Read Sex, Marriage and Family in World Religions Online
Authors: Witte Green Browning
Is.t.a Devata¯s of the family are thanked for having helped the bride grow up in the family of her biological parents and making her worthy of Kanya¯ Da¯na.
Furthermore, the groom and the bride also pray that continued help and blessings will be bestowed upon them for their mutual happiness; family growth; prosperity, and their ability to fulfill all the responsibilities of the human life.
Another important part of this ceremony is searching for a ring in the big bowl or thali full of water. Both the groom and the bride try to outwit each other in a joyful mood. No matter who wins, the groom puts the ring on the finger of the bride. Kan.ganas of the bride and groom are exchanged.
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Vida¯ı¯-Farewell
The first part of this ceremony consists of the couple sitting on the bed together, with almost all other married couples walking around the bed seven times and spraying puffed rice on the couple. This again is a symbolic gesture that the “Dha¯na” used in the Kanya¯ Da¯na Yagna, having transformed its identity during the performance of the yagna, will help the couple prosper and flourish like puffed rice. Similarly the bride, having been transplanted into the new family, may prosper and flourish. She literally and spiritually denounces her allegiance to the family of birth and steps forward to promote the prosperity of the new family—with her new name and Gotra [lineage] given by her in-laws.
The parents of the bride bless and give the last bit of advice that the bride’s “real parents” and relatives are the people in their respective roles in her new family. She should merge herself and identify with the family in the same manner as she had previously done in the family of her birth. This is similar to the merging of Jamuna and Sarasvatı¯ into the Gan.ga¯ in Allahabad San.gama [confluence] and becoming a bigger Gan.ga¯. The father of the bride ritually hands over his daughter to the father of the groom with a ceremonial statement that knowingly or unknowingly there may have been some differences between the nurturance of the girl and the ideas of the family, but she will learn, adopt, and grow into the traditions of the new family to the best of her capabilities and according to the expectations of her elders. She may now be accepted as part of the in-laws family.
The parents of the bride and other relatives and friends give gifts and cash to the bride. These can include all articles necessary for the household, a number of dresses and jewellery for the girl, sweets for distribution in the community, and gifts for the members of the marriage party. Of great importance is the fact that a needle and thread is a must amongst these articles to indicate that the girl should make a concerted effort to keep the family together. A pair of scissors or a knife or a lock is never given as a gift to indicate that she will never be secretive from her parents/family and never be a cause of disruption. The value and quantity of gifts and cash is dependent upon the family and its socio-economic status.
The parents and other family members see the girl and the marriage party off to the city limits if they are going to another city. Otherwise they see them off to the end of their neighborhood community. Thereafter, ceremonies start at the home of the groom.
Reception of the Bride at the Home of the Groom
The first ceremony is the reception at the entrance of the home. In this, the mother of the groom does a¯ratı¯ of the couple. Panni Varna, and attempts to take a sip of the water three times. Of particular notice is the fact that the a¯ratı¯
is done by the mother (or elder Gr.ha Laksmı¯ of the family in the absence of the mother) without consideration of her being a suha¯gin. This signifies that
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the mother vows three times to accept the bride as an integral part of the family, takes away all, if any, faults of the new member and ingests them without anyone else knowing them. The groom tries to prevent his mother from sipping the water for the first two attempts. This signifies the fact of life that as a human being the girl may make a mistake one, two or three times. The mother signifies that no matter what, she, as a mother of the groom has the capability to ingest all such situations and finally does take a sip on the third occasion.
The sisters of the groom try humorously to stop the couple’s entry into the home. The brother, with the cash or other gifts, indicates that their sister-in-law has come to them with all the gifts of her personal virtues, and they should be happy to enlarge their family by accepting the bride as such.
According to Rg Veda, Panikkar,
The Vedic Experience,
p. 263, the groom says to the bride, “Enter with your right foot. Do not remain outside.”
The couple then enters the house and goes to the place of the family’s Is.t.a Devata¯ to worship Ganapati and Is.t.a Devata¯ for the acceptance of the bride as a new member of the family. Kan.gana is taken off the bride and the groom and presented to the Lord Ganapati and the Is.t.a Devata¯.
Bride’s Mukh Dikha¯ı¯ and Goda Bhara¯ı¯
Women and children of the community visit the bride to see her and give her a shagun (gift) as a gesture welcoming her into the family/community. The bride touches the feet of the elders and the sisters of the groom as an indication of her respect to them. The mother of the groom brings some money or clothes to the bride to be given to the elder/sisters as a token of recognition and mutual goodwill. This may also be an indication of the feelings that her joining of the family/community will always be for the pleasure and betterment of the family/
community. Younger brothers and nephews of the groom touch the feet of the bride and seek her a¯sírva¯da.
Other ceremonies are performed according to the customs, family traditions, and economic status of the family without extending themselves beyond their means. Expenses by the girl’s parents are limited to a level that they feel that they should give to the girl as gifts for their own and the girl’s pleasure.
Old Indian traditions and religious beliefs do not give the bride any rights to the property inheritance from her biological parents. They do entitle her full rights in her parents-in-law’s property. Thus, the parents and other members of the family from the girl’s side try to go overboard at the time of her marriage in giving her cash, jewellery, and other gifts. This religious custom later developed into bargaining and the evil practice of contracting a dowry.
The second part of this ceremony is Goda Bhara¯ı¯. A male child of the family, either a younger brother or a cousin or a nephew, is given by the mother-in-law to the bride (literally put in her lap). This implies two auspicious thoughts: i. The new Gr.ha-Laksmı¯ adopts all the younger children of the new family as her own children.
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ii. May God bless the bride with a son as her first child.
The bride gives a gift of cash or some other most wanted gift to the child.
[Hindu Marriage Ceremony According to the A¯rya Sama¯j Tradition, in Hindu Marriage Samskara, Prem Sahai (Allahabad: Wheeler, 1993), pp. 20–50]
“COUNTING THE FLOWERS,” A SHORT STORY BY
CHUDAMANI RAGHAVAN, TRANSLATED FROM THE
TAMIL BY THE AUTHOR
Chudamani Raghavan’s story takes the reader into the setting of a marriage negotiation between the impoverished parents of young Brinda, the bride, and those of her potential husband who are better off financially. While her parents anxiously discuss the possible terms of the marriage, and its costs, the focus shifts to Brinda’s thoughts and feelings as she gazes at the blossoms of the nagalinga tree. Its flowers, both in their beauty and fleeting fragility, become a metaphor for Brinda’s own place and destiny as her future is bartered away. Set against the background of Hindu marriage, the story is a poignant evocation of the inner dimensions of marriage traditions from a perspective of a bride-to-be in present-day South India.
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c h u d a m a n i r a g h a v a n , “ c o u n t i n g t h e fl o w e r s ”
“Brinda! Bring the coffee, child.” Brinda brought the coffee.
“This is Brinda.” Take a good look, the tone of his voice added. And the visitors did. The girl was not fair skinned, only wheat colored. But a wheat colored vision! Her face and figure vied for supremacy. Of more than average height, she had a luminous air of easy, natural grace about her that brushed aside poverty as one might shake off a fly.
“Prostrate before visitors.” It was another command from the girl’s father.
Brinda prostrated before the visitors.
“Sit down, child,” said the boy’s father. Brinda sat down and fixed her eyes on the nagalinga tree visible through the window in front of her.
The boy’s mother glared at her husband. Was it not for
her
to invite the girl to sit down? And the girl, too, had sat down at once. Really!
“Please drink your coffee,” the girl’s father urged, doing the honors.
“Oh, yes!” The boy’s mother turned to the girl, “How far have you been educated?”
The girl’s father gave a start. Had the marriage broker not apprised the bridegroom’s party of these details?
“We had to stop her schooling with the Eighth Standard.”
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“Not good at studies, I suppose?”
Brinda looked intently at the tree. On top, at a great height, the dense green foliage fanned out against the sky. Clusters of thin offshoots sprouting from the lower branches hung down, heavy with flowers. Flowers resembling serpents’
heads, each with a lingam inside, as if crying out to be christened nagalinga.
Petals of pink and pale yellow all around. In the center, the snake’s raised hood over the tiny knob of the lingam. These flowers certainly had a beauty all of their own.
“Actually, she was very good at her studies and wanted to continue, but we didn’t have the facility.”
“Why talk of facility? Schooling is free.”
“I meant the circumstances at home. My wife does not keep well. And I am often away on duty, being a traveling medical salesman. So Brinda had to give up school and stay home to look after her mother and the family, and run the house.”
“It does not matter,” said the boy. “Going to school isn’t all that important.”
This was totally unexpected. All eyes, except Brindas, turned toward him.
His mother’s face went red with anger. Even his father gave him an embarrassed look that plainly bemoaned his naivete, as he said, “Isn’t it surprising for a girl not to have completed her school education these days, when even a B.A. is so common?”
The girl’s father voiced his anxiety, “I had asked the broker to tell you everything about us. Didn’t he do so?”
“Oh yes, he did.”
Then why the questions, the girl’s mother seemed to ask silently as she raised her head for the first time to look at the boy’s mother. Just for the pleasure of saying, “Not good at studies?”
“Your coffee is getting cold,” said the girl’s father. The visitors drained their tumblers.
“Good coffee,” commented the boy’s father, mentally adding that these people must have prepared it specially for this day.
“Brinda made it. The bondas gloss and sojji gloss were also made by her. A very competent girl, our Brinda. Adept at all household arts.” The girl’s father spoke with the pride of a salesman advertising his wares. The girl’s mother sat with her eyes carefully averted from her daughter, afraid that she might break down if she looked at her.
My, my, how many flowers there were on that tree! Brinda counted them as far as her eyes could reach: One, two, three, four, five. . . . Before she had counted up to a dozen, the flowers got mixed up. Had she counted the one on the upper branch or not? She guessed that there would be about three dozen flowers in all. A wealth of delicately hued blossoms, silken in their softness.
There must be many more strewn at the foot of the tree. The strip of wall below the window obstructed the view. She would be able to see better if she stood up.
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“Why is the girl so quiet?” asked the boy’s mother and turned to Brinda with the question. “What are you looking at so intently out there?”
“At the nagalinga tree,” Brinda said without lifting her gaze. “What’s the idea? Turn round and talk to us.”
“Talk about what?” Brinda’s eyes had still not budged from the tree. Suddenly she began to talk. “Do you know about this tree? It has its autumn at least four times a year. For days on end you see it shedding its brown leaves in the wind.
They pile up thick and high on the ground. You have a tough time sweeping out the place. And then, in just a few days, right in front of your eyes, the green leaves appear again, fast and fresh, and cover the entire tree in no time! You wouldn’t believe it was the same tree that had been bare such a short while ago. Even as the dead leaves are falling off, the tiny new green ones are sprouting alongside—what an enchanting sight! Almost as if the old tree has sloughed off its skin and a new one was appearing from within.”
The boy was looking happily at the girl, a fact noted both by his mother and the girl’s father.
His mother seethed inwardly. Did the wretched boy have no pride, for God’s sake? His eyes were going to pop right out of his head. . . . She controlled her temper and, wanting to distract him, turned back hastily to the girl to say, “Your father said you made the tiffin. Can you cook meals also?”
No, there weren’t three dozen flowers. Perhaps four or five short. The petals were spread out wide and had created the illusion of there being many more than there actually were. Nothing more.
“Brinda, didn’t you hear Aunty?” rebuked her father. “Why don’t you speak?
Turn round and answer her.”
Brinda turned toward the lady, “What did you say, Aunty?”
“I wanted to know if you can cook.”
“I can.”
“What did I tell you! Our Brinda is very capable,” said Brinda’s father.
“Hm.”
“The eldest of our sons, Seenu, is also a capable, brilliant boy. If put through college he will do very well and come up in life. Perhaps you would consider helping us with this. . . . ” The girl’s father smiled ingratiatingly, remembering what the marriage broker had advised: “There’s no harm in your asking them, anyway.”