intriguing as well as attractive. He liked her but wasn't too sure of her opinion. She was mesmerizing in a way and had the innocence and jocundity of a girl of her age mixed with maturity, but then why would she agree to marry someone 10 years older than her? Someone who had no extraordinary wealth or power? Wasn't everyone nowadays looking for materialistic stuff? 

'Perhaps she is under the wrong impression that I am rich. I ought to clear her misunderstanding,'  he told himself.

Mrinalini had also liked the man, but she was inclined to know a bit more about him. She stole a glance or two at his pensive self, trying to infer what was going on in his mind.

At length, he cleared his throat to speak, "Mrinalini, I would like to tell you something about myself. I am an ordinary graduate. I have a B.Com. done and I work in the Sales department in a private pharmaceutical company. I am not a rich man and I don't have any ancestral property or some wealthy godfather. My mother lives with me and I am responsible for my siblings too. I cannot afford every luxury in the world, but I earn enough for necessities and basic luxuries. I am not in Sales by choice, it was a necessity. I had to quit the C.A. course I had qualified into, following Baba's death. I am being very straightforward with you and clearing out everything beforehand. I am sure you have no reason to agree to my proposal. I don't expect you to, but I'd also like to tell you that I am not going to disclose too many details about my economic status, lifestyle, and ability, now that we are strangers. You'll know more only if you become my wife." 

Mrinalini looked away at his last words. The man sure was honest and in a way, vulnerable. One little detail did not escape her; he had missed out on higher education due to unfavourable circumstances but had never stopped his sister from pursuing her post-graduation. If not anything else, she was positive that he was a man who respected women and did not mind his sister being more qualified than him. She got positive precognition from him.

Debarghya was beginning to feel abashed at his outburst. Out of all that he had spoken, why on earth had he added the last line? It had been unintentional, but in a way, he did want the young woman to agree to marry him. Most girls earlier had chosen to reject him when they had heard he earned a modestly and that he was responsible for everyone in the family. Several of them had refused to marry him because it would mean taking up the responsibility of his crippled mother. It was so hard to believe how the world had evolved and become over the years! With things becoming so fast-moving and competitive, no one had the time or the will to take up extra accountability. After all, who doesn't wish for an easy and made life?

He was brought back to the present by Mrinalini's low voice, "I do not come from a very rich background myself. The thought of living in a mansion scares me. What if there are ghosts there? I am scared of ghosts."

Debarghya chuckled at her words, "You want to live a modest life in a small house all your life, so you can avoid interacting with ghosts?"

Mrinalini nodded, "Not just ghosts, it would keep ego, arrogance, and inhuman instincts at bay, forever."

"Reality isn't as easy to handle, Mrinalini. You have barely had any interaction with the real world out there," he stated quietly.

"Perhaps I haven't had any experience yet, but my life has just begun, hasn't it?" she asked, her lips stretching into a soft smile.

He nodded and asked hesitantly, "What does that imply?"

"I'll let you know through my Uncle," she said walked away, inside her room, leaving him alone on the balcony.

...

15th August 2017

Mrinalini's point of view:

I was feeling like I would pass out and sink to the floor. I had been nervous all this while and that had refrained me from realizing the aftermath of fasting the entire day, but I began feeling hungry during the sampradan. 

I don't remember any of the rituals after Jethu had tied my hand and his together, which signifies that he is handing over my responsibility to my husband. Henceforth, he is the one who is supposed to help me and ostensibly guides me and takes decisions for me. In return even I would become his companion and will have to stand by him through thick and thin, but when does the society stop and bother to acknowledge us, women? 

I am supposed to leave my Uncle's house to shift to my husband's place... neither of the two places is referred to as 'my home' by anyone.

It had never crossed my mind before, how significant or how logical the wedding rituals are. Most of the weddings that I have attended in the neighbourhood have only been for the sake of eating free food. This may sound low standard and cheap to most people, but that's the reality. Most neighbours who participate in all ceremonies and help with the preparations, usually do it cost-free, but everyone looks forward to food for free!

Why do the bride and groom fast anyway? I am so annoyed at my friends and the other guests at the moment. While two starving people are sweating in front of the ceremonious pyre, they are standing right behind us and discussing which dish suited their palate the best. I am feeling nervous, tired, hungry and butterflies and mice are running together in my stomach. 

The box of vermilion sits a few feet away, waiting to be used at the right moment. The bright red powder seems to be staring at me, hard. I can't help but wonder if it is challenging me, but then I ask myself if married life is a fight. The vermilion looks like it knows what my future holds. I feel my already parched throat drying further as I gulped, in fear, in anticipation. 

The priest took that moment to ask the two of us to stand up for kusumdinge and Saptapadi. 

SAPTAPADI- The saptapadi in Bengali weddings is quite different from what is popular ("phere") in many other parts of India. There are seven betel leaves laid out in a sequence. The bride steps on these leave one by one followed by the groom. The groom moves a special stone "Nora" (typically used for crushing and pasting spices) with his foot as they move forward

KUSUMDINGE- An offering to the fire is made. The bride's brother puts puffed rice (Khoi) in the hands of the bride, and the groom standing close to her holds her hands from the back and extends their arms forward. They then pour the offering into the fire together.

TEXT CREDIT: wikipedia.org

 I took Dadabhai's help to stand up. My legs had practically lost all sensation from the consistent cross-legged sitting. Debarghya's stole was tied to my veil and the priest instructed the two of us and we followed accordingly. The Sanskrit chants were way beyond my understanding and I was as good as a wound-up toy silently doing what I was instructed to. My pulse rate quickened at each step that I took. I was suddenly realizing that... the wedding ceremony was about to conclude soon. 

I was beginning to discern the entire scenario. I was beginning to come to terms with everything; the fact that my residence would no longer be the one-story house in Entally, whose East facing room was occupied by me and Ma. The surname I would be using would be different from my maiden name. Everything would soon change after he puts vermilion in my parting. I would have to change when he does that... I can no longer be careless and fun-loving. From having no other worry apart from my academics and examinations, I would suddenly have so much responsibility.

The Saptapadi concluded whilst my mind was deeply immersed in all kinds of thoughts. We stepped in front of the fire and my aunt handed me a winnow with puffed rice. Debarghya took hold of my hands from behind, gently and I shivered at the contact. 

Dadabhai was right in front of me, participating in this particular rite, fulfilling his duty as my brother. He looked up at me and I could sense his inner turmoil from the way he clenched his fist. It is an odd habit that he has had ever since we were young. His nervousness, anger, and anxiety; this is how he concealed his emotions.

After the kusumdinge concluded, the priest asked us to take our places beside one another. It was finally the time for the final rite; the sindoordaan. My palms became clammy and I exhaled audibly, taking deep breaths to comfort my erratic heart. My brain was travelling the length and breadth of the earth and my thoughts were running hither tither. I could make out that the priest was telling something to Debarghya, but I never paid attention to his words. My eyes silently followed his movements, the rest of my body simply went numb and immobile.

...His hand reached to fill my parting with vermilion.

My heart thumped against my ribs and goosebumps appeared miraculously on my arms. I looked up, my eyes searching for my mother... but she had retreated inside the room after adjusting the red veil on my head and kissing me on the forehead. I could see my uncle who had a smile on his face and my older cousin brother was greeting some random guest. My aunt was balancing the gift boxes in her hand while my grandmother waited patiently, sitting in her chair, for the rituals to get over.

And then even before I could comprehend, there was sindoor in my parting, some of it falling on my nose and another veil was draped on my head. My eyes lowered their gaze almost instinctively. The conch and coral bangles on my wrists, the heavy wedding garland around my neck, and the sound of conch blowing and my college friends hooting in the background; made my mind go blank for a moment.

I felt the stare of my 'husband' on me and then it dawned upon me; the sanctity of the bangles, the significance of the vermilion, the implication of the two veils on my head... I was married now! No longer Ms Debnath... I have two families now. I have the love and responsibility of two households. I have a husband now.

And just like that, with a pinch of vermilion, a girl metamorphosed into a woman. Her maiden name was forgotten and her immature self put to sleep.

...

To be continued...

PUBLISHED ON: 1st June 2020

Author's note:

Hello everyone. I hope all of you are doing well and are safe. Take care of yourselves and your families.

Love,

Shubhadittya

P.S. If you are liking Mrinalini's story/ have suggestions, then please do take the time to share your views with me. 

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