At the time Purandei had come to live with her, Tara had strictly instructed her not to talk to anyone about her family, about her marriage and about the incident of her in-laws’ house burning down.
Tayee seemed rather taken up with worrying over Tara, and showed it by praising her often. She would say, ‘There’s no hurry about the younger one. A twenty-year woman is not considered too old for marriage now. I married my younger one when she was twenty, after she had done her BA. But sister, it becomes tough to find a match for a girl who has had too much education. I should know, for the trouble I had in finding a match for my younger one. Your elder one is a BA–MA officer, you’d have to find a match who is higher than a BA–MA. If she’s 800–900 rupees a month officer, you’ll have to match her with an officer who earns at least Rs 1000 or more. It’s no joke to marry off your daughter. And she’s holding such a high position, but is docile like a dairy cow and so polite. Addresses everyone by using “ji”. When she talks, it feels as if flowers not words are falling out of her mouth. She’ll need someone who’s just right for her.’
Tayee would begin to talk about her nephew, ‘My brother’s younger son is an officer in the Forest Department. His salary is only a thousand a month, but by God’s grace, he manages to make a lot more over and above. He
has an official car, half-a-dozen minders. The older is in the Railways. His salary isn’t that much, only five hundred a month, but he too has plenty of extra income. The younger one has an eight-year-old boy, studying at some English boarding school in Dehradun. His wife, poor soul, died of a heart attack at the time of her second delivery. The dear boy is hardly old, just around thirty-five. He had no shortage of marriage proposals, but says that he wants a match who is well-educated and intelligent. He has a position, you know. High officials, the deputy commissioner, magistrates often stay as house guests. Such a nice family.’
Tayee would repeat all this in the presence of Tara. She was waiting for some kind of signal from Purandei.
Sita had been behaving herself under the influence of Tara, and after her own bitter experience. Tara had noticed that the young woman, after living for some time under self-imposed constraints, had lately been acting a bit restless. She had learned songs she heard over the radio, particularly sad songs and those about love. She had a good voice and sometimes sang to herself in Hindi:
‘…It’s like watching someone’s youth turn to ashes…’
Or in Punjabi:
‘Long, and oh so dark, my sweetheart
Are the nights away from you…’
Purandei let Sita serve tea or sherbet to Mathur, Narottam and other male guests, but frowned upon her daughter sitting with them in the living room. To her mind it was different with Tara, who held a responsible position and was more matured, but Sita in her eyes was still naïve. Purandei of course forgot that Sita worked alongside young men in her office all day. Tara could not help but observe that Sita seldom came into the room when Mathur, Chaddha and others came by, but always passed through the room when Narottam was present. Sometime she would find an excuse to linger, adjusting and readjusting her dupatta or aanchal. Tara also detected Narottam’s eyes following Sita. She had not expected such behaviour from Narottam, but could not ignore what she saw.
Tara immediately spoke with Narottam, ‘Nottan, what’s going on? Come clean if you have any intentions towards her.’
‘Didi, how could you say that?’
‘Then why are you leading her on?’
‘What if a woman challenges you to flirt?’ Narottam said to avoid being cornered.
Tara felt deeply hurt.
‘What if your dallying gets her into trouble?’
‘No such thing. I don’t intend to go that far.’
‘For you it might be innocent fun. What if she thought you were serious about her? She isn’t all that sophisticated, just a simple girl from the back lanes of the city. She actually wants someone to settle down with.’
‘Achcha, no more of this,’ Narottam said.
‘Anyway, Nottan, what’s all this I’ve been hearing about you?’ Tara decided to have her say after broaching the subject. ‘I don’t approve of it.’
‘What?’
‘About your acting like a
bhanvara,
bumblebee. A new girlfriend everyday. It was Lavang Vyas two or three months ago. Then it was Rekha. Then Meena. Now it’s Deva.’
‘Deva? How can you, didi? She is Dolly’s teacher at the Miranda College, much older than I am. Have you ever met her? She’s the serious, academic type, no chance of any misunderstanding there.’
‘All right, may be not her. But is it proper to give hopes to others, have a good time and then drop them? Aren’t you afraid of getting a bad reputation?’
‘Didi, I never gave anybody any hopes. I don’t chase anyone. They want to get me in the catch-me game, and I slip out.’ Narottam said with a smile, ‘It’s not me who’s being a bhanvara. It’s just that there are butterflies all around me.’
‘Nonsense!’ Tara said with a frown. She knew she could scold Narottam for his own good. ‘Who do you think you are?’
‘I know who I am. I have no illusions about me, that’s why I am not fooled. They are just a bunch of leeches who want to cadge off others. They are looking for a fat catch, and I don’t want to be their prey.’
‘Isn’t it egotistical of you to think that those women are so completely besotted with you that they can’t see how badly you treat them, and you can discard them when you want.’
‘None of them is besotted with me; all they want is to flirt.’ Narottam moved to the edge of his chair, ‘They are the ones who are willing to take a gamble. And no risk is too big for them. I don’t want to gamble, so I just let go of them.’
‘If this is not being egotistical, what is?’
Narottam said with great seriousness, ‘Didi, you call me an egoist! Show me one from all these who’d want to be my partner or companion for life. All they want is someone to feed them all their lives. These women don’t see the person, just how much money he has, and compete fiercely for one who has money. To love someone and to take advantage of someone are not one and the same thing. Name me one who’d be willing to stand beside me and face the challenges and struggles of life? Suppose I am in Chaddha’s position tomorrow. Will any one of these be willing to make sacrifices as Mercy has done? People say bad things about Dr Shyama, but I think that woman has moral courage. She does not deceive anyone to take advantage of him…’
Tara took a deep breath, and sat silently, her chin resting on her fist. ‘This boy is fighting his own demons,’ she was thinking.
About two months after Guddi’s naming ceremony, her mother Saroj broached a subject rather hesitatingly with Tara. The younger uncle of her husband had owned a big cloth store in Okada, Punjab. When he came to Delhi as a refugee, he did not have enough money to open another store. Therefore he opened a small store to sell buckets, trunks and small stoves made of iron and steel. Soon he began to manufacture tin boxes and containers by hand, then bought a machine to do the job. That business was now earning him over Rs 1000 per month. Since his son, who had done his BA, did not want a job that paid only Rs 150 or 200 per month, he had joined the family business. Mehta’s aunt had come to the naming ceremony. When she had found out that Sita was a Brahmin, she had asked Saroj to convey the message of a marriage alliance to Tara.
Saroj said that Mehta’s uncle did not care if the son got a large dowry or expensive presents, but the bride must be pretty and without any physical defects. The son had been married only a year before partition. His wife had gone to her parents’ home for her first childbirth, and everyone in her family had been murdered in the riots. Saroj also made clear that the uncle considered his twenty-six-year-old son to be unmarried in a way.
Tara passed on the message to Purandei. Purandei was very excited, but did not want to be seen accepting the proposal right away. Covering her mouth with her hand, she raised an objection, ‘The boy was married once. How can he be called unmarried?’
What could Tara say to her? She kept quiet, and gave no reply to Saroj. Although Mehta came by every Sunday with Guddi to ask if he could be of any help, he also did not bring up the subject when Tara did not. One Sunday after Mehta had left, Purandei asked Tara in a hushed tone, ‘His family did not give any answer about the boy?’
Tara was surprised, ‘Bua, it was you who said that the boy could not be called unmarried. They kept quiet when they got no response from you.’
‘Hai, may I die! When did I mean to say that? All I meant was that you do as you think proper.’
‘When Mehta comes next time, I’ll ask him to send Saroj over. You speak to her yourself.’
‘Beti, what could an uneducated stupid woman like me say in this matter?’ Purandei asserted her confidence in Tara, ‘It’s all in your hands, you know what to do. This good deed will be done by you. You arrange this, and I’ll go bath in the Ganga. What more can I say? You are Sita’s elder sister, you are also her brother. I didn’t mean anything particular. If the boy has no children, he’s like unmarried. Men are like that. A man and a horse are as good as new once they have had a bath.’
‘Why don’t you ask Sita what she thinks about a marriage partner?’
‘Hai, who asks such things of daughters?’ Purandei said, obviously surprised. ‘What does the poor girl know? It’s not same with you, you are older and wiser. You tell them to show the boy to you. I’ll come along if you want, but don’t whisper a word to anyone. People cannot bear seeing good things happening to anyone, you know.’ Purandei knew that her neighbour Gurandei was also searching for a match for her younger daughter.
Tara said nothing. She thought, ‘I may not be all that wise, but I am doing matchmaking just like an older person.’
When Saroj came by one day, Purandei said to her in a roundabout way, ‘My husband’s elder brother lives in Amritsar, my brother and his wife are in Ajnala. Let me also consult them. Such big decisions are not taken in a hurry. I don’t know about the custom in villages and small towns, but in Lahore and Amritsar one did not say “yes” or “no” right away. There’s a way how such things are done. The women from the boy’s family went for months to help out at the girl’s home before they were given an answer.’
Saroj and Mehta’s sister-in-law paid several visits to spend some time with Purnadei. They seemed to agree on most matters, except that the boy’s family wanted him to see the girl before setting the wedding date. How
could Purandei say no, for such practices had become the custom in Lahore and Amritsar also? She finally agreed to take a dressed Sita to the temple of Hanuman on a Tuesday afternoon, and that Saroj will point out Sita to the boy from a distance. Purandei did not want her innocent girl to see the boy.
Thinking it was useless to argue with Purandei, Tara decided to ask Sita about her choice of marriage partner. Sita said shyly, ‘Bahinji, I don’t know. Whatever you decide is right for me.’
Sita had not been told anything about the search of a groom for her, but she had known everything from the first day itself.
Tara said to tease her, ‘Don’t accuse me later that we pushed you into the marriage blindfolded. I heard someone say that your groom has a very dark, pockmarked complexion and perhaps a squint.’
‘Well, it is still all right if you approve of him,’ Sita bowed her head, trying to suppress a smile. She had had a good look at the boy on the way to the temple.
‘If you’re too shy to have a look at him, you don’t have to.’
‘What’s there to be shy of? Everyone likes to have a look these days. Sometimes they even get to talk to each other,’ Sita said, keeping her head down.
‘Go away, you wretch! Moments ago you didn’t care. Now you want to talk to him.’
Sita bashfully covered her face with her dupatta.
Mehta’s uncle Pundit Bulaki Ram did not want to delay the wedding for long. Mehta and Saroj came to visit and to reassure Purandei, ‘We are as much from the boy’s family as from the girl’s family. Who wants to show off! We are all in the same boat, trying to resettle ourselves after losing everything. The sooner this good deed is done, the better. You won’t have to bother about anything. We’ll help you do everything.’
Purandei had a letter written to her brother-in-law in Amritsar. The brother-in-law’s family had broken off relations with her sixteen years ago, and had no intention of participating and, therefore, sharing the cost of her daughter’s wedding. Purandei’s brother and his wife came from Ajnala, as did her own sister from Jagaraon, for the occasion. It did not enthuse Tara, rather it meant guests crowded into her flat for several days and an extra expense of several hundred rupees. She was doing it as a duty. Mathur had taken over the charge of organizing the ceremony, and came by every day to offer his advice.
When Narottam was told of Sita’s wedding by Tara, he called her over and asked, ‘Congratulations! What would you like as a present?’
Sita dropped her head shyly.
Tara said to help her, ‘Achcha, we’ll think of a good present for you.’
When she had invited Mercy and Chaddha, how could Tara not invite Mr and Mrs Nath?
After her chance encounter with Nath at his office at the Planning Commission, Tara had gone back to meet him the next day. Before leaving for her own office around 1.30 p.m., she had invited Nath to lunch at her place on Sunday.
On the following Friday and Saturday she spent over Rs 60 in redecorating her living room. She did everything with great care, as if preparing for a festive occasion. She changed the curtains over her door and windows, and got matching covers for the settee and the table.
The floor of the aangan of Nath’s mansion in Lahore had been bricked over, leaving no space for house or flower plants. Nath had kept a few potted crotons in a veranda in his wing, and some bougainvillea creepers that grew in tubs on the roof nearby. In his study he had two small potted palms with lush fronds. He had told Tara the names of several plants he had, and Tara remembered how very fond he was of narcissus flowers. Tara bought a small Chinese palm and a colourful coleus from a nursery, and brass pots, to keep them in, from an emporium.