Tears

Dr. M. Padmini Devi

(Translated from original Telugu by Vemaraju Narsimha Rao)

The bride was brought in ceremoniously in a basket by her uncle and others.

The groom and the bride were seated in their places. She had a golden complexion and was not even twenty.

The mismatched couple presented a dark contrast.

But, how could anyone help? Who was interested in the beauty of the bride, anyway? Without a proper bride price, how were the matches going to be fixed?

The people gathered in the pandal whispered-

“Why didn’t she run away somewhere instead of settling down for this marriage?” “Better, she avoided the marriage and worked somewhere for a living.”

Sita hung her head down. Not out of modesty, but with a heavy heart.

Raghunath had children already. The girl was aged twelve. The two sons were younger.

A twelve-year-old girl would certainly have felt what a ‘mother’ meant. She would have filled her heart with love for her. And she would certainly not be in a position to accept anyone else in the place of her mother.

How would the step-mother to be, be? Like a devil or a super devil? Born and specially meant for them?

Anger, disgust, vengeance and hatred - eyes full with these mixed feelings would be ready to welcome her.

Young children, in their innocence, would easily believe if they were told that God had sent them a new mother. Fed with love and affection and put to sleep…..with a lullaby, they would soon reciprocate.

But a twelve year old one- no, she would not. Her stare would accuse her, “You’ve swallowed my mother!” and with an angry look out to devour her.

With these thoughts in her mind, her back also began to bend, along with her head.

“They say that children should not be present at the father’s second marriage. That’s why they’re not here”, someone was heard saying.

The priest was chanting away the mantras and conducting the proceedings. Those were in Sanskrit. No one bothered what those really meant. And, whether he was reciting properly. Who cared?

Raghunath wanted a wife. Kamesam wanted to unload the burden of his unwed daughter.

Kamesam was washing the feet of the groom, while his wife, Manga, poured water, with tears in her eyes.

Sita did not raise her head. She already knew the mind of a young heart, about to welcome her step -mother, personally. But she knew then only that very instant, under what circumstances would a young girl, full of dreams and hopes for the future, would compromise to become a bride to a widower. And, what pain it caused.

Manga wiped her tears, swelling in the eyes.

Sita looked up once and downed her looks. Raghunath tied the sacred knot around her neck.

One had shed the load. Another had taken it on. With blessings being over, Sita became a house-wife.

She was a wife to Raghunath. But to his children, she was only a step-mother.

People in higher strata of society did not indulge in such marriages. Nor those, who had little respect for tradition. They were not overly obsessed with a daughter’s marriage. Only, those who lived a hand-to-mouth existence resorted to that.

She cursed herself, for not being able to run away from it all. “What a wretched life!”, she hated herself.

Kamesam was able to economise on the marriage by conducting it in his place, with a few of his relatives being present. They left soon after they had had dinner. The ceremonial handing over of the bride too was over.

As the moment of her departure for her in-law’s house arrived, she was bidding her friends and acquaintances good-bye.

Manga unobtrusively retreated inside the house, with tears in her eyes.

Sita entered the house slowly. That Manga was making an effort to contain her tears was evident from her flushed face and tightly pressed lower lip.

“Aunty!” her voice quivered.

“Sita!”, she cried, covering her face in her hands.

Sita could contain no more. She burst out and embraced her. And, rested her head in her bosom. Both cried unable to control their tears any longer.

Manga was the first to regain her composure.

She said sadly, “Sita! I had hoped that at least you would be luckier!”

“Aunty! I was stupid to have abused you, and treated you like a foe all along. I must have put you to a lot of trouble. But… Aunty, you’ve been very kind. You are really great, aunty dear! I could not understand you. Won’t you please forgive me?”

Crying still, she bent forward and touched her feet.

And, Manga blessed her with tears falling on her like pearls.

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