Authors: Sylvia Atkinson
Suleka told Margaret that Ben had travelled to school in that very cart but as soon as he was old enough he went on horseback, riding wildly, scaring his bearers who would have been punished if any harm had come to him.
Margaret commented, “He hasn’t changed.”
“It is his nature,” Suleka agreed, “My brother was spoiled and pampered by everyone at home. My father sent him away to school to try to correct his faults. We cried for days, especially my mother.”
Margaret couldn’t imagine her mother-in-law being moved to tears. Although she appeared to be old and cantankerous she was probably in her late forties. If there was any kindness in the woman Margaret hadn’t seen it. Suleka was the opposite.
“You see, Charuni,” she said, trying to explain her mother’s behaviour, “We have land and riches but my father aimed to raise the family higher. My brother was to become a doctor and be educated in the ways of the modern world. Hiten was chosen for Vartika because he is a lawyer and would eventually administer the estates. It worked well when my father was alive but now he is no more… and my mother…” She began to cry.
“Suleka, I am so sorry” Margaret said, “I didn’t know your family and culture would be as opposed to my marriage as mine was. My coming has ruined everything, including your marriage prospects.”
“Charuni, I’m not bothered by any delay to my marriage. On marriage freedom goes. You know in India a woman’s husband is her god. She submits to him, serves him and meets his every need. I am quite happy the day comes later.” Her merry laugh returned, “Indeed, I would not mind if it never came… but I must take a husband to protect me in this world.”
The women knew that the day would come and Suleka would have no choice but to consent. “You are brave, Charuni, you married my brother for love. I could not do such a thing.”
“But I have hurt so many people.”
Suleka didn’t deny it. “We came to know about you through a relative who was also studying in Edinburgh. He came home having completed his degree in engineering and told my mother that my brother was involved with a fellow student.”
Margaret asked candidly, “The telegram to bring Ben home… was your father really ill?”
“It had long been accepted that my brother would finish his education abroad. A suitable bride was chosen for him while he was very young and the necessary agreements made between the families. My father was unwell. His illness gave the excuse.”
“Did he know? I mean, your father.”
“He would not have associated himself with such a thing. In any event my mother was punished… my father had a heart attack.”
Margaret’s fleeting triumph turned to sorrow for her dear friend who clearly missed her father, “What possessed your brother to marry me when he had a wife already? Then to return and father a child…”
“Charuni, Indian men take a wife for all kinds of reasons, rarely for love. We do not know each other until after marriage and then, if we are fortunate, love grows. In his way, my brother loves you. My mother expected him to forget you when his desires were met at home… even after he began constructing the…”
“But he betrayed me!”
Margaret’s raised voice drew the attention of the bearers. Muni told them it was girl’s talk so they moved out of earshot.
Suleka put her hand reassuringly on her friend’s, “From what you have told me I think life in my country is very different from yours. Here the men are in charge and we women are answerable to them. We have to marry to be secure. Marriages are arrangements to promote families and provide children. As you have seen, wives enter their husband’s family and belong to them. It is not uncommon for a bride to be poisoned, smothered or burnt to death in a mysterious accident. You must have read in the newspaper. Brides disappear or suddenly die. It comes to light when the girl’s family asks to see her and can be many months after the wedding.
“Brides who fail to deliver suitable dowries or provide sons are at great risk; more so when they are disliked, or disapproved of. Be glad that Sati has been outlawed or we could find ourselves riding with our dead husband to be burnt alive on his funeral pyre.”
“Oh Suleka, the very country goes against me!”
How could Suleka explain these things? It was as it was. “To be a woman in India is a precarious business. I ask you to take pity and be tolerant of my brother’s first wife. My mother chose her. If you drive her away what will become of her and her daughter? You would be made to pay for such a thing. Your family are far away and my brother is not always at home. As long as he loves you, and is by your side, you will be protected. Let us pray you have a son… God willing I will always be here to help you.”
Suleka’s timely warning confirmed that Margaret’s fear was not irrational. Ben was often at his clinic; moreover there was talk that the British had invited him to join the army. She was safe until the baby was born. But after that who knows? In the blinking of an eye her life could be snuffed out. She resolved to redouble her effort to gain visible status and recognition outside Aakesh.
Ben’s mother advised Margaret to drink slightly salted lassi, saying it was a coolant in the summer and good for the baby. Margaret was sceptical but it proved to be the case. The creamy yogurt drink was delicious and quite addictive especially when made with ripe mangoes. She sipped it in the shadow of the balcony, mulling over whether to invite the wives of British residents to tea. If Ben had been asked to join the army there ought to be some positive response.
A cloud of dust rose up from the road caused by a troop of mounted soldiers escorting a car. The outriders wheeled into the drive in perfect formation. Margaret recognised the vehicle as belonging to the Collector, the British official charged with managing land and district taxes for the government. She went to meet him in the receiving room of the main house where she found him respectfully talking to Ben’s mother, who presented Margaret.
“Mrs Atrey, do forgive my unannounced arrival but I was in the area and took the opportunity to call in person. My wife would have asked you to tea but she is frightfully busy these days and unfortunately I’ve been in Delhi.”
“Then perhaps you would take tea with me?”
Margaret said cordially. “It will allow me to show you the English House. My husband built it for me and is very proud of it.”
“I’m afraid it will have to be some other time,” he replied bowing to Ben’s mother. Margaret was sorry she hadn’t changed into English clothes but he sat while servants brought water and snacks. A fellow Scot, they spoke of Edinburgh and their home country.
“Mrs Atrey, you realise that your husband is greatly respected and an accomplished doctor.”
“Naturally we are delighted,” Margaret replied diplomatically.
Somewhat caught out the Collector admitted, “I don’t know if this has ever happened before… I’m not certain how it will work out in practice.” Clearing his throat he added, “You should be able to attend social functions but I’m not certain of the protocol. I have asked my wife to check out the situation. Women are so much better at these things than men.”
Margaret managed to keep a pleasant expression. The Collector had a duty towards her but the rest of the women in Ben’s aristocratic family didn’t move in British circles.
The short visit officially recognised her status, however
it also infuriated her. She was being politely warned to stay away from the social scene until ‘her situation’ was cleared. She would wait and see what happened. At the
moment no one would respond to an invitation to tea at
Aakesh.
* * * * *
Each morning at sunrise Margaret offered water to the gods and performed Puja in the family shrine. Suleka took her to the local temple which was a racket of tambourines, drums and cymbals. The burning incense and rhythmic chanting of the priests brought the same peace Margaret had experienced at Mass. She prayed for safekeeping and the birth of a son. Outwardly a devout
Hindu, she exchanged Catholicism for earthly survival and,
to atone for her sins, fearlessly distributed food and alms
to the dozens of beggars crowding the temple precinct. A
memsahib performing rites and prayers in a Hindu temple was unheard of, attracting pilgrims who donated gifts and
money.
The tardy monsoon took its toll. Leaves drooped limply from the trees. The very air scorched the ground locking Margaret indoors. Temple servants enquired daily after her health at the main house, much to the annoyance of its occupants.
A purple blackened sky heralded the breaking of the weather. The deluge veiled the landscape. Margaret and Pavia danced on the balcony lifting their faces up to catch rain. Muni scuttled indoors to sort out woollen shawls for the changing season. In the merriment Ben arrived soaking wet, calling for a bath.
* * * * *
Margaret changed seats. Perspiration drenched her. Muni fanned, pankah-wallahs fanned, water was brought, lassi was brought but, bigger with this pregnancy, sitting, standing, and lying, day or night there was no rest for Margaret.
Ben diagnosed that the baby was in a good position, with the head engaged. He said, “Charuni you are so huge there’s no room for me,” and took to sleeping in his own apartments.
This made her feel like an enormous elephant and permanently crotchety. “I know your first wife and child live in the main house and you have a duty to them…” Ben made as if he was going to say something but changed his mind. Goading him to answer she said, “I ask you not to take your pleasure there and that they do not come into my presence.”
“Charuni, a man cannot always control where he takes his pleasure! I have not availed myself of her since you arrived in India. Be satisfied to be my true love.”
She wanted to believe him but it would always be like this, the uncertainty, unless of course she gave birth to a son.
The next day was brightened by the arrival of a letter from her mother. Margaret read some of it aloud to Suleka:
“We
have
such
a
lovely
scene,
the
view
from
the
kitchenette
window
across
the
fields.
I
never
tire
of
looking
out
at
odd
moments.
It
is
always
changing,
sometimes
horses
and
sheep
and
today
some
beautiful
cows.
They
are
kept
so
nice
and
clean.
I
enjoy
feasting
my
eye
on
two
or
three
shades
of
green
and
gold,
the
corn
and
the
grass,
the
cottage
in
the
distance
but
I
am
quite
satisfied
watching
the
onions,
potatoes
and
lettuce
all
coming
up
so
nicely
and
in
good
order.
You
know
what
your
father
is
for
order.
Well
you
can
picture
what
the
garden
looks
like.
I
can’t
think
of
any
more
now
but
I
would
love
to
see
your
bananas
and
peaches
growing.”
“Your mother sounds quite poetic, I wish one day to meet her, but Scotland is so very far away.”
Margaret replied wistfully, “It is.”
* * * * *
The traditional protection for the mother and unborn child held sway over modern foreign ideas. Ben’s mother arranged for a special birth chamber to be set up without windows. Margaret would be confined indoors to prevent evil spirits harming her or the unborn child. She agreed to the latter but being incarcerated in the main house was more terrifying than defying Ben’s mother. She persuaded Ben that a room with a small window at the back of their quiet house would make the birth easier. Medically he couldn’t see it made any difference but agreed. Luckily the bed was placed in an auspicious position so it didn’t have to be moved.