When Haren came to speak to her father the first time, Rukmini hadn't even been sure if she could entrust him with her life - no, not even in her dreams. Yet her mind had been in a state of utter bewilderment, and an inexplicable elation had seemed to surge through every fibre of her being. And it had suddenly seemed natural that she should save all her love and affection for this man whom they called Haren. She tried in vain to catch a fleeting glimpse of his face through the open window. Then she recalled that she hadn't swept the cowshed yet. Maybe she could use this as a pretext to walk across the courtyard now, past Haren who was seated there. But her nerves failed her, and all she could do was walk from the bedroom to the door. Rukmini's ears burned with a strange, unknown sensation. Embarrassed, she hesitated. Deuta was also sitting there, what would he think of her? No, no, she wouldn't go.
For the second time, Rukmini retraced her steps from the door. But then, the gentleman would not keep sitting there forever, would he? Her mother had offered to make him a cup of tea but he had declined. Rukmini's sharp ears had caught that bit quite clearly. She tried pressing her ears against the walls to catch bits of the conversation, but soon became impatient and tired. Deuta spoke so softly, he was barely audible! The sheer force of her emotions seemed to have arrested her hearing ability too.
Oh no! Soon it would be time for him to leave. What should she do?... Rukmini peered through the cracks between the wattles of the peeling, mud walls of the bedroom. Now the hazy yet mesmerizing aura of his face seemed to beckon her. She tucked her sador tighter over her bosom and biting her lips, stood like a lifeless doll. Finally, she resolved not to step out into the. courtyard. Instead, she would try once again, and harder, to eavesdrop on the conversation. Rukmini again strained to listen to the honey sweet words. This time too she was disappointed. Too softly... those words were spoken too softly!
As the gentleman rose to leave, Rukmini's spirits fell. Even if for a brief while, her world seemed barren and tumultuous.
Later, when she was about to prepare lunch, she heard her father tell her mother, "See to it that word doesn't spread. Nowadays it doesn't take long for people to break up an alliance."
Rukmini could not help thinking that her father had wanted her to hear his words. Those words pierced the core of her heart. One by one, remembrances of past incidents began to assail her mind. Apprehension shot through the elation that had swept her like turbulent monsoon waves a few moments ago. How could she ever forget? The number of times she-- like a devotee, in silken attire and holding an offering of betel nuts-- had stood in front of many a man, each time in the delusion that they would be her saviour. But what did they do? They had rejected her and insulted her, each time etching an indelible scar on her mind.
Rukmini began to clear up the used cups and plates in an effort to rid her mind of those memories. By the time she started daubing the courtyard with mud and cowdung paste she was engrossed in an altogether different line of thought. The hazy face of that man who had, a while ago, sat on this very courtyard now seemed to beckon her. Could a person's beckoning be so appealing and beautiful? wondered Rukmini, her hand pausing in its semi-circular motion.
It was a matter of a few days now. This time she would finally go to him... Should she confide in her dear friend Bokul? For, if she did not tell Bokul, won't her happiness remain incomplete? As she coated the base of the last pillar in the courtyard with the paste, her desire to be near Bokul began to overwhelm her. Bokul, who was the only person in this world, besides another, whom Rukmini considered her true well-wisher. The other was Boiragi.
Rukmini picked up her bucket and placed it in a corner of the cowshed. There were beads of perspiration on her forehead. Today, as always, even the slightest work, made her tired and uncomfortable, thanks to her corpulent frame. There were times when she desperately wished she were as lissome as Bakul ! How much she had tried to shed some of that extra weight! She had refrained from eating that extra morsel, worked herself to the bone and said a thousand prayers to god that she would become slender and alluring. But all her efforts hadn't been able to grant her ardent wish.
By now she was almost immune to the taunts of people, habituated as she was to hearing them. But at times when those lovelorn youths who walked past her gave her the same uncharitable looks, Rukmini's heart would sink.
Then again she would chide herself Why was she allowing such thoughts into her mind now? Surely her time would come! The almighty's blessing would always be with her. Yet... maybe if she had been just a little more attractive she could have perhaps got more attention from that gentleman.
And her name? Why did her mother name her Rukmini? In her mind's eye she beheld the glamorous frame of another Rukmini, incomparably beautiful and dazzlingly enchanting. The other day Boiragi had sung the Rukmini-Haran verses so melodiously that a few lines remained in a corner of her heart even today,
What can I say about her abundant beauty?
The moon hides himself at the sight of her fair face.
And, beholding her bewitching eyes,
The shy lotus slips into the waters.
Would anyone, after hearing about the glorious beauty of Rukmini, Krishna's consort, ever wish to see this Rukmini's face? Wanting to keep her disturbing thoughts at bay, Rukmini turned to her loom to work on a motif that had gone awry.
The moment she stood near Bokul, all those resolutions she had made about not telling her, at least not till a few days before the wedding, began to waver before Bokul's familiar, open hearted laugh and her irresistibly charming words. And Rukmini told her everything, holding nothing back.
Stunned, Bokul sat stock still through the narrative. But the moment Rukmini finished talking, she pinched her cheeks and giggled, "This time there's no stopping you! But you won't forget us, will you?"
In a playful display of anger Rukmini made faces at Bokul and grabbed BokuI's baby to her bosom. Bokul busied herself in the kitchen, entertaining her friend with anecdotes about her marital life at the same time. Rukmini felt a surge of warmth well up in her for the woman caught up in the joys and sorrows of familial life.
Bokul asked her, "So the man is a bus driver! Well... sounds all right. Though it could be dangerous at times."
A look at Rukmini's widening eyes perhaps made her realize she ought not to have said that. She hastily added, "Whatever the almighty does is for one's own good. Otherwise, why now, after such a long time...?"
Bokul's thoughts wandered back to her own little world – her family. "You know, Rukmini, we like to believe that if people are unwavering in their affections, they can always live in peace. It was this love and affection- that I had for Bijoy. But things don't often remain the same."
It was true. It was this defeat of love at the hands of the demands of marital life that had wounded Bokul for quite some time now. And it was in moments like this that her revulsion towards life grew stronger.
Rukmini did not respond. With a bit of caution and expertise in driving, everything would be fine, she assured herself.
That night Rukmini lay sleepless on the mat, remembering that first day when Haren had spoken to her father. It was as a consequence of that day that there was this excitement, this newness today. That meant this time she was indeed going to be a bride!
No, no. It sounded too good to be true! Hadn't she, five years ago, relinquished all hopes? Then why was she getting excited all over again now? A sweet smile spread over Rukmini's lips at this wave of sheer disbelief that seemed to get the better of her. Unlike other days, today she no longer felt like wallowing in depressing thoughts. The memory of a sweet, endearing face seemed to float in front of her eyes. She buried her face in her pillow and tried to sleep. For the first time Rukmini felt a wave of tenderness towards her body-- the body she had always thought was accursed by god himself Just one more month to go... Yes, in a month's time she would become the dear, beloved and faithful wife of Haren the Driver.
A driver - not exactly the kind of job she would have liked her husband to be doing. She would have preferred something like what Bokul's husband did - work as a bookkeeper with some landholder. But Rukmini decided to take everything in her stride. After all, certain things in life were predestined.
How did Deuta come across this sweet looking man? Rukmini mused. Suddenly she recalled a conversation between Boiragi and her father a long time ago.
They had been sitting by a fire, talking in serious tones about her marriage. Rukmini had, on the pretext of putting firewood in the courtyard, tried to listen. She had heard the word "Driver" clearly. In a sudden rush of gratitude, she felt like touching Boiragi's feet. Since her childhood she had grown to respect this man who would sit in their courtyard and sing verses from the Ramayana and the Mahabharata. A driver working with the government... The thought immediately brought back memories of a day, seven years ago...
She was a young and tender lass then. It was her uncle's wedding, and for the first time, with a group of friends, she was going to town. The bus being crammed with passengers, she and Bogitora had had to sit right up front on the handyman's seat. Feeling privileged, Rukmini had glanced around at the other girls who were craning their necks to look out of the window. But they had looked back at her naughtily and burst into laughter. Rukmini's cheeks and ears had burned with shame when she realized that she had unthinkingly placed herself too close to the bus driver. And taking advantage of the bumpy ride, he had, on the pretext of reaching for the gears, ran his hand over her knees a couple of times.
Rukmini had wriggled aside a bit, and was promptly rewarded with a renewed wave of giggling from the rear seats. She had raised her eyes shyly and thought she saw her face reflected in a pair of droopy eyes. An unfamiliar excitement had shot through her veins, catching her unawares. She had told herself, "Really! These men could sometimes cast such enchanting looks!"
She had tried to steal a look at him a couple of times. Once or twice she had cast a cautious look at her friends at the back. They had quietened down. She could see Malati's head drooping in sleep. They were just a few miles away from the town. As she raised her eyes this time she was in for a surprise. The driver was looking straight into her eyes, a smile playing on his lips. Rukmini had not been able to stop a half-smile emerging on her lips. That was all. Soon they had alighted from the bus and entered the wedding house. They sang wedding songs and made merry. But all the gaiety and happiness of the wedding celebrations had not been able to fill the emptiness that had crept into Rukmini's heart after she left the bus.
When Rukmini returned after the wedding, her mother had noticed her growing distraction. And that was why she had uttered to Boiragi those very words that had hurt Rukmini so much, "If! keep a grown up girl in the house the curse will fall on me."
Taking a long drag on his hookah Boiragi had replied casually, "Why do you fear so? If nothing happens I'm there..."
Stunned, Rukmini had just about managed to keep the cups and plates she was carrying from slipping out of her hands. No! No! It was impossible... How could such words come out of Boiragi's lips? Oh! It was blasphemy to even listen to those words. She had rushed out of the room in consternation.
After her return from the marriage, she had often stood silently by the bamboo grove at the back of the garden in the hope of seeing him on a bus plying on the dusty road. Her silent prayers seemed destined to remain unanswered.
Well, all these were the distant past. Now the base of the bamboos in the grove had thickened. And the ache of expectations had brought a certain poignancy to those pining eyes. Memories of those days, seven years ago, filled her life with turbulence. She was certain that Haren the Driver from Nagaon and the bus driver were indeed the same person.
Meanwhile, Rukmini's mother had made all arrangements that usually went with giving a daughter away in marriage, and the news gradually spread. Now that the dates had already been fixed, there was really no harm if people knew: And the bridegroom himself was so eager – there was no chance of things going wrong this time. So it was all right for Aghoni Bai who had come to husk the paddy to overhear Rukmini's mother discussing the details of the jewellery with Boiragi or lamenting the fact that she could afford only a few pieces of jewellery to give away with her only daughter.
From the bedroom Rukmini felt like screaming - she did not want anything, she could very well live in peace without a wedding trousseau. She stepped forward, wanting to tell her mother this, straight to her face. But she hesitated, feeling shy. A warm gust of wind seemed to rush past her. She had never before spoken to her mother about her likes or dislikes. How could she talk to her now, and that too on such an embarrassing topic?
But word had spread like wildfire. Rukmini's wedding became a much talked about topic among the young maidens. On the banks of the river, on the bullock carts, in the evenings - everyone in the village talked about it endlessly. According to them, Fate had finally smiled at Rukmini. Otherwise, there was no way a man like Haren would volunteer to marry her. After all, so many men had passed cruel remarks at her even after they had formally come to see her. "What a horrendous complexion! The coming generations would be filled with children dark as the goddess Kali herself... It would be disastrous to bring home one as elephantine in proportions as her!" Didn't they hear a thousand such bitter and unkind remarks? And now a man like Haren was actually going to marry her! What luck! they sighed.
At the naamghar, the village prayer house, where her mother had made offerings on her behalf, Rukmini grew tired of answering her friends' questions. But today another thought struck her - these women were now envious of her. Yes, these same women who had once pitied her were now jealous of Rukmini. She derived a sense of pleasure at the realization. Yes, there was an almighty one, after all.
When there was a lull in the conversation, Rukmini told her friends everything. She was convinced that it was on Haren's bus that they had gone to her mama's wedding. The girls exchanged glances and agreed with her. And Bogitora nearly shrieked in excitement, "Yes, yes! Now I remember! Didn't you sit next to him? He must have fallen in love with you then!" The girls broke into peals of laughter and Rukmini felt she would die of embarrassment.
But who would have ever thought that this very day would turn out to be her nemesis? Like a poisonous snake it had been waiting to strike at her. There was no reason for such thoughts to come to Rukmini. So when she returned home after a meal at a relative's house, she was taken aback to see the crowd gathered in her courtyard - a dismal look on every face. She was startled to see that Bokul was also there, her eyes swollen with crying. Rukmini was now terrified to take a step forward. She had no idea how long she stood there. At some point her mother led her inside the house and there, holding on to a pillar, began to weep uncontrollably. In the meantime, many people, Boiragi included, had also entered the house.
Rukmini could take it no longer. She screamed, "Why doesn't anyone tell me what's wrong, Ma?"
Boiragi now drew himself close to her and running his hands over her hair, said, "My dear child, a terrible thing has happened. One wouldn't wish such misfortune to befall one's worst enemies. He has lost his leg forever... they'll have to amputate his leg."
Rukmini felt she had come crashing down to earth with a rude thud. She could not even cry. Like one who had lost everything in life, she turned to Boiragi ... and was astounded by the look on his face. This time she prayed fervently for death. Boiragi now stood very close to Rukmini. Taking her hand in his, he said softly, "I will not, allow this wedding to be called off, Rukmini. Not over my dead body! I shall decide on something today. Look at me Rukmini, please, just once!"
When she turned her eyes towards Boiragi, all she could see was a look that ended all her dreams. Rukmini's grief knew no bounds. So that was it ... she would never belong to Haren. Perhaps never see him again!
From a corner of the room, her mother wailed, "After all the preparations, we can't let the wedding be called off. Let Boiragi the ascetic now become a householder!"
Her mother's words scorched Rukmini's heart. She could not bear it any longer. Suddenly, she stood up and, rushing towards her father who was sitting in the middle of the courtyard, flung herself at his feet. The girl who had never dared to open her mouth in front of her father now wailed, She would become a bride. Yes, indeed, she would. Not Boiragi's, but Haren's. Or else, she would die.
All the people gathered there stared at her in astonishment. Her mother kept weeping pitifully. It was only her father who, with a sad, strange smile on his lips, kept looking at her. At that the sobbing Rukmini began to smile. Yes, she would be a bride! Haren's bride. This time, no power on earth could stop her from being a bride. Rukmini would be a bride. Yes, a bride!
For Quiz Click here