Surangi, The Child Bride

Part 2

Having covered a reasonable distance the family halted in a village en route. This was a purposeful deviation, the place was renowned for its Jagrut Devasthaan or Temple of a Living Goddess where devotees invoked the deity for her powerful blessings. It was considered particularly auspicious for newly-weds to pay their obeisance there to ensure a happy married life and to be blessed with desired offspring. The family got off from the ox-carts, carrying with them the essentials for worship. They filed into the shrine for the Darshan. Surangi and Madhav were escorted, still in their wedding finery including their mundavlya- strings of pearls tied across their foreheads to frame their faces- an instantly recognisable sign that they were just wedded. Surangi passed the offering of  a 9 yard saree and bodice cloth, a coconut with its tuft facing the idol, rice grains, incense sticks and a magnolia flower wreath called weni, to the priest.

On the elder's instructions she joined her palms together in prayer, causing her chooda of green glass and gold bangles to clink. Madhav stood next to her with his palms folded similarly. The priest asked for the names of the couple and other family details before making a formal invocation called garhana seeking blessings for the couple and the family while the devotees intermittently voiced the refrain of 'hoye maharaja' or 'yes Lord'. The priest then placed back part of the offerings to Surangi who received them in the ornate end of her saree. "Make sure you use this coconut in a sweet recipe, and have the family share it. Your parents named you Surangi after the fragrant, rare flower but now that you are married they will give you a new name to start your life as a bride and daughter-in-law. May your family have health and prosperity and may you bring forth many children!" The priest blessed the young couple and they bowed to offer their respects.

While the others explored the shrine going around it, Surangi excused herself and sat down on a raised platform in the outer courtyard of the temple. She thought about what the priest had said to her about being given a new name on becoming Madhav's wife. Although she knew such a custom existed she became sad with its prospect because she was quite fond of her name, her mother having chosen it specially after her favourite flower. Her mother would say one can pick up the fragrance of a surangi tree in bloom from half a kilometre away if the breeze was blowing in the right direction, making the girl feel proud. Why do girls have to give everything up after marrying, she asked herself. It was just a few hours since she had left her father and other relatives and she was already missing her deceased mother, her home and her village terribly.

"Don't you have any sense at all?" Surangi did not need to turn around to guess who the voice belonged to, it had to be the most irritating boy in the world who had married her that morning. "What did I do?" She asked him blandly. ""You are sitting under a Pimpal (sacred fig tree) at dusk. Don't you know these are known to be haunts of Munja ghosts?" He was really beginning to annoy her. "I have no clue about what you just said." She replied. " A Munja is the ghost of some Brahmin youth who dies after his thread-ceremony and before sodmunj or thread-loosening. He generally lives in a Pimpal tree and likes to attack women whom he mistreats, sometimes scorching them with fire, or even making them barren." He explained what he had heard. "How absurd is that?" She exclaimed, only to be dragged away from the place by her arm. "You stupid girl, maybe you don't care, but I want to have children when I am older. So come along, we are leaving right now." He fulminated.

"'Agyaa Vetaal kuthla", Surangi muttered to herself, calling Madhav a fiery evil spirit, but not daring to say the words aloud. She thought a Munja would surely be nicer than him. Her father was a gentle soul and since she had no brother of her own she had little experience with boys of her age or older, all her friends were girls. She wondered if all husbands were meant to obnoxious when they were boys, praying that at least her mother-in-law would turn out to be compassionate, unlike her son. They were staying in with a Brahmin family not far from the temple precinct; who made food and board available for pilgrims for a nominal price. After they freshened up by the well the family were served dinner, the men, including Madhav, his father and uncle sitting in the outer room while Madhav's kaki (aunt) and Surangi ate in the spacious kitchen. They were served piping hot rice topped with pithley or tempered chickpea flour porridge, kelphool bhaji which was made of plantain blossom, grated carrot relish and shevaya or vermicelli kheer. Having barely had any lunch had made Surangi feel famished, she even took extra helpings.

Dinner over, they prepared to sleep early as they had to start at dawn the next day. The men and women were given separate rooms. Surangi knew this was a good time to ask Sharayu kaki her doubts as the men, especially Madhav, were out of earshot. "Kaku, may I ask you something?" She hesitated. "Bol na, kay vicharaychey?" Sharayu kaki asked her encouragingly. "Is it true that my name will be changed once we get there?" Surangi whispered. "That is up to Madhav, they usually do because you discard the vestiges of your old life and make a fresh start, my own name was Vasanti, but it was changed to Sharayu." She explained. "What should I expect there, will I be able to continue school, or will I just have to indulge in household chores?" Surangi asked diffidently, wondering if she had said too much. Sharayu kaki smiled sensing her anxiety. 

"Well, all I can tell you is that things will not be as bad as you are imagining right now. Vahini (sister-in-law, referring to Madhav's mother) is a gem of a person. She will have a say in how things turn out for you. You can convince her if you wish to. Now go off to sleep, we have to rise early tomorrow." She blew out the lamp, signalling the end of conversation. As Surangi clutched her sandalwood doll she had hidden in her sari she hoped her life would be easier than she had imagined, based on old wives' tales about how a marriage signified the end of carefree existence of a girl's life, being dictated by the values and whims of elders in her marital home. Sharayu kaki had said that Madhav's mother was a kind-hearted person, but she did not mention Madhav's widowed paternal grandmother. Surangi wondered why.