If you remember the 80s, amongst other things, you
would remember the incidents of ‘burning of brides for dowry’. I remember
growing up listening to these reports ,reading titbits of gory details in the
newspapers and feeling uneasy about older cousins and acquaintance ‘didis’
getting married. I even remember the naïve me once commenting ‘why would I get
married? I don’t want to be burned to death!’ Oh don’t think I might have been
overthinking! When you grow up with someone and dance at their wedding and look
forward to them visiting their ‘maiyka’ ,any untoward incident involving them
at their in-laws place would do a number on you…
When I was
growing up, close to our home lived the Sharmas- Uncle, Aunty and Sandhya Didi and Nakul
Bhaiya. We all studied in the same school and Nakul Bhaiya was 8 years my
senior and Sandhya Didi was about 10 years senior to me. Although she was older yet she would sometimes hang out with us in the playground in the
evening. She would play badminton with us and Nakul Bhaiya and I on one side
would try to beat her on the other side. It was fun and sometimes the best part
of the day- laughing, running ,falling down, getting up and trying to beat her
at the game over and over. She rarely lost to the two of us put together.
A few years
later, she got married and we were all part of the wedding ceremonies- dancing,
laughing, crying but at the same time happy for her because she looked so
happy. A few days later she returned looking like a different person, our
Sandhya Didi – funny, smart, eversmiling Sandhya Didi was quiet and dull,
looked weak and tired. I was still too young to understand what was happening
but it was obvious that something was amiss. Nakul Bhaiya was in Bangalore by
then and I asked her to come out for a game of Badminton with me in the evening
but she declined. I remember wondering why she was so sad. I asked my mother
about it and she replied vaguely that Didi’s in-laws were harassing her for
dowry. ‘Dowry’-what does that word mean;I’ve wondered over the years… that the
grooms are for sale or that the lives of girls are of a lesser value than the
boys. However I look at it, I don’t find any logic in it. Having said
that, I know –we all know, that the practice of Dowry exists even today and
silently but surely girls , girls either known or unknown to us, are being
harassed, tortured and murdered for paltry sums of money. However well-educated
,however independent, however nice a girl is ;if she is going to be measured
against the money and goods and gold that she brings with her ,we are for sure
going wrong in terms of ‘development’!
So Sandhya Didi continued her struggle at her in-laws
home. A couple of years later, we heard that she had a baby boy. Everyone
rejoiced and assumed that Didi must be happier now. However, I never saw the
old demeanour again. Whenever we met her,she appeared weaker and distant. When
her son was about two years old, news came that Sandhya Didi was burnt alive
in a ‘kitchen accident’. How convenient it was that she couldn’t detect her own
clothes being on fire or feel her flesh burning till she was totally engulfed
in flames. How convenient it was that the kitchen door was jammed and wouldn’t
open or that no one in the entire household heard her cries for help or pain!!
As Sandhya Didi lay on her deathbed, Police came to
take her statement. Nakul Bhaiya coaxed her to tell the truth. She looked at
him imploringly and her eyes welled up. Then she turned to her mother in law and
looked at her pleadingly. Nakul Bhaiya turned just in time to see her mother-
in- law make a gesture of strangulation around Sandhya Didi’s son as Didi broke
down. As Nakul Bhaiya’s pleas fell on deaf ears and the Policeman asked Didi
again and again to state what happened.. she only said that her clothes caught
on fire while cooking.A couple of days later, Didi succumbed to her burns.
Nakul Bhaiya could not convince the police to take action based on what they
assumed was his misinterpretation.
Years have passed by but whenever I go to our old
neighbourhood ,I can’t help but think of Sandhya Didi. I can’t help but think
of the laughing girl in pigtails playing a game of badminton against two
younger kids. Last week as I was passing by the Sharmas place , Nakul Bhaiya
called for me. I stopped to say hello and noticed a young man in the verandah.
Nakul Bhaiya caught me staring at him and asked me to come inside and meet him.
“This is my nephew Vivek, Sandhya Didi’s son. We’ve seen him after so many
years!! He and his father have come to invite us for his wedding.” The boy’s
father also came out and patted proudly on his shoulder, “Vivek has joined a
permanent position in the Bank now so we thought it is the right time for him
to get married. You know how much dowry we are getting for him??!!” He smiled
at Vivek who seemed equally proud of this accomplishment.
Nakul Bhaiya gave a hateful glance to the two. My
heart sank and bewilderment took over me as I walked away. I could hear Nakul
Bhaiya’s voice calling my name but I could bear no more…Sandhya Didi had lost
this game….