A Life Less Ordinary (10 page)

Baba's eyes now filled with tears. “Oh, Rani,” he said to Ma, “my poor child, they strangled her to death. What did she do to deserve this? I'm going to see that bastard goes to jail for this.” Later, Baba's neighbors and others told him that when Mangal heard of this threat, he said, “So what? Let him send me to prison. I'll make sure that not one sign of that woman is left in this world.” Baba understood this to mean that he would kill off their children when he came out of prison. We discussed this a lot. Baba was angry that they had not waited until he came to cremate her: he would have made sure the body was sent for a post-
mortem. He felt really helpless. Many of Baba's friends in the neighborhood had offered to help, saying he only had to say the word and they would cut off Mangal's hands so his life would effectively be finished.

Everyone listening to this story had tears in their eyes. Baba could hardly speak, he was so overcome with sorrow and rage. I kept thinking of how she must have felt, the fear in her mind as she watched her husband killing her. Listening to Baba made me want to scream. He was telling us how they had refused to let him take the children away. Finally Baba had left, saying that if God willed, the children would have a good life. But I thought, whether God willed it or not, my sister must have had such a hard life.

After a few days, life returned to normal at Baba's house. He no longer seemed to be concerned about what Didi's children were going through. Sometimes I wondered if he even realized that he had two other grandchildren. I wanted to go and see the children, but how could I? I was helpless and tied to my husband. I had to do as he said, I had no independence. But why? I used to wonder at the injustice of this. It was
my
life, not his. Did I have to behave as he wanted simply because I was with him? He treated me as if I were an animal. If I had no happiness and peace in his house, was it necessary that I should stay on there in that living hell?

A week went by like this in Baba's house. But I was not happy. Ma and Baba did not tolerate me sitting down anywhere even for a short while. Baba did not mind if Ma did what she wanted, but as for us—my brother and I—he always complained. Some days, if I was not feeling well and wanted to rest, Baba seemed quite unconcerned. But if I lay for a little while in bed, he just would not stand for it. I had to do all the housework when I was there, and if I overstayed my welcome even slightly
there would be all sorts of tensions in the house, and I would have to go back to my husband. This is exactly what happened this time.

 

MY CHILD WAS SOME THREE MONTHS OLD WHEN ONE DAY,
after we had eaten, I was cleaning outside the house when my husband looked up and said, “Oh, there's Baba.” Baba? I wondered, whose Baba? I thought perhaps he meant my father had come, but he pointed and said, “Look, look over there.” I looked, and saw an old man dressed in white. He stood there looking at me and my husband. I was surprised. Then my husband ushered him inside and I quickly got some water to wash his feet. He went in and began to talk to his son while I stayed outside. I could hear a bit of what they were saying: “You got married without telling any of us,” his father said. “But why? Not only did you not tell anyone, but it's been three years and you have not so much as shown your face at home. And all the time your mother keeps asking after you. We wanted so much to have your marriage at our house, to bring our daughter-in-law home, and yet you did not say a word, and you even had a child without telling us. Don't you think you owe us at least this much?” After a while he continued: “If this is what you feel, then tell us. We won't bother you again and we'll not feel bad about it. We'll just tell ourselves that we have no son.” My husband muttered something in reply, but I could not make out what it was. I quickly lit the fire and made tea and took it in to him with a biscuit. My father-in-law seemed very angry with me, but what had I done? I had no idea my husband even
had
parents: he had never so much as spoken of them.

Father and son continued to talk and I listened. I wanted very much to take the child and put him in his grandfather's lap, but I
was not sure if I should. How would he take it, I wondered? What if he rejected the child? Shouldn't I at least try? So I just picked the baby up and put him in his lap, saying, “Your son may have been unjust to you, but why punish this innocent child for that? Take him in your arms.” My father-in-law smiled gently and his anger vanished. So I left the child with him and went off to cook. I put on the rice and asked my husband what I should make. He told me to wait while he went to fetch some fish.

“Daughter-in-law,” my husband's father said to me after he had gone, “when you married my son did no one think to ask whether he had a family or not? Or was it that your father saw a lone man and just married you off to him?”

“Baba,” I said, “I know nothing about these things.”

“Where is your father?” he asked. “Where is his home?”

“It's quite close by. Perhaps you could go there tomorrow morning with your son?”

“How old is my grandchild now? Have you given him a name?”

“He's three months old and, no, I have not yet found a name for him.”

“So, then we will call him Subal. I have six children,” he added, “and only my eldest son is married, although he is so unfortunate that he's had no male child: one after the other there have been only girls. My middle son is not yet married and after him is your husband. You don't even know anything about our work. We are potters. What is your father's name?”

“Upendranath Halder.”

“Oh, so you are Halders, are you?” I murmured a yes and he continued, “So does he come here to meet his grandchild?”

“Yes, but very seldom.”

I was talking to him with my head bowed and my sari pulled low over my forehead. After we had eaten that day, he commented
to my husband that I was a good cook, even if the food was a little too spicy for him. I was relieved to hear this, and I realized that he was not angry with me anymore.

The next morning, my brother came by and when he saw my father-in-law he called from outside, “Who is that, Didi?” I told him, and then went inside to announce my brother's arrival. “Where is he?” said my father-in-law. “Call him in, call him in.” Then he rushed out and invited him to come in for a while, but my brother said he couldn't stay as he was on his way to the market. When he got home and he told my father that my father-in-law had come to visit, Baba was really surprised. “Rani,” he said to Ma, “that means Shankar lied to us when he said he had no parents.”

“Leave it be,” she said. “What can we do about it now? Anyway, now that we know, let's go and meet his father.”

In the evening, they came over. Baba called out from outside, “Baby, I hear your father-in-law is here!” I was cooking and Father-in-law was sitting nearby drinking tea. “He's right here,” I said, “why don't you come in?”

“Oho,” said my father-in-law, “come in, Brother, come in and sit down. Daughter, make some tea for your parents.”

“No, no, we've just had tea,” Baba protested.

I knew that there was no point making tea, that Baba would not drink it, so I pretended not to hear. “How is everyone at your home?” Baba asked my father-in-law.

“Fine, thank you, everything is fine. Tell me, how is it that you people got your daughter married but you didn't so much as tell us about it?”

“We had no idea that Shankar's parents were alive. He lied to us and told us that he was all alone. Had we known you were there, why would we not have told you? I wouldn't have married
off my daughter like this.” Then, after a brief silence, Baba asked, “So, will you take your daughter-in-law with you?”

“No, not yet. First I need to get home and tell everyone what has happened. His mother wanted so much to have a proper wedding, to bring home her daughter-in-law…and look at this chap! He just ran off without a word and got married.”

“But now that it's happened,” my mother said, “won't you please give them your blessings so they can live a peaceful and happy life?”

“We'll leave now,” Baba said. “Tomorrow morning I will send my son here. Please come back with him to our home.”

The next day my brother came and took Father-in-law with him. Ma cooked for him and he enjoyed her food very much—even more than mine, as he told me when he returned. He also liked my father's home and their way of living. The next day he left us, promising to come back the next month.

 

I'D BEEN TRYING TO FIND A NAME FOR MY CHILD. HIS
grandfather had named him Subal; my husband called him Budhan; but I didn't like either. My brother-in-law suggested Gautam, which I quite liked, but in the end, I called him Subroto, and his nickname was Babu.

After he'd been gone a month, my father-in-law came back to fetch me. As soon as he arrived, he asked my husband whether I could return with him.

“How can she just leave like that? We'll need to get her things ready, to get her some new clothes and all that.”

“Yes, but I can't wait too long. The crop is ready for harvesting and I need to get back there. If she comes back with me, she can take care of all the household work and your mother can join us in
the fields. I don't expect your wife to help us in the fields, but at home…”

“All right, but just wait a couple of days. I also need to collect some money that's due to me. Once it comes in, you can go.”

I could understand my father-in-law's impatience. Everyone would be busy there, especially as the crop was ready for harvesting. He's left all this and come to fetch me because they need my help, I thought, so I decided to get ready to leave as soon as possible. I had no idea how they expected me to conduct myself there. But I felt so happy—as though I was being taken out on a pleasure trip. But I was also wondering how I would manage alone—who would there be for me to talk to? What would I do if I wanted to talk about private things, things I wouldn't want to discuss with people I didn't know? And if I was busy with household chores all day, who would take care of my child? On top of that, I had no idea how long I was expected to be there.

On impulse, I ran to my father's home and asked Grandma if she could send someone with me to my in-laws' house. “Who?” she asked me. I asked her to send her middle daughter, known to everyone as Mez-budi. Grandma agreed, so I ran to Mez-Budi and asked her, “Hey, Budi, will you come with me?”

“Where to?”

“My in-laws' home.”

“Will Ma let me go?”

“I've already asked her. I'll come to fetch you tomorrow morning, so you'd better be ready! We'll have to do some walking, I hope you can manage that.” And with that I ran back home.

My father-in-law had told me that in order to get to their home, we would have to walk for about three miles. I was a little worried at this, but then he told me, “I knew this would be difficult for you, so I have asked your brother-in-law to bring a bullock cart to bring you to the house.” Sandhya-di came to see me
before I left, and she explained to me in detail how I was expected to behave in my in-laws' home.

In the morning I was ready bright and early! I went to fetch Mez-budi and found that she was halfway to our place already! So we set off together and boarded our bus. When we got down at our stop, we saw a man standing with a bullock cart. Mez-budi said to me, “Quick, cover your head!” I promptly did so and we clambered up into the cart. This was the first time I'd ever been on a bullock cart. Mez-budi was dying of laughter at the rocking motion of the bullock cart and I was also quietly laughing into my
aanchal
. My father-in-law followed us on his bicycle. There were large ruts and ditches in the road, and as the bullock cart went over them, it would jerk and rock from side to side. Mez-budi found this very amusing and I kept trying to hush her giggles. The road went on and on—it seemed like forever. I kept asking my brother-in-law how much further it was as we passed village after village.

Finally, we stopped and my brother-in-law said, “Look, there's my elder aunt.” I got down quickly and touched her feet. “Come, come into the house,” she said. My mother-in-law brought a
charpai
out. Before sitting down I touched everyone's feet. I noticed that my mother-in-law was cooking on a wood fire and I began to get a bit worried—how would I manage? I was used to cooking with coal. After a while, my husband's elder aunt took me to the pond to bathe. I was so happy to see the water, and I wanted immediately to jump in and start swimming, but I stopped myself. What would they think?

The water was beautiful, clear, and as still as a sheet of glass. Some days it was warm and on other days it was cool, and I made every excuse I could to go to the pond. Once in the water, I would jump around and play like a child. People began to ask me if there was no pond where my father lived and I told them that there
was, but it was never as clean and clear as this one. One day my younger brother-in-law, Anil, asked me if I knew how to swim. I said yes, so he said, “Let's go to the pond and see who can cross it faster.”

“Okay, let's go!”

The pond was quite wide, and we got into it together and began to race. He gave up halfway across, but I reached the other side in a flash! People on the banks were amazed. Who would have thought that a city girl could swim so well? Others remarked that this was the first time that they'd ever seen anyone swim all the way across. Some even came home and talked to me afterward. Many people in the neighborhood began asking my father-in-law questions about me. “Why,” they said, “is this your daughter-in-law or your daughter? She doesn't even cover her head in front of you.”

“What of it?” said my father-in-law. “I'm the one who has asked her not to. She is like my daughter.” And it was true: he had asked me not to bother covering my head in front of him, only to make sure that it was covered if others were around, because, as he explained, “this is a village and people are not so open-minded.” In fact, people there were curious to see if a city girl like me could manage the housework. Both my father-in-law and mother-in-law assured them that I could, and my husband's elder aunt also told them that she thought I was good-natured. Everyone there was kind to me and seemed to like me.