She always tried to divert Chaubeyji’s mind. She never allowed him to sit depressed. Chaubeyji did not find any interest in the court any more. He would come back home after spending only an hour or two there. The love of youngsters is characterized by restlessness, and the love of the elderly by devotion. They try to compensate their lack of youth with flattery, sweet talk and their ready wit.
Chaubeyji visited his in-laws about three months after Mangala died. The mother-in-law was earnestly waiting for his arrival. She had two sons. They did not have any means to bring them up and educate them. Mangala was also dead. Once her own daughter got married, she’d also be busy with her own household. And then there would be no contact with Chaubeyji. She was convinced that once Chaubeyji came it’d be like God descending on His own to give them boons.
When Chaubeyji lay down after his meal the mother-in-law said, ‘Bhaiya, have there been any proposals for marriage?’
‘Now, what proposals do you expect for my marriage?’
‘Why, bhaiya, you’re not that old!’
‘Even if I want to, I cannot do it for fear of infamy. And anyway, who is going to consider me for marriage?’
‘There are thousands. Why search outside when you have a girl sitting right in your own house. I heard that you gave away Mangala’s ornaments to Binni. If she gets married elsewhere, they will be lost to you forever. Where will I get a better house than yours? If you accept her, then I will be obliged.’
What does the blind desire but eyesight! It was as if Chaubeyji was forced to accede to the prayers of his mother-in-law.6
Binni was sitting with her mother in a mud house in her parental village. Chaubeyji had kept an errand girl at her service. Both the younger brothers of Vindheshwari were looking at her ornaments in wonder. Many other women from the village had also come to see her and they were amazed at her beauty and charm. Was this the same Binni who used to play wearing a thick faria! Her beauty and complexion had become so polished! This is what prosperity does to you!
When the crowd dispersed, the mother asked, ‘Your bhaiyaji is keeping well, isn’t he, beti! He had come here but he was very sad. Mangala’s grief is eating him away. There are such men in the universe after all who give away their lives for their wives. Otherwise, more often than not, as soon as the wife dies, the man gets married again. It’s almost as if the man waits for his wife to die so he can bring a new one home!’
Vindheshwari said, ‘He is still mourning her. I’ve come here but God knows how he is doing!’
‘I am afraid that once you get married he might turn an ascetic or a monk and renounce the world.’
‘I have the same fear. That’s why I have told him that I’m in no hurry to get married.’
‘The more you take care of him, the more affection he will have for you; and your departure will be a greater cause of grief to him. Beti, the truth is that he lives because of you. The moment you leave him his house will be ruined. If I were in your place, I would marry him.’
‘Drive away that thought, Amma, why are you cursing me? He has brought me up like a daughter. I consider him as my father—’
‘Shut up, you mad girl! Your saying this will make no difference!’
‘Just think about it, Amma. It is so odd.’
‘I don’t see anything odd in this!’
‘What are you saying, Amma, I should get . . . I will die of shame, I won’t be able to face him. He won’t agree to it either. The proposal sounds so strange.’
‘I take responsibility for him. I will get his consent. You just agree to it. Just remember, this is no marriage of convenience, it is a question of the survival of the only person in the universe who is concerned about us. And he is not even that old yet. He must be two years or so above fifty. He had consulted an astrologer too. He had seen his horoscope and said that his life span is about seventy years. A man like him will be rare to find.’
The mother’s argument was so clever that the naive girl could not set herself free from the web of words. Her mother already knew that the magic of greed would not work on her. She did not even mention things like wealth, ornaments, prestige or prosperity. In the end Vindheshwari said, ‘Amma, I know that he will not be able to bear my separation. I also know that happiness is not in my fate. All right, for his good I am ready to sacrifice my life. If this is what God wills then so be it.’7
Chaubeyji’s house was buzzing with auspicious songs. Vindheshwari had come today as a bride into the house. Many years ago she had come as a daughter.
Chaubeyji today was a worthy sight. A colourful tanzeb kurta, a well-trimmed and nicely combed moustache, brightly dyed hair, a smiling face, and intoxicating eyes—he had all the airs of youth.
The night had come to an end. Vindheshwari, laden with ornaments and wearing a heavy bridal dress, was sitting on the floor with her head lowered. She had no excitement, no fear; she only wondered how she would open her mouth in front of him. I’ve played sitting on his lap; I’ve mounted his shoulders, I’ve rode on his back, how will I show my face to him? But why should I think of the past? May
