Dear Husband,

You took my hand in yours and guided me home,

your family; I was asked to accept as my own.

I stepped inside your home, walked into a new life,

I got new responsibilities and duties, as your wife.

Love is something you promised to shower,

Care is something you and I must, for one another.

The room that you and I share contains more than the bed,

it contains your tears and mine, it contains our secrets.

There is more that I desire from you than just love,

respect isn't something I demand but deserve.

Some years await you and me,

And I hope we'll make memories that could be cherished.

I promise to be there by your side, 

a promise I hope to uphold till the day I die.

Be there for me, help me fulfill those dreams,

light up my life, please let there be a breeze.

The journey has just begun, the future's obscure,

harvest trust in me, so all challenges we can endure...

-Elegiac_Damsel

_______

16th August 

Third person's point of view:

"Mrinalini, we are home," Debarghya informed his bride, who had been preoccupied with the raindrops on the window of the car. 

She seemed lost at his words and it took her a while to absorb his words and reply.

"Home?" Mrinalini asked weakly, her hand unknowingly tightening around her gacchkouto

Gachhkouto- a red pot filled with vermilion and a single silver coin. Is carried by a new bride into her in-laws' house as a symbol of Goddess Lakshmi; the Goddess of wealth and prosperity

"Yes, Boudi. Come on out now. Ma has given us clear instructions to get you here before sundown. It is already late. We need to proceed." Anumegha told her sister-in-law urgently

Nodding slightly, Mrinalini stepped out of the car, upraising her sari a bit to avoid wetting it. The ground was wet and muddy from the puddles that had formed due to rain. Lifting her gaze, she stole a quick, curious glance at the building that was to become her new home.

The building was a typical, old North Kolkata one, complete with elaborate balconies and French-style windows. The structure was nostalgic and complemented the British architecture that was predominant on this side of the city. The building though recently repainted had specks of moss and growing creepers that were apparent even from a distance, elucidating on its senescence.

Mrinalini would have gladly spent some time taking in the features of her new residence, but then something caught her attention; the presence of children at the windows and the elderly on the balconies; all of them peeking out to take a look at the new bride in the neighbourhood. She felt nervous, conscious, and intimidated at the unexpected and unaccustomed attention that her arrival had grabbed from all the expectant spectators. She lowered her gaze instinctively and reached out to hold her sister-in-law's arm. 

"Why is everyone looking at me like that?" she asked her in a low tone

"Because you are the new bride. The children are excited at the prospect of playing with you and the others want to see how you are. Anyways, the building is three stories high and we are on the top floor. There are two flats on each floor. The terrace is always open for you to use. But please hurry up now. We barely have an hour till sundown." she explained

Mrinalini nodded and they made their way up the stairs. With each step that she took, Mrinalini felt her heart becoming heavier. A part of her felt that she did not belong to the 'home' that she was now required to live in henceforth. The unfamiliar landings, unknown neighbours, new family members, a new bed; in short, an absolutely new life that she knew nothing about.... it was becoming more and more overwhelming. 

The bride, the groom, and the two siblings eventually reached the top floor where an entire swarm of married women was waiting. They had come to help Debarghya's widowed mother, Debjani with the rituals and welcome ceremony for the new bride. Mrinalini was escorted to the front door of the flat and there she saw her mother-in-law for the first time.

Clad in an off-white and pink bordered sari with light embroidery, supported by a woman, she looked elegant and aristocratic. She held a borondala in her hand and her lips eased into a smile when she looked at her elder son's bride for the first time. She had been looking forward to meeting the young woman for a long time. 

Borondala

The Boron is done to welcome the newly wedded couple at home. The groom's mother traditionally performs this particular ritual symbolizing her acceptance of the bride as her daughter-in-law and as a part of her family.

Circling the borondala vertically around her son and his bride, she welcomed the couple. The women from the neighbourhood blew their conch shells and ululated in the background as was the traditional norm. 

Mrinalini waited patiently, her gaze fixated at the ground where someone had drawn a beautiful Alpana( traditional designs drawn on the ground in white and red colours). She felt anxious at the elaborate arrangements that had been made to welcome her. 

"New bride, now step into the plate of doodh Alta and walk inside leaving your foot imprints on the white sari," one of the many women instructed her.

It was at that moment that Mrinalini noticed an emulsion of red lac dye(Alta) and milk in a brass plate that had been placed right in front of her. The reddish-pink emulsion reflected her adorned face. It was like it was telling the new bride that once she crossed the threshold and walked inside, with her Alta-laden feet, there would be no turning back.

It took her a few seconds to move her feet and dip them into the emulsion. And then amidst the sound of conch shells being blown in unison and the excited cheers from kids around, the young bride crossed the threshold and walked inside her new home; stepping into her new life.

...

After the basic welcome ceremony had been done, Debjani led her elder son and daughter-in-law into her bedroom where a small marble temple housed the idols of deities. She took the gachhkouto from Mrinalini and kept it in front of Goddess Lakshmi's picture. 

"Welcome to the family, child. We do not have a separate room for worship, but this room doubles up as my bedroom as well as the worship room. Since you are the new bride, I brought you here as is the tradition. Just remember that in case you ever feel helpless or lost, God will always be there to guide you. Begin your new life with the Almighty's blessings." Debjani told Mrinalini

Nodding blindly, Mrinalini joined her hands, closed her eyes, and muttered almost inaudibly, "Please just give me strength to live here. I don't know what the future heralds for me, I'll simply ask you to not let go of me."

Debjani smiled at the young bride who seemed to have been intimidated by everyone around. The small, cosy 900 square feet 2 B.H.K. flat seemed so very crowded with all the neighbours and a few relatives. Nodding to her daughter, who fetched a couple of velvet jewellery boxes from her mother's safe, she took help from her younger son and took a seat on her bed. 

Beckoning Mrinalini to come closer, she reached out to hold her daughter-in-law's left wrist. 

"I am slipping this noa onto your left wrist as a sign of my acceptance and blessing. You are a part of this family and the elder daughter-in-law of this household. Never remove this under any circumstance. May you have a blessed life as a married woman." Debjani spoke to Mrinalini while making her wear the noa. She smiled and placed a gentle hand on her daughter-in-law's head in blessing.

Noa- an iron bangle worn by married women on their left wrist. Is often gold plated. Never removed traditionally.

Reaching out to the second jewellery box, Debjani removed two gold bangles and effortlessly slipped them onto Mrinalini's wrists.

"These originally belonged to my mother-in-law. She gave them to me when I got married. I now pass them to my elder son's bride i.e., you." 

"Ma, are you not keeping anything for me?" Anumegha asked her mother. The edge in her tone did not miss Mrinalini, but she did not comment. She could somehow relate to her sister-in-law's insecurities. Her aunt had also stowed away the heavier bangles for her brother's bride and as the daughter of the family, she had merely received her grandmother's thin bangles that were made of hollow gold. Family heirlooms usually were passed on to the son's family...

Debjani smiled at her daughter and replied, "You are my only daughter, how can I not? I have jewellery for your wedding and your younger brother's bride too."

"I am yet to pass college, Ma." Debrishi retorted and that lightened the mood. Mrinalini smiled weakly, not knowing if she was welcome to share a laugh with her in-laws.

"Bouma (daughter-in-law)..." Debjani addressed Mrinalini who was initially lost because of the odd, new name that had been used for calling her

"Yes Ma?" she asked timidly, forcing herself to call her mother-in-law Ma. It seemed totally alien and she was kind of repulsed by the idea of calling someone else by the same name as her mother. Sadly, no one would bother to know what she felt about all this. This was something expected of every Indian bride and Mrinalini was no exception.

"Come to the kitchen with me," she told her daughter-in-law

Nodding Mrinalini stood up and held out an arm for her mother-in-law to take. Debjani was greatly surprised by the helpful gesture and she accepted her daughter-in-law's hand.

Leaving the men and boys, Debjani, Anumegha, Mrinalini, and two other women made their way into the kitchen. 

There, Debjani uncovered a few dishes and containers that had been filled to the brim with food and grains respectively. She kept a jug of water in front of Mrinalini and then turned to ask her, "Tell me, child. What do you see?"

The question would seem utterly illogical and irrelevant to most outsiders and even new brides, but Rai had intimated her daughter earlier about this ritual. Recalling her mother's advice, Mrinalini skimmed her eyes over all the dishes and containers that had been kept in front of her, and replied, "Everything is filled to the brim."

Satisfied and impressed by the young bride's reply, Debjani smiled a genuine smile. She had not really expected the 21-year-old girl to answer correctly. 

"Correct. Everything is filled to the brim. And just as every dish, every container, and every canister is filled with food, grain, and essentials today, it is now your responsibility to ensure that this kitchen never runs out of food and that this household always prospers. This kitchen is yours now. Never let it run out of grains."

Mrinalini felt like someone had placed a boulder on her shoulders. She had always known that marriage would bring forth responsibilities, but having someone being vocal about all expectations and duties was particularly cautionary. She managed to nod and smile in an irresolute manner. 

"Now, your sister-in-law will take you back to my room. You will have to be there till tomorrow morning. Don't step out because it is your Kalratri and you can't see my son's face tonight. We'll serve you dinner in there only. I will be there in a short while. And the women from the neighbourhood may just drop in to make your acquaintance. You will be okay?" Debjani asked Mrinalini

"Yes, Ma. I will be fine," she replied in a firm yet polite manner

...

Flashback:

June

It was a lazy, rainy afternoon in the City of Joy when Mrinalini was lying on her bed. Rai was mending one of her blouses, leaning against the headrest. A day had passed since Mrinalini had yielded to her Uncle's wishes. Her grandmother and brother had initially been displeased at her impulsive decision, but after some thought, the two of them were convinced that Mrinalini would never really get any happiness in the household because Barun and Srishti would have surely been outraged at her insolence.

Rai had been silent throughout and the search for the right groom had just commenced.

"Ma, I agreed like you wanted me to, but I don't think I am ready to marry. I have no idea as to what happens after marriage... What will I need to do then?" Mrinalini asked her mother, relieving her burdened mind

Rai drew the needle and bit off the thread before turning to her inquisitive daughter.

"Honestly Mini, you will have to learn with the years. With the little time we have on our hands, I can just teach you the basics. You will have to learn how to cook and take responsibility of your own things. There will be no one there to find you your books." 

"Cooking? I barely know how to make rice, instant noodles, and tea or coffee, Ma. Will there be no one else who can do the cooking? I have to do my masters too, right?" she asked Rai anxiously

Smiling at her daughter, Rai placed a hand on her daughter's head and ran her fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp soothingly.

"My Mini will have a family. She needs to learn everything. No one can study on your behalf and write the examination, sweetheart. The new home, the new family; everything will be your responsibility. You tell me if you want to eat anything, who'll cook it for you?" Rai asked her daughter who contemplated on her mother's words for a while

"When I want to eat anything here, you cook it for me."

"And who cooks me my favourite dish?" Rai asked Mrinalini

"Ma... you cook your own food... You... have a favourite dish....?" she asked stuttering. Over the years, no one in the household had stopped to ask Rai what her favourite dish was. No one cooked her anything. It had always been Rai who catered to other's wishes, with the years she had almost obliterated her own desires and wishes.

"Right. I am the one who cooks my own food. This family, this household, the kitchen... it is all my responsibility. I know what your favourite dish is and I cook that for you, but Ma cannot be there Mini." Rai explained lovingly

Mrinalini was in a way embarrassed and ashamed at the fact that she had never really stopped to ask her mother about her likes and dislikes. Cards on Mother's Day and buying her a bar of chocolate or two once in a while could never equal what her mother had done for her all these years. Did the same await her in the future?

"From tomorrow, I will teach you how to cook simple dishes. You'll help me in the kitchen and learn it all." Rai told her daughter while stowing away her sewing kit

"But, Ma... I'll be marrying and going away. Shouldn't you be the one to cook me all my favourite dishes?" Mrinalini asked her mother, with glossy eyes and a heavy voice

Rai smiled and bent to kiss her daughter on the top of her head, "It is my duty to prepare my daughter for the world. Let me first fulfil my duty, after that my maternal affection and love will cook you all your favourite dishes in the last week before your wedding."

"Why is the kitchen always the woman's responsibility, Ma?" Mrinalini asked her mother one last question

Rai did not answer her daughter's query. She simply patted Mini's cheek in response before scurrying off to the kitchen to prepare tea for the family members...

*

"Boudi, the women from the neighbourhood want to meet you..." Anumegha's cheerful voice broke Mrinalini's reverie

She looked up, dazed, and joined her hands respectfully at the women who had entered the room after her sister-in-law.

They began talking all at once, introducing themselves and telling the new bride which floor they lived on. Mrinalini was confused but chose to conceal it behind her smile. How can one be expected to memorize all the names in such little time?

A few of the women tried to estimate her family's economic status, judging by the amount and type of gold that Mrinalini had on. Two of them touched her necklace and praised the piece of jewellery which made her feel uncomfortable. Someone asked her with an extra sweet, diabetic smile, which jewellery shop her earrings had been purchased from. She replied awkwardly about not knowing anything.

Her mother-in-law's arrival came as a relief to her as Debjani entered the bedroom with her sisters-in-law who were eager to meet the new bride.

"Bouma, they are your husband's father's sisters i.e., my sisters-in-law and you must address them as Pishi(paternal aunt)." Debjani introduced them to Mrinalini

Smiling in greeting, Mrinalini reached to seek their blessings by touching their feet. The older woman nodded approvingly.

"Your daughter-in-law has been taught well. She sure is beautiful and seems cultured too." the younger woman commented

Mrinalini chose to be silent. She utterly despised this kind of demeaning and taunting discussion, but then her mother's words refrained her from protesting.

"...Just remember one thing; you must always think twice about what you do and the words you speak. What you say and do, would directly represent me and your upbringing...."

"New bride, what is your name? How old are you?" the older woman asked

"Mrinalini. I am 21 years old."

"What was your surname before marriage?" the younger aunt asked Mrinalini

"Debnath."

The younger aunt looked at her older sister who nodded and stated, "At least you belong to the same caste."

Mrinalini clenched her fist and bit her lower lip. She felt tears well up in her eyes as their comments seemed anything but welcoming. Home? Family? Why was her caste so important? Would they not accept her had she been from a lower caste and different sect?

"Did you pray to Lord Narayan in your home?"

Mrinalini nodded silently and from the corner of her eye, she saw the two sisters exchange glances. She knew exactly what that meant. They were simply satisfied and relieved that their sects were the same. 

Mrinalini had not bothered to make any inquiries related to caste, creed, or sect. Somehow, she was convinced that her Uncle and aunt would never really consider any proposal from anyone who failed to fulfil their criteria. She was right about it all, they had indeed made all the orthodox inquiries.

"Your son has made the right choice. She is beautiful too. Welcome to the family, new bride." the older aunt finally exclaimed, smiling at Mrinalini

Debjani nodded at her sister-in-law's approval. The marriage had been quite impromptu and it was a relief that her son's choice had been able to impress the elder family members. It wouldn't really matter later when they would live in different homes, but it was essential at the moment, to ensure the smooth proceeding of all the remaining rituals and ceremonies.

The evening was uneventful. Random women and children dropped in once in a while to meet the bride, who was immensely fatigued due to the emotional strain that the day had brought along. Changing her residence, bidding farewell, meeting new family members and neighbours... it had drained her out. 

...

That night, Mrinalini couldn't fall asleep. Settled on the bed beside her mother-in-law, her pillow was testimony to her uncontrollable grief and pain; the pain she felt at being separated from the protective embrace of her mother and the familiar surroundings of her home...

This was home now...

...

17th August

The day was a busy one with the traditional ceremonies. They had the wedding reception in the evening at a banquet hall nearby. Relatives, neighbours, Debarghya's office colleagues, friends poured in and Mrinalini eventually became tired of smiling, greeting, and thanking everyone. The photographer made her pose in different angles, alone and with her husband. It felt so ridiculous and annoying! For the first time, she realized that weddings and functions are not always fun.

 The only thing she was looking forward to was the arrival of her family members. Mrinalini was relieved and happy to meet her mother and the rest of the family. Abhrajit bid farewell to his sister, late at night. He was scheduled to fly to the U.K. on the 19th. Mrinalini digested the news that she would have to go months or even years before meeting him again. Rai fought her tears when she said goodbye. Her daughter's marital life was finally going to begin... and all she could do was pray and hope for the best.

After a tiring evening, Mrinalini was led into her husband's room at night. Her sister-in-law and one of the neighbours had helped her change into a fresh sari and had decked her up in floral jewellery. The room and bed had been decorated beautifully with fragrant flowers.

The realization dawned upon Mrinalini then, this was the room she would have to live in now; a room that she would share with a man who was almost a stranger... her husband.

...

To be continued...

PUBLISHED ON: 9th June 2020

GLOSSARY- 

Kalratri- inspired by the folk tale of Behula Lokkhindor, Bengalis have always considered it inauspicious for the bride and groom to sleep together on the very first night in the bride's new home. Hence, brides and their husbands are separated on that night. Many believe that it is an excuse to ensure that the married couple gets enough rest and becomes rejuvenated for the next day's festivities.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

This chapter gave me some trouble while writing and I am genuinely apologetic if you find this not worth reading. PLEASE DO NOT THROW ROTTEN EGGS AND TOMATOES AT ME.

I promise I'll try to write better from the next chapter.

That being said, I hope you all are keeping well and safe. Take care and stay safe.

With love, 

Shubhadittya

P.S. if you like this story, then please do VOTE, COMMENT, and SHARE