All's Well That End's Well.
Every good Hindu feels bound to get his daughter or sister, as the
case may be, married before she attains puberty. Rich people find
little difficulty in securing suitable matches for their girls; but
Babu Jadunath Basu, widely known as "Jadu Babu," was not blessed with
a large share of this world's goods; and his sister Basumati was close
on her teens. The marriage-broker had certainly suggested more than
one aspirant for her hand, but they were not to Jadu Babu's liking. As
years rolled by, his anxiety deepened into despair. A match was at
length offered which was passably good, although it did not answer
Jadu Babu's expectations. He learnt from private inquiry that the boy
proposed bore a good character, never mixed with doubtful associates,
and had no constitutional defect. Hindu parents are very careful to
ascertain the health of a suitor, and should they suspect any inherited
disease, such as consumption, they reject him remorselessly. It must
not be supposed that such lads are always doomed to celibacy, for
their unsoundness may be hidden or counterbalanced by a substantial
money payment.
Jadu Babu found out that the boy had matriculated at Calcutta and
was attending the second year class at a Metropolitan College; more
important still, his father, Amarendra Babu, had money invested in
Government paper, besides a substantial brick house--qualifications
which augured well for his sister's wedded happiness. The next step
was to invite his own father, Kumodini Babu, to come from Benares and
help him to clinch matters. The old man pleaded that he had done with
the world and all its vanities; so Jadu Babu had to make a pilgrimage
to the Holy City, where he induced Kumodini Babu to return home with
him. Three days later the pair went to Calcutta with two friends,
in order to make the suitor's acquaintance. They were welcomed by
Amarendra Babu, who at once sent for his son. The boy came in with
eyes fixed on the ground and shyly took a seat near Kumodini Babu. He
underwent a severe scrutiny, and at last the old man broke silence
by asking the lad his name. Being informed that it was Samarendra
Nath, he inquired the names of his father and grandfather, which were
promptly given.
"Good boy," observed Kumodini Babu, "the times are so completely
out of joint that youths are ashamed to, utter their father's name,
let alone their grandfather's. Where are you studying?"
"At the Metropolitan Institution," was the reply.
"An excellent college," said Kumodini Babu; then after a whispered
consultation with Jadu Babu, he said, "I am delighted with Samarendra's
modesty and good manners, and have no objection whatever to giving
my daughter to him in marriage--provided Prajapati (the Lord of
All) causes no hitch". Samarendra thought that his ordeal was over,
but he was mistaken. One of Kumodini Babu's friends, who happened
to be a Calcutta B.A., would not lose the opportunity of airing his
superior learning.
"What are your English text-books?" he asked.
"Blackie's Self-culture, Helps' Essays, Milton's Paradise Lost,
and Tennyson's Enoch Arden," gabbled Samarendra in one breath.
"Very good, now please fetch your Paradise Lost."
The boy disappeared, returning shortly with a well-thumbed volume,
which the B.A. opened and selected Satan's famous apostrophe to the Sun
for explanation. Samarendra was speechless. After waiting for a minute,
the B.A. asked what text-book he studied in physics and was told that
it was Ganot's Natural Philosophy. He asked Samarendra to describe
an electrophone, whereon the lad began to tremble violently. Kumodini
Babu had pity on his confusion and told him to run away. Needless to
say he was promptly obeyed.
It has become a Calcutta custom for possible fathers-in-law to
cross-examine suitors on their text-books; but few boys are able to
satisfy the test, however brilliant their acquirements may be. Poor
Samarendra was too overwhelmed with the strangeness of his position
to do himself justice.
When the elder folks were quite alone they plunged into
business. Kumodini Babu sounded his host as to dena paona (settlements)
on either side; but the latter courteously left them entirely to his
discretion. It was settled that Basumati's pákká dekhá (betrothal)
should be celebrated on 12th November at Kumodini Babu's, and that
of Samarendra's at his father's, two days later.
Basumati being an only daughter, Kumodini Babu determined to conduct
her marriage on a magnificent scale. In anticipation of the betrothal
feast, he brought three Brahman cooks from Calcutta to prepare
curries, pillaos and sweetmeats under the supervision of the ladies
of his household.
At length the auspicious day came round. At 5 P.M. Amarendra Babu,
with half a dozen friends, arrived at Kumodini Babu's house from
Calcutta. They were received with great courtesy and conducted to
seats, where a plentiful supply of tobacco and betel awaited them. At
half-past seven, Jadu Babu presented the bride-elect to her future
family. She looked charming in a Parsi shawl and Victoria jacket,
decked out with glittering jewels, and sat down near Amarendra Babu,
after saluting him respectfully. He took up some dhán, durba and
chandan (paddy, bent grass and sandal-wood paste) and blessed her,
presenting her at the same time with a gold chur (bracelet). After
again saluting him, the timid girl was led back to the inner
apartments. Then the guests were taken to a large hall where supper
was ready for their delectation. Full justice was done to the repast;
and after it was over, they washed their hands in the yard and smoked
or chewed betel in perfect bliss until half-past ten. Then Amarendra
Babu asked leave to return by the last train, declining hospitality
for the night on the plea of previous engagements. While saying
"good-bye" he called Jadu Babu aside and thrust Rs. 30 into his
hands, to be distributed among the guru (spiritual guide), purohit
(family priest), and servants. Two days afterwards, Kumodini Babu
and his son went to Calcutta for the boy's betrothal. He blessed
Samarendra, presenting him with a gold mohur (an obsolete coin worth
sixteen rupees) besides Rs. 50 for the priest and servants of his
household. A feast followed on the same scale as the previous one.
Kumodini Babu's family priest decided that Ásár 28th would be a lucky
day for the wedding, which was to be held at the bride's great-uncle's
house in Calcutta. Early on the 26th, the Gaihálud (turmeric smearing)
ceremony took place. Amarendra Babu rubbed his son's body with a
mixture of turmeric and oil and despatched a supply to Kumodini
Babu by his own barber, with injunctions to have it applied to his
daughter's person before 9 A.M., because subsequent hours would be
inauspicious. On the barber's arrival, the ladies of Kumodini Babu's
household anointed Basumati with turmeric and oil and clad her in a
gorgeous wrapper. Then they conducted her to another room where a jánti
(instrument for cracking betel-nuts) was given her and certain nitkits
(minor ceremonies) were performed.
At 11 A.M. the presents given on the occasion of the turmeric-smearing
(gaihálud) were brought by twenty servants who were regaled with a
feast made ready in anticipation of their arrival. After partaking
of it they were dismissed with a largesse of one rupee each. During
the next two days presents continued to pour in from relatives of
both families.
At length the fateful 28th Ásár dawned, bringing a mighty commotion
in the respective houses. Shouts and laughter echoed from every
side. Amarendra Babu had resolved to marry his son in a style which,
sooth to say, was far above his means, hoping to recoup himself from
the large cash payment which he expected from Kumodini Babu. On his
side the latter had consulted relatives as to the proper dowry. All
agreed that Rs. 2,000 worth of ornaments; Rs. 1,001 in cash; Rs. 500
for Barabharan (gifts to a bridegroom); and Rs. 500 for Phúlsajya
(lit. a bed of flowers) would be sufficient. Thus Kumodini Babu
provided Rs. 4,001 and imagined that he was acting generously.
At 7.30 P.M. the bridegroom's procession was formed. A Sub-Inspector
of Police and three constables led the way, followed by a band of
music. Next came a carriage and four conveying Samarendra, his younger
brother, and the family priest. Carriages belonging to Amarendra Babu's
friends, and some hired ones full of invited guests, brought up the
rear. When a start was made, the little police force hustled vehicles
out of the way and even stopped tram-cars when necessary; while the
band tortured selections from Handel and Beethoven to the intense
delight of passers-by, many of whom paused to criticise shortcomings
in the procession among themselves. In about an hour it reached its
destination, where Kumodini Babu's uncle received the guests. The
family barber carried Samarendra in his arms to a chair which had
been provided for him. There he sat with eyes fixed steadily on the
ground, while his friends squatted round and cracked jokes at his
expense. He smiled, but modestly implored them not to put him out of
countenance. The Lagna (auspicious time) was determined to be 9.30;
meanwhile the guests sat on carpets or chairs, beguiling the delay
with hookahs.
While mirth was at its height, strange things were happening in a
private room adjoining. Soon after arriving, Amarendra Babu asked
Kumodini Babu and Jadunath to display the presents destined for the
young couple. They took him into a room where all were set forth to the
best advantage. After examining them in silence awhile, Amarendra Babu
kicked the nearest contemptuously aside, remarking that they were "mere
rubbish". In point of fact he fully expected Kumodini Babu to give
Rs. 4,000 in cash, Rs. 2,000 in respect of Barabharan and Phulsajya
and Rs. 4,000 worth of jewellery--Rs. 10,000 in all. To judge by the
ornaments shown him, the total dowry would be barely half as much and
he could not help expressing disappointment. On asking Kumodini Babu
what he intended paying down in cash, and learning that Rs. 1,001 was
all he could afford, Amarendra Babu's indignation knew no bounds. He
demanded Rs. 5,000, declaring that if it were not paid on the nail,
he would take his son away! The wretched father implored twelve hours'
delay, but was told in as many words that his promise could not be
relied on. The deadlock soon got wind, and Amarendra Babu's action was
severely commented on by the guests, but he remained obdurate. Kumodini
Babu's uncle ran to a wealthy acquaintance for a loan of Rs. 4,000,
but was told that so large a sum was not available at short notice. On
his return, Amarendra Babu delivered his ultimatum--Rs. 4,000 cash to
be paid forthwith; and finding that it was hopeless to expect so much,
he hailed a cab, hurried Samarendra into it, and drove home in high
dudgeon, followed by all his relatives and friends. This unexpected
calamity brought mourning into a house of mirth; people spoke in
whispers; and anguish left its mark on every face.
Shám Babu was supervising the Hálûikars (confectioners) when the
awful news reached his ears. For a few minutes he stood transfixed
to the spot; but ere long a happy thought struck him. He clapped his
hands in silent glee, and ran to an inner room, where Kumodini Babu
lay groaning on the bare floor, guarded by his son who feared that
he would do something rash.
"Mahásay," he said soothingly. "Do not take on like this! God's
ways are inscrutable; perchance He has broken the match off for your
daughter's good."
"Yes, God's will be done," replied Kumodini Babu in sepulchral
tones. "We are but His instruments." Then after a pause he added,
"What I dread most is loss of caste".
"Who will dare to excommunicate you for such a trifle?" asked Shám
Babu indignantly.
"Alas, you know too well that my family's position in society is
terribly compromised. A marriage postponed is a marriage lost!" groaned
Kumodini Babu.
"But why should it be postponed?" was Sham Babu's eager question. "I
have a proposal to make, if you will only give it a moment's thought."
Kumodini Babu looked up, and a ray of hope dried his tears; he waited
anxiously for further particulars.
"You know my son Susil, I suppose? He is just sixteen and has passed
the Entrance Examination."
"Yes, yes," answered Kumodini Babu. "He is a fine lad, obedient and
well-mannered. But what has he got to do with our present fix?"
"Will you give your daughter to him in marriage? I will not ask a
single pice as dowry."
Kumodini Babu sprang to his feet and embraced Shám Babu with fervour,
saying, "You have saved my life. Personally, I should be delighted
to have Susil as a son-in-law, but you must let me consult my son
and wife." He ran to the inner apartments, and communicated Shám
Babu's offer to his near relatives. This unexpected solution of the
dilemma filled them with surprise; and a loud clamour of voices echoed
through the house. Finally all, without exception, agreed that the
match would be an excellent one. Kumodini Babu brought news of its
acceptance to Shám Babu, and it spread among the wedding guests,
who were loud in their praises of his true Hindu spirit.
Shám Babu went into the courtyard where Susil sat talking with some
other boys about the astounding piece of good fortune which awaited
him. That he, the son of a humble clerk, should espouse the daughter
of a Zemindar was more than his wildest dreams had anticipated. He
joyfully accompanied Shám Babu to a room, where he was clad in silken
attire, and thence to the hall, where he was solemnly inducted into
the empty bridegroom's chair amid the acclamations of the assembled
guests. As the Lagna (auspicious time) had not run out the actual
marriage ceremony began forthwith. Basumati was given away by her
father; while the ladies performed Satpák (lit. going round seven
times--a ceremony without which a Hindu marriage is not binding) and
other minor ceremonies with zest. After all had been well and duly
gone through, the bride and bridegroom were conducted to an inner
apartment. Susil underwent the customary "chaff" from the ladies,
which he bore with great good humour and was at last left alone with
his young companion for life; while some of the fair guests sang
wedding songs to the intense delight of their friends. Nor were the
men-folk idle. They sat down to a sumptuous feast prepared for the
recreant bridegroom's family, nor did they separate till daybreak.
At 3 P.M. on the morrow Shám Babu took Sasil and Basumati to his own
home, where the Bau-Bhát ceremony was performed in grand style. It
was attended by all their caste-fellows, who were loud in extolling
his magnanimity. Shám Babu accepted their praises meekly, remarking
that he had done nothing more than his duty, by neglecting which he
would have rendered himself accountable to God.