Women

Urmila did not listen to her mother's plea. She had already made up her mind; she was not going to marry until her schooling was complete. Her father to failed to persuade her. However, much to her parents' relief, she agreed to consider a marriage proposal when Pramila, an aunt and spinster living with them, spoke to her gently: "you may continue your study as long as you wish, but do not reject a proposal from a good family out of hand. You may have to regret later. Just think of me." Aunt Pramila was also gratified.

Photographs of the prospective groom and bride were exchanged between the families. In the photograph, the man appeared handsome and the parents were pleased. Urmila herself felt a quickening of her heart, and sharing the joy, her aunt

teased Urmila:" won't he do for you? You'd like him, won't you?" Urmila felt shy and left without a word.

A meeting was then arranged at the gardens at Lhuti and on the appointed day, the match-maker appeared with Ashok, the prospective groom, his mother and an older sister while Urmila herself was accompanied by her mother, aunt and a younger sister. Of medium height, with a moon-like face, round and bright, Ashok was quite impressive in a Western suit. With her slightly longish face, white complexion and dreamy eyes, Urmila too appeared in her best and very charming.
Pramila whispered: "Urmila, you may go and speak to him. You must decide for yourself."

Overcome by shyness, Urmila held back until her to be a bold, modern girl. As Urmila and Ashok walked slowly towards the trees at some distance, both families produced the delicacies they had brought with them and invited one another to partake of the same. With the mach-maker inventing excuses, all of them were soon talking together amicably happily. After a while, Urmila and Ashok return form their short walk and although they didn't say much, their faces were pleased with each other. As is meeting went very well, both families were pleased and a tacit agreement about the marriage was reached then and there.

Before many were over, the mach-maker came from the groom's house accompanied by a porter carrying the first wedding gifts consisting of a silver box, chased with auspicious religious symbols, which contained ten large areca nuts; a good embroidered sari, ribbons and glass bangles-all of bright red colour; flowers made of silver foil and a bouquet of real roses. All the members of areca nuts signified a formal agreement of marriage, which effectively led to the departure of beloved daughter to a desirable but a largely unknown destiny. Those most affected by it were Urmila and her aunt, who like sparrows caught in a man's hand fluttered helplessly. The mach-maker was treated to a repast and while everyone else passed comments, the gifts were handed over with due ceremony to Urmila by the senior-most lady of the family with a blessing, "may you enjoy along and happy marred life." Aunt Pramila felt heaviness in her own heart and unable to stand it any more, she went to her own room and stayed there for a long time.

From the day, Pramila's mind was torn up by conflicting thoughts. When a girl grew up, she got marred to a man left the home where she had been born and grown up. As far as she was concerned, the home was no longer her home, for she no longer enjoyed any real right there. Pramila had continued to live after her parents' death in her brother's house and being unmarred she had certain rights. She knew many girls who got married as they grew up and then had their own children; they return to their natal home only during festivals and on their social events. Very few women remained single and Pramila unconsciously heaved a deep sigh as she recalled her own poignant past. While she was still in school, proposals had been received from quit a number of eligible bachelors belonging to good families and her parents had wanted very much to arrange her marriage but she was adamant that she had to complete her education first. Her grandparents also tried to convince her to marry but she did not heed them either. While she continued wit her study, those who had sought her hand in marriage found other partners for she was not the only girl in the world. Pramila consequently remained single, much to her parents' sorrow. There was a proper time for everything and they had failed to do their duty for their daughter. When the matchmakers stopped coming, Pramila was glad that at last she was free to pursue her studies. She passed her high school examination, but in the net two higher examinations, she failed twice. Finally, she did her M.A., but by then her parents had died, their hope of seeing her settle down to a married life unfulfilled. After their death, Pramila couldn't help but think of her parents most of the time. Being a woman's nature and mind, Pramila's feelings and thoughts were confined to herself. There was no one to whom she could speak of her own physical wants psychological problem.

As the years went by, Pramila recovered her poise and when her niece was ready for her own marriage, she took a great deal of interest in the preparation for the wedding. She was excited as if it was her own marriage. She found herself thinking of her niece and the educated and handsome man she was going to marry, and hoped that his character was as good as his looks. She also thought of the brother and his wife, who lived together happily.

In the course of the preparation for a wedding, men have a comparatively easy task; they need only to get various articles and supplies from the market. The women's work never ended. Millet, for instance, had to be sent to be milled and then put through a long and tedious process of fermentation and distillation before it is turned into an alcoholic drink for the wedding feast. The big sal leaves had to be sewn together with bamboo splinters to make plates to serve food to hundreds of guests. All the women in the family occupied themselves day in and day out with endless chores but Pramila excused herself on the ground that she had to go to school. Pramila too went to a campus to teach and she had no time for domestic chores, except to drop in frequently and inquire how the other women were going about their tasks. However, on the two days that they were to distil the fermented millet, Pramila took leave from her teaching job and stayed home, assisting her sister-in-law to fill numerous earthen pots, jerricans and bottles with their home-made liquor, which, to their great satisfaction, turned out to be strong and effervescent.

Pramila was a capable and efficient woman. And so her brother depended much on her, seeking her advice on all matters. On her part, she had a deep affection for her brother. She gave him whatsoever she earned from her job as a teacher, except for a small amount which she saved in a bank, and he, in turn, made Pramila responsible for all the family expenses. For the wedding too they first took counsel together before asking other people for their suggestions and help. Pramila who used to be thrifty at other times, spent freely for her niece's wedding.

On her next visit, the matchmaker brought lakhamarhi, the large wedding cake, and displaying six plates, each containing four cakes, she said, in a normal tone, "there are twenty-four altogether." Everyone else in the house, except Urmila's gathered around the plates, all eyes on the huge cakes. Later, the names of relatives and friends were noted down and Urmila's father ordered some more of the same cake from a confectioner's and then they were sent, in whole or in pieces, to their relatives and friends.

Further gifts were received from the groom's house. This time they send many fruits of different varieties. The fruits too were distributed among their relatives and friends.

The preparation for the wedding culminated on the day of the feast, when hundreds of relatives and friends of the family were invited to Urmila's house. It was a day on which Pramila found herself busy as never before. As she kept the storeroom keys, she was constantly being sought by a dozen or more people engaged in serving the feast. At the same time she also received the guests as they arrived, and to each she said pleasantly, "Ah, you have come." Meeting with her, many of the guests said to themselves, "This woman is leading a forlorn life; she did not marry when her parents were alive," and they felt sorry for her although she appeared to have no regrets.

When the guests were seated row after row in two large courtyards, Pramila stepped into the room where her niece was dressing with the help of number of young girls. Such an occasion came but once in woman's lifetime and Pramila felt a shock as if she had touched a live wire. She couldn't but remind herself, "I have missed it." But just then, she had little time to feel sorry for herself, for someone called and reminded her that the curd was about to be served at the feast and so the wine jars have to be kept in readiness. In response, Pramila stepped out for a quick visit to the storeroom but she was soon back to watch the transformation of her niece into a bride. Talcum powder had made Urmila a shade lighter and her cheeks matched her lips, which were like the petals of a red rose. On her forehead she had a red sinha mark. In a dress that dazzled the eyes and with her golden ornaments Urmila appeared as gorgeous as a young goddess. There was about her the freshness of an early morning and the radiance of the rising sun. As Pramila pondered, she felt a strange sensation as if she had become a bride herself and she seemed to float about in the air.

When the wine was finally served at the feast and the bride was escorted down to the courtyard all those gathered in the room rushed to the window. Pramila also watched from the window at the scene below; with the bride now seated in a corner to receive the wedding presents and in turn give each guest ten areca nuts, suddenly there was a burst of greater animation in the courtyard.

Pramila saw her sister-in-law and two other ladies, dressed alike gorgeously, were pouring wine in a fine, sparkling spurt onto little clay saucers placed before each guest. And then, with a start, eat dawned upon her that these women were after all wives. Among the guests, dressed in their finest clothes and seated row after row, all the women were also wives one day. Those who had lost their husbands had their children and grand children with them. At the time of their own death, their children helped to cremate them-the son lighting the funeral pyre and the daughter assisting in other ways. Such then was the traditional concept of attaining salvation among human beings. Long after their death, people were remembered by their descendants at the shradha rituals.

As Pramila gazed wistfully, her eyes were filled with tears, which fell down in big drops, but none knew about it; all those gathered in the courtyards were having a good time, each in his or her own way.