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….