DEDICATED TO: kirthiquack HopeleesssBookworm

"Just as the blissful dawn announces the beginning of the day, the completion of a wedding simply flags off the journey called marriage."

-Elegiac_Damsel

______

18th August 

Third person's point of view:

The dawn that day wasn't marked by the usual golden rays of the sun. Instead, a dreary sky accentuated with dark clouds greeted the early risers. The air was breezy and the rain descended happily on the City of Joy. Amateur football players skidded on the wet and slippery green grass of Maidan while fitness enthusiasts walked along the stretch beside the acres of greenery. Some of them clutched umbrellas in their hands, attempting to shield their head from the rain. A few school kids who had morning school held on to the hands of their guardians as they walked to their respective bus stops, clad in raincoats, jumping over muddy puddles of water, pausing to check on a slimy frog or two.

The early morning breeze caused the wind chime in the bedroom to tintinnabulate. Mrinalini was the first one to wake up. She was late, late by her standards. The girl who usually woke up at dawn, by 5 a.m. every morning, rose at 6 that morning. The extra sleep had been much needed after the fatigue that had accumulated and enhanced over the last three days. She was at first dazed when the unfamiliar whitewashed ceiling stared back at her still sleep-laden eyes. She was lost for a moment, forgetting that she was in a new home altogether. A sudden movement that caused the duvet to shift away from her, made her turn to her left. 

Debarghya was asleep there, next to her. He was cold or so it seemed from the way his fist clutched at the end of the duvet which had been pulled up to his chin. 

Mrinalini abruptly got up from bed. The first thought that came to her mind was, 'So the marriage had been real'.

Waking up unceremoniously like any other day, she had initially thought that she was back in the one-story house in Entally, laying next to Rai. In reality, however, she was 7 kilometers away, in the same city, in a different home, laying next to the man to who she had been married.

She turned to check the time on the wall clock. She wasn't really bothered about waking up late, it was understood and accepted that her body desired some rest. She was quick to grab the duffel bag containing her toiletries and a towel, which had been brought to the room along with her suitcase. She would have to unpack after freshening up, for her clothes and then arrange them later during the day.

Mrinalini took precisely 15 minutes to brush her teeth, splash adequate water on her face, and select a sari that she could wear. 

The sari that she chose was semi silk and cotton one; 6 yards of handwoven fabric.

 It originally belonged to Rai. A red printed border, bright colors were considered inappropriate for widows. The sari was one of many; those which had been destined to remain confined to a shut trunk, for almost two decades. Now that Mrinalini was married, she had been given her mother's saris, several of them unused, unworn, and new, yet old, with age.

Mrinalini took 30 minutes in the shower, to pamper herself and to relax her muscles. She would have preferred some warm water, but the geyser had apparently given up. She shampooed her waist-length hair, taking her time to remove the stale stench of sweat. She took her time to remove the tangles that had appeared because of the consistent pulled-up buns, the strings of flowers, and the veils. 

She wore her undergarments, blouse, and petticoat in the bathroom after drying herself. The towel had been used to secure her wet hair, to dry the excess water. She tried to drape the sari, but being new to the art of drapery and the clothing, it was impossible for her in the confined space. She needed numerous pins to help her pin the pleats in place and a mirror to aid her. She stepped out gingerly, tip-toeing into the room, peeking once at the sleeping form of her husband to confirm that he wasn't stirring.

Mrinalini draped the sari around herself with ease and panache, now that she had enough space. Her hands worked meticulously to make the pleats and then tucking them inside the petticoat, perpendicular to the plane of her navel. She pinned the free end of the sari on her left shoulder. 

Once she was satisfied with her attire, she began combing her hair, taking time with the annoying and stubborn knots. She parted her hair; the parting dead center to accommodate the thick streak of vermilion that marked her as a new bride. It felt strange and surreal. She took a pinch of vermilion from the new box that had been given to her after the wedding, and applied to her parting, for the first time. Her hand reached out to remove a strip of sticker dots (bindis) from her duffel bag. She was no stranger to dots that were traditionally worn or applied on the forehead, to represent the mythical third eye. Her mother had always applied a black dot on her forehead, throughout her childhood, and even as a college student, her attire had never been complete without a minuscule black sticker dot. The only difference this time was that the new strip of sticker dots contained red ones. 

Red- to signify and uphold the sanctity and auspiciousness of her marriage. To distinguish her as a married woman.

Mrinalini left her hair down, to dry. She proceeded to arrange her cosmetics and vanity items that she required on a pretty regular basis, on the dressing table beside Debarghya's things. 

It was only after she was done with everything did she remember her conch and coral bangles. She would have to wear them for a week or so at least. She opened the wardrobe door to retrieve the requisite jewelry from the drawer. 

It was at the creaking sound of the old wardrobe door that Debarghya stirred awake. He was disoriented at the unexpected noise. He had initially thought that it was his younger brother who he had been sharing his room with, for the past week. He sat up in bed and it was only when he saw Mrinalini rolling the two sets of bangles on her wrists, her back towards him, did he remember that he had been married and that the room was now theirs and not just his.

Meanwhile, Mrinalini shut the wardrobe door and turned to leave the room. She came face to face with Debarghya who had just got up and was straightening the sheets. For a moment, neither knew what they were supposed to say to one another.

Deciding to keep it simple he spoke up, "Good morning."

Mrinalini was initially taken aback at the formal greeting. He sounded like a schoolboy wishing a teacher! She decided to wish back but then she ended up blurting out what she had been meaning to tell him later, "The geyser isn't in working condition."

Debarghya grimaced, displeasure and annoyance visible on his face.

"There were many relatives and neighbors who had been hogging over the household for the past week. They may have used it beyond its capacity." he justified, "I'll give you the electrician's contact details. You can get him to repair it later during the day."

"I don't know the address of our home yet. How do I direct him here?" 

"I'll write it down somewhere along with the emergency contacts, for your convenience," he told her.

There was a small silence that followed.

"You said you had work and are supposed to leave by 8.30. It is already 7.15." Mrinalini found herself reminding him

"You seem to be quite eager to get me out of home, Mrinal," he stated with a smile.

"No. I just like punctuality. No exceptions," she replied, justifying. "I'll leave now."

Debarghya nodded and proceeded to go about his own schedule. It was time to get back to work. 

...

Mrinalini walked out of the bedroom to discover her sister-in-law watching yogic postures on the television. 

Anumegha was almost half asleep on the sofa. The kohl from the previous evening had obviously smudged and stained her eyelids, giving her a sick look and it did not seem like she was engaged in performing any yoga.

"Good morning." Mrinalini greeted her, with a smile

"Good morning Boudi. How did you find the energy to get out of bed so soon?" her sister-in-law asked, stifling a yawn

"Had to drag me out of bed, just like you. Interested in yoga?" she asked casually

Anumegha opened her eyes completely at the question, "Yes. Have been trying to lose weight lately. With Dada's wedding and everything, I got out of practice and habit. Ma wanted you to go to her room by the way."

Mrinalini nodded at the message and made her way into her mother-in-law's room. 

Debjani was seated on a low chair facing the marble temple. She beckoned Mrinalini to come closer.

"Child, I have not been able to touch vermilion for the past 9 years. There wasn't anyone to apply vermilion to Goddess Lakshmi's image. Now that you are here, I would expect you to do that every morning during worship." Debjani told her daughter-in-law

"Ma, I was never allowed to touch vermilion during worship. It was always Jethima who applied the vermilion there." Mrinalini replied

Debjani smiled, "That was because you weren't married then. Unmarried girls don't apply vermilion. Only married ones do. Widows don't either. This has always been the rule."

Somehow, Mrinalini was reminded of her own mother. Rai's inability to perform rituals during her wedding, the strict rules that her mother-in-law had to follow, and the lack of color in their lives; both women were victims of the prejudiced, patriarchal society. 

For the first time since she had met the woman, Mrinalini found a thread that connected her to her mother-in-law; a vague thread that exceeded marital obligations. 

"Ma," she called out, "I have never performed all the rituals before. I used to simply help Thamma when she would need something."

"You'll learn everything with time. For now, just ensure that you don't eat before the daily worship." Debjani stated

Mrinalini nodded and listened to her mother-in-law's instructions about how God has to be worshiped daily and the traditional rules that every married woman must follow on Thursdays. Debjani told Mrinalini told her a few instances from her own marriage that made the new bride a bit comfortable and less wary about messing up. 

It was almost 8.15 when Mrinalini helped her mother-in-law walk into the living room. Her younger brother-in-law was leaving for his hostel in Kharagpur. Anumegha had college from noon and was skimming through her books lazily. Debarghya had had his breakfast along with his siblings and had returned to their bedroom to get ready for work. 

She slipped away when no one was noticing, to their bedroom to speak to him.

Debarghya was engrossed in tying a double Winston knot when she entered. The collars of his formal shirt were raised and a silk tie was around his neck. He raised his eyebrows inquisitively when he saw Mrinalini approaching, through the reflection in the mirror. 

"I don't have your phone number. How do I contact you in case of any emergency?" she asked him hesitantly

Debarghya finishing knotting his tie and ran a final check on the buttons of his shirt and his belt buckle. He checked if his shirt was tucked into his trousers properly before replying, "There is a small piece of cardboard next to the landline telephone. It has my number and Brishti's. Ma has an awful memory when it comes to phone numbers."

Mrinalini nodded.

"Have a good day, Arghya," she told him softly before exiting the room.

...

Mrinalini took the day to unpack her clothes and other belongings. She arranged everything properly in the wardrobe. New saris and old ones, two pairs of casual denim, short-length kurtas that she would wear to college, a few leggings, and a few tops that she had purchased with her friends from New Market. She cleared a spare drawer and made space for her undergarments and handkerchiefs. 

While arranging her clothes, Mrinalini came across a few packs of cigarettes and a lighter. Feeling a sudden childlike curiosity, she removed a cigarette and tried holding it in between her fingers like she had seen other men and women do, on the pavements and roads, while smoking. She turned the cigarette packet this way and that, disturbed by the images of malignant body organs and the warning printed all over, 'SMOKING KILLS'.

"Why on earth do people sell this? It is like handing over a loaded gun and then warning the handler that the bullets have the ability to kill," she asked herself, restoring the packs to their original place. An impulsive thought of throwing them away had crossed her mind, but she refrained from doing something that would incite a sour situation between Debarghya and herself. They would have to talk about it later.

There was no space for her books in the wardrobe. It was stashed now, with their clothes and personal belongings. She walked into the living room and a cabinet that she had not seen earlier, came to her notice. 

The cabinet contained books; fiction and non-fiction. Mrinalini's face lit up in glee. She enthusiastically made space for her own books and arranged them one by one. All this took her time and by the time she was done, it was past 1 in the afternoon. 

Debjani had arranged for a simple lunch comprising some rice, lentils, and boiled vegetables. The two of them were silent during the meal. Mrinalini eventually got tired of the silence and asked her mother-in-law if she could prepare dinner. 

"You know how to cook?" Debjani had asked her daughter-in-law.

"I recently learned. Ma... taught me the basics. She told me that I would learn more, with time." 

"This was unexpected. From what your uncle and my son told me, I could decipher that you were utterly unprepared for marriage. Not to forget that you are young and goal-oriented. Had you been a few years older, it could have been expected of you." she commented bluntly. There was neither malice nor bitterness in her tone; it was simply surprising and a strange obscenity. 

Mrinalini did not comment. She finished off her meal and got up from the dining table after acknowledging Debjani. She lifted the used plate, carried it into the kitchen, and rinsed it in the sink so that it could be easily cleaned later. 

...

It was twilight. 

The rain had stopped momentarily. Mrinalini had gone up the stairs for a stroll on the terrace. The gentle breeze brushed the locks of her hair that had escaped while braiding. 

She took her time to look at the surrounding buildings, getting acquainted with her new home and neighborhood. She walked cautiously on the mossy concrete floor of the terrace, stood leaning over the ledge, looking at the labyrinth of narrow avenues and old buildings. She saw girls dressed in cotton salwar and kurtas, with their stoles tied around their waists, the ghungroos on their feet making jingling sounds as they walked to or from their classical dance classes. The young boys in the neighborhood were playing cricket, the ball rolling under cars or into puddles of water once in a while. Mrinalini smiled peacefully as she heard the keys of a harmonium playing one of her favorite Tagore compositions, the music clearly being played by an amateur. The voice of an 11th grader rehearsing the periodic table caught her attention, reminding her of her high school days. 

The sound of a blowing conch shell let her know that it was evening. The bells in a nearby Kali temple chimed rhythmically as the citizens geared up for the evening worship. It began drizzling when Mrinalini descended the steps and returned home.

After the saanjhbati (evening worship), Mrinalini chose to enter the kitchen to make dinner. She had asked her mother-in-law about their eating habits, the usual queries; rice or bread, the amount of spice that could be tolerated etcetera.

It took her more time than she had anticipated. Given the new kitchen, the new cabinets and canisters, and the absence of Rai's guidance flustered her. She was able to cook the vegetables and lentils with ease, but scrounging for the right spices, salt and the basic ingredients on the shelves was utterly time-consuming. 

At night when she served the dinner, her face and ears turned red in embarrassment at the crooked chapatis that she had rolled out in hurry. Anumegha lifted the bread and looked at it with a questioning gaze.

"You are new to cooking," she stated.

"At least she knows how to make something that isn't boiled water or tea," Debarghya spoke up in defense before Mrinalini could say anything.

Anumegha looked at her brother with a disbelieving gaze, "I eat and appreciate the food. That is the greatest compliment for the person cooking!  And isn't this too soon for you to defend your young wife?"

Mrinalini spoke up justifying while serving herself, "I am new to cooking and since the kitchen was new, it took me more time. I rolled out the dough very late and in a hurry."

The rest of the meal passed peacefully with the two siblings making small talk. Mrinalini joined in when she was asked something. The people sitting at the same table as she were still strangers and it would obviously take time for her to laugh freely at any joke or to share her opinion regarding something. 

Post dinner, Debjani, and Anumegha retired into their room and Mrinalini and Debarghya returned to theirs. Mrinalini went of to freshen up and change while Debarghya grabbed a cigarette for a smoke in the balcony.

When Mrinalini returned, ready for bed, a new smartphone, a Samsung A3 that had been kept on her side of the bed caught her attention.

"Whose phone is this?" she asked her husband, walking into the balcony where he was smoking. The overwhelming smell of tobacco entered her nostrils and she began coughing and spluttering at the smoke.

Debarghya stubbed the lit cigarette under his feet, extinguishing it, and motioned Mrinalini to get back inside.

...

"This phone is yours. I got you a new SIM card too. Your brother told me that you did not have a phone of your own and that you used the landline or his phone on most occasions," he told her later after he had changed and the two of them had retired to bed.

"Dadabhai told you? When did he tell you?" she asked him disbelievingly

"On the night of our wedding reception. The two of us had exited the hall at the same time for a smoke and..."

Mrinalini interrupted, "Dadabhai doesn't smoke."

Debarghya raised his eyebrows and remarked, "Try saying that to someone who has not seen him take a drag."

She brushed it off, changing the topic abruptly, "Thank you for the phone."

"It is second hand." he spoke out all of a sudden, "It used to belong to my senior's daughter."

Mrinalini shrugged and smiled, "I don't mind. As long as it works smoothly, it doesn't matter."

A brief silence followed as she adjusted the pillow and rested her head on it, comfortably.

"I said I would speak to you about your college and other things." he reminded his wife

Mrinalini turned to face him.

Debarghya took a deep breath. His forehead was creased and anyone could make out that he was worried.

"I earn Rs. 40000 per month. Apart from this, I get certain expenses and allowances. I will give you a small breakup of the amount of money that is spent every month."

Mrinalini did not comment on the amount that he mentioned. She came from a family where her Uncle had been the sole breadwinner with 6 mouths to be fed. Abhrajeet had begun earning quite recently. The family had run on his modest earnings and there had been enough for their requirement.

"Rs. 7000 per month as E.M.I. is deducted from my salary account on every third date of a month. I have been saving Rs. 10000 per month for the past 3 years, for Brishti's wedding. She is getting married next year, in April. Ma's medicines and treatment cost about 5000 per month. I have to pay her college fees and Rishi's too, every three months, so I transfer a requisite amount into another account every month. The remaining amount is used for all the household expenses like the maidservant, electricity, maintenance, cooking gas, grocery, etc." he continued speaking to Mrinalini, whose eyes were widening with each sentence that he spoke. Rs. 40000 was a huge amount for an unemployed girl who had barely graduated a month ago. It was appalling how quickly the money was spent.

"Needless to say, you may be able to make out that my hands are quite full at the moment. I cannot afford your post-graduation fees. Next year, after Brishti's wedding and Rishi's graduation though, if things remain well, you can apply to one of the universities here." he told her, taking a close look at her face, in an attempt to read her expressions

Mrinalini thought for a minute and then spoke up, "Can I not try for some job now? The extra earnings would help and we can..."

"You are just a graduate, like me. You don't have several job options. If you join sales as I did, it would simply be your one-way ticket to an utterly ruthless part of the corporate world. You don't want to chase monthly targets as I do. Trust me, you don't want to have a job that has no security or certainty. Moreover, Ma can barely walk. We both cannot be out of the home for long hours." Debarghya told Mrinalini who listened with rapt attention, apprehension and queries still on her mind

Neither of them spoke for a while. Mrinalini absorbed his words and did some mental calculations. For the first time, she understood what significance every single bill held, in a middle-class household. Those shopping lists, records of expenditure, the saved up money in the wardrobe; it all made sense now. 

'Every penny counts, Mini.' 

Rai's words echoed in her eardrums. As a ten-year-old, Mrinalini had been given money by her mother to get some turmeric from the local store. She had spent the balance amount to treat herself to some candies without bothering to seek Rai's permission. Her mother had been upset at her deceit and she had been in for a scolding. The words made sense now. 

It took a great deal of labor and dedication to earn a rupee, but a single moment and a vain expense were all it would take, to lose your reward. 

"Where are you lost, Mrinal?" Debarghya's voice snapped her back to reality

She blinked and looked at the man who laid next to her, as he continued to speak, "You may be displeased with the idea of losing a year, but please trust me once. I may not be able to afford the fees at the moment but, I..."

Mrinalini's voice cut him off, mid-speech, "Smoking is injurious to health. You know and the cigarette pack warns you. Why do you still smoke?"

Thus, with bittersweet squabbles, little queries born out of budding love and concern, building trust, relevant financial discussions, and the gradual acceptance of one another's flaws, two strangers marked the beginning of their journey.

A journey called marriage; a journey from being strangers to companions, for life.

...

To be continued...

PUBLISHED ON: 22nd June

Author's note:

Hello everyone. SORRY FOR THE DELAY IN UPDATING! AND I AM GENUINELY SORRY IF THE STORY/ CHAPTER IS DISAPPOINTING.

My exams commence soon, so I cannot promise anything at the moment. I'll try to write and update as and when I can, but my future depends on the upcoming examinations.

Thank you for your support always.

I hope you all are well and safe. Do take care of yourselves and your families.

With love and best wishes,

Shubhadittya

P.S. Please do VOTE, COMMENT, and SHARE if you think Mrinalini and I are deserving enough.