THE MARRIAGE
Morning announced itself through
the perching of birds on the branches of trees. It had been 6 a.m.
now and I was getting delayed to reach the airport. I woke up rather
reluctantly out of my bed and went to the basin. I looked at my face in
the mirror which was morose. Today was supposed to be the best day of
my life. I was to get married and get the status of someone’s wife.
Only in this case, it was a runaway court marriage.
Preparations for this day had
been made since many months. Today was the best day when I could sneak
out of the house for a day. I was supposed to be wearing a sari as
decided by myself and Shashank. Bangles shone in my wrists and flowers
adorned my hair. I stood in a red saree in front of the mirror. When I
now look back, I see a young, restless, bright mind standing haplessly
looking at herself.
Somehow, all this hype
surrounding my marriage did not get to me at all. When I left the
house, I had a thousand odd things running in my mind. I kept thinking
all about the possible future, about my life, the “new house” I was
supposed to “adjust” into, as I was told by my father in-law.
I was just eighteen then, and
didn’t know much about the intricacies that life held. All that
grappled my mind was thoughts of running away from my house and to
escape the harmful clutches of my step mother.
I reached the airport and in a
flurry kept passing by each counter and finally reached mine. Whatever
was happening didn’t really seep through my mind. There are so many
instances in life, where, you don’t feel what actually happens to you. This was perhaps one of those.
As I boarded the flight to
Delhi, I anxiously looked outside the aircraft. Something within me
said that I should get up and run away. The very thought of me having
to be in an entirely different set up haunted me.
Two hours flit by and I reached
Delhi. I hurriedly walked outside the airport and saw Shashank standing
there. He was his usual self, tall, with a lanky frame. For a minute,
all this hoopla surrounding the aura of my “marriage” dispersed into me
looking into his eyes. He escorted me out of the airport and I was
bought to his house. He had most of his family members and I had none
but him. I thought he understood this fact somewhere down the line,
fully self-conscious of the fact of my love for him.
Finally, five of his family
members and we were taken to the court of law. There, the final seal on
our marriage had been put. I feel none, the excitement or the
happiness a bride should feel. But I do admit, my heart leapt up to
Shashak on seeing him so happy.
I was brought to his house and everyone greeted me with a smile. Elaborate meals were cooked and people had surrounded the house as honeybees surround the honeycomb. Amongst all this chatter, I felt completely left out. “Trapped,” was it? Many a times, in so many weddings I realize the bride and the groom remain objects. Objects to be looked at and then people estimate the “approximate” price of the party given. Love somewhere down the line sneaks away out of this circle of fake enthusiasm.
I’d been terrible all day with
the hectic court procedures and traveling. After people left, I was
left in my own element in a room. I was told by my mother-in-law that
Shashak would come to the room later.
And this was the worse thing to
do me thought- leave a young, sad girl all alone on the night of her
wedding. The night when she’d meet her husband and tell him how much
she loves him, the expression in the eye which expresses how a thousand
moons give her solace when she hugs the man she loves. I’d felt none
of this, all I could feel was loneliness. My heart ached and my mind
moved from one image to another. I could see, somewhere in Chennai, my
step mother filing for a police case for me missing. I could see the
image of the neighboring children I used to play with and sing songs; I
could feel the anger of my step mother, the anxiety of the children.
Surprisingly, I couldn’t feel any joy that a newly wed bride is
supposed to feel.
I felt like running out of the
room, removing all the unnecessary jewellery that I’d wore and go and
melt in Shashank’s arm. I felt like crying like a child to him,
laughing like a lover to him, and loving him as a wife would yearn to.
But I could do neither. It was
night, about 2 a.m. I think. I heard some crackling sound and woke up. I
saw Shashank right there, wanting to drink some water. He saw me open
my eyes and took me in his arms. For some reason, I’d wanted to cry and
tell him how much I loved him. But, something prevented me from doing
so. Why can’t I cry and tell him how I felt, I don’t fathom.
Night passed and I was unable to speak anything. He made love to me, and I felt an emotion taking me higher than where I was.
But, sex is only a temporary relief.
That night clouds had gathered
and I lay awake in a now fast asleep Shashank’s arms. I quietly go up
and went outside the verandah. I felt the sky curling to form a
ferocious array of clouds. I stood there, my eyelids battling the drops
of rain. It was now that I’d started crying too.
Morning again arrived, and a lot
had changed within a day. My identity had changed, and so did my life.
Shashank went to office as usual and I was kept in the house the
entire day. This episode kept repeating itself day-after-day.
Months passed and I’d started
feeling the need to do something. I’d been cooking in the house and
looking after Shashank’s family. He did the jig that a dutiful husband
is supposed to, but I realized I looked for much more.
Shashank kept coming late to the
house and the tantrums of my mother-in-law increased. I was feeling
like a bird which had been locked up in a cage, which looks golden from
the outside, but is as hollow as any other cage. A cage afterall, is a
cage.
One day, as I was ironing
Shashank’s shirt, I found a bill. It read as a bill given by a lingerie
shop, and I’d been in a state of horror. If there was something that
he had to give me, it should have been given by now, and I have never
known any instance when Shashank had bought me a gift.
That night, I felt like a robber doing this, but I checked his phone and noticed many short messages he’d sent that read-,
“She is a dutiful wife. She
takes care of my house and parents. But I do love you. Don’t worry,
even if I wouldn’t be able to marry you, I’d love you and only you. Love
you my princess.”
I’d realize the loops in our marriage and I also could now see the futility of being into a relationship when all is lost.
I’d discovered the path I wanted
to now tread on. I confronted Shashank that night and asked him about
what’s going on in his life.
“What nonsense are you talking? Do you realize,” he screamed.
“This isn’t nonsense Shashank. It’s about our life,” I explained.
“Look, Priya (this was the first
time someone actually calls me by my name, I thought) all you are
reading is not true. Ok , tell me, even if it is true , what can you
do. Where will you go? Can’t we live with it,” he asked.
“Live with it? Live with what
Shashank? This life, which is futile and which binds us to a
relationship we’ve long lost?” I thundered back.
“Fine, go wherever you want to. I won’t stop you. But do realize, you have no where to go,” he told me.
By this time, I almost had tears
in my eyes. I took a decision in my mind that this is over today.
There isn’t more I can bear.
My walking had led me to the
railway station and I’d enough money to board a train to Allahabad. I
waited in the waiting room of the train department. There, I felt like
contemplating suicide, but something within me stopped myself.
It was again 6 a.m. of the next
day and I stood near the steps of a temple All I could see is flashes
of little lightning across the still black clouds, which looked like
the same night. Lightning looked as though it’d would fall on me.
As I tried breaking this day that awaits me peace, I saw a priest doing the funeral of a old woman. She had many other relatives of hers who were crying. Somewhere, something deep inside me cried too.
After about an hour, I heard the preist say,
“Shantam. Shantam. Shantam.”
