Maybe...In another life !

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….

 

 

 

The Other side

When I was commuting via the Delhi Metro last week, I realized that forgetting my I-Pod at home was a huge oversight! I was in a crowded coach and having not found a seat was perched near the door. Feeling frustrated at the thought of having to stand for another hour till I could find a seat , I tried to ease my mind by focusing on my novel ‘Desirable Daughters’ . I had only gone through a few pages when a loud complaining voice coming from seat next to me attracted my attention. “I don’t know what her problem is yaar, she is always interfering in whatever I do. I get up in the morning at around 7 a.m. and by the time I reach the kitchen , she is halfway through making breakfast of her choice. She makes sure my husband knows that she is the one making his breakfast and tiffin. She calls me at office to ask me what to cook for dinner, what do I know??!!! Why bother me at office? It is as if the entire household is under her control and my husband too and now she wants to control my office time too! I feel so belittled by her behavior!!” A lady in a Green Sari was talking to the lady sitting next to her. She had animated expressions and was visibly upset. “How will I spend the rest of my life?” she sobbed. The lady next to her said “ Everybody has problems with their mother- in –laws. Don’t take it so seriously.” ‘Ohh Saas-Bahu  drama!!! I can’t take this!!!’ I groaned internally and started looking for another space to squeeze in.

I thought maybe I’d find a seat or some space to stand in the Ladies coach so I started to make my way through the sea of people who gave me nasty looks as I pushed through and pulled myself through the coach. I finally found myself in the relatively less crowded Ladies Coach. ‘Phew!!Bach gaye’ I thought as I found a tiny space on the berth. With half of my body on the berth and half just hanging in the air, I looked around.I was sitting (if you can call it sitting) beside two elderly ladies and they seemed to be deep in discussion , “ I am just trying to make their lives easier.I know Nandini gets tired at the Office so I make breakfast and Neeraj’s tiffin so she doesn’t feel the pressure early in the morning .But I feel she gets upset as soon as she sees me. I try to consult with her about dinner but she asks me to not bother her at work.I would also love to sit and not do anything but I want them both to enjoy their lives .I don’t know what to do!” she sounded sad and then she turned to her friend and said “How will I spend the rest of my life?”

 

I started to feel uneasy and cursed myself for forgetting my saviour , my I-Pod, at home. I got up from the seat and stood near the door. The thought on my mind was that of confusion! I wish we could be more open towards communication with each other!! As I stood there, the elderly lady got off at the next station. I looked at her walk slowly with her friend and just as the Metro pulled away from that station I saw the lady in Green sari spot the elderly lady ,  she halted and gave her a fake smile….

 

An Incomplete story

The day started out like an average sunny summer morning.. I had no particular plans for this Sunday but a phone call from a school friend inviting me to watch Iron Man 3 in 3D was lucrative enough for me to get ready in a jiffy and be off to the Cineplex. I met my friend Arnav who had brought another friend of his for the movie. He introduced us, "Mauly this is Tenzing, and Tenzing this is Mauly." There was about half an hour left for the movie to start and we started chatting. "Tenzing, your name reminds me of a classmate back home in Dharamshala." I said thinking of the little boy in my class in Std.4 "Oh yeah? what about him?" Tenzing (from the present) asked.

 "Well...we had just started learning how to write with an ink pen at school and our Sister was very particular about carrying Ink Pens along with a cursive writing book everyday. Since it was not in the Time Table, many students would forget to bring them making her very angry." I was  already transported to my school days and continued ,"On this particular day, I had forgotten to bring my Ink Pen. Unfortunately for me, Sister Grace was in no mood for any excuses having reminded us all over and over. She took out a thin bamboo stick and any student without Ink pen or cursive writing book was asked to stand up and wait to be hit on their palms. Oh man, the 'wait' was more difficult than the actual beating! I had never been even spoken to in a harsh tone at home or at school, let alone being hit by anyone...so I was already in tears while standing and waiting for my turn. Tenzing used to sit on the seat behind me, he saw me standing and asked me what the matter was. I told him I had forgotten my Ink pen and I think he saw my tears. He told me to keep my palm tight because the stick would hurt less (he was speaking from personal experience) and I tried to control a sob!

Just as Sister Grace started checking the students in my row, I felt a shiver down my spine...and just then....an Ink pen appeared on my desk. I was stupefied and looked back instinctively at Tenzing. He gestured me to sit down ,I nodded in disapproval and he gently pulled my arm down to make me sit. Sister Grace came to me, saw me holding the pen and the book and passed me. I heard a loud swish as the bamboo stick came down on Tenzing's out-stretched palm. I saw him wince and tears ran uncontrollably on my cheeks. He smiled at me...I can't forget that moment ever! " Arnav and Tenzing (from the present) were suitably impressed. "So did you thank him or bought him chocolate or not?" Arnav asked with a grin. "I couldn't my dear Arnav, because I didn't see him after that day...I guess that was his last day at our school." "That's not a great ending Mauly, I wish you had thanked him!" "Yahh,me too" I replied. Arnav's friend Tenzing said "Wow...I didn't come for an unfinished story today!" I smiled "Chalo the movie is about to start."  Tenzing followed me as I followed Arnav.

 "You know that was my favourite pen and you never returned it." He suddenly said. "What?!!!" I turned around sharply... "It was a bright red pen that you never returned ..you owe me a 'thank you' and a chocolate." Tenzing was smiling, and suddenly the smile I had seen through the tears all those years ago was in front of me again. "You've got to be kidding me!!" I said. "I told you I didn't come for an incomplete story today" he said...