Chapter 4 - The Later Sixties - A New Life

Arranged or not?

When someone asks me if my marriage to Ramu was an arranged or a love marriage, I am at a loss to answer honestly yes or no. What exactly is the line between these two types as understood in India [or if that is too large a canvas, considering our bewildering diversity, in urban middle-class India]? When child marriages were first banned under the law during the nineteenth century, thanks to the then Governor-General Benedick and Raja Ram Mohan Roy, the social reformer, the age limit for girls was set at 16 years. But in the early part of the 20th century, my aunt got married at 8 years of age and my mother at 12 [just to cite two instances, even if they were actually just betrothals, and not consumated till the girls came of age]. Even today nearly 2 out of every 5 girls are married before the present legal age of 18 in the country! In some cases, they and even the boys are just past the todder stage! Well, such marriages are clearly arranged.

The confusion starts when the views of the one or both the key parties to the union, the girl and the boy, are obtained. In the case of my two sisters, they both did have a say, and certainly, my two brothers-in-law to be. But for me, these are still arranged marriages. Then and also nowadays, in general, this is how an arranged marriage is worked out. First the horoscopes are compared and only if they agree in some crucial aspects according the astrologer, is the next step taken - either one of the two parties, the elders of each side, usually the girl's family, contact the other and if they get a good feel, the proposition is put before the boy and girl by their respective families. Photos may be exchanged and then, if all this evoke positive vibes, a meeting is arranged between the two families, now including the g and the b. Not the two of them on their own, no, not yet, and in some families, not at all. In many familes, it is taken for granted that the power of refusal resides wholly in the boy, and his family, and that the girl's family should be grateful that this 'demi-gods' have deigned to consider this match!

In our familes, there might not be any pre-determined view that the girl will not say 'No' but I have not myself heard of any such instance . It is also not unusual for the the two youngsters to go off for an evening to talk alone, get to know each other better than in the midst of so many others – something harmless, like a walk in the park or on the beach, a visit to an ice-cream parlour or a bookshop, etc. i have narrated earlier on how Lallukka and Jay Athimbere did that in 1940, to the horror of my grandmother who was totally oppposed to such new -fangled ideas. My second sister, Hema married a second cousin, and Chandru Athimbere came to stay at our place for a few days, view marriage, and then it was settled.

On the other hand, Kumar met Revathi, his future wife, in LA and JA's home, with a full house of relatives from both sides, and that was it. Both decided 'yes' with that one encouter! I even asked Kumar how he could decide like that! He replied in his inimitable was, 'What right do I have to say 'No' to any girl?' Obviously, I was projecting my own concerns about such a situation and decision-making process. Luckily, it turned out to be as good a way to pick a mate as any other.

In our immediate family, there was neither talk of, nor an actual payment of dowry, but that was not and is, even more so today, not the norm! What is more, the amounts demanded are going up and up and up still, with no end to the cupidity of those who have outstripping that of the have-nots. Unfortunately, the poor too try to keep up with the Joneses! I know of communities where there was no tradition of any dowry, especially in Kerala, and to some extent in Karnataka and A.P. But even they have succumbed to the lure and are now demanding dowry. Of course, dowry receiving and giving being illegal in India for decades, it is called a gift or sometimes subsumed under the name of marriage.

In any case, none of these marriages were without the pre-arranged moves of other family members, and were made within the community we belonged to. Moreover, the two families expected, and got, some decision immediately or within some short period – a day or two, generally [Recall how our family, especially my grandmother and mother too were upset when JA did not say 'yes' or 'no' for a few days?] . What if the boy and girl met within the circle of family or friends but there was no such plan or if they even grew up together or went to school together or with one's sibling etc. - that is how a number of non-arranged or 'love' matches click. Many of the recent marriages in our families have occurred this way. But our own case was not so clear-cut.
I leave it to you to decide what our [Ramu's and my] marriage was. This is how it came about....

So, what category did this Marriage belong to?...

Sometime in '65, my friend Ramani wrote to me suggesting I meet a batch-mate of her husband, Murthy. Her sister, Vatsala, and she had each tried before to interest me in such meetings ['view matrimony' as the newspaper matrimonial columns put it], for me to come back always with the objection that I could not decide after a meeting or two. But now, Ramani wrote that we could just meet on our own and as many times as we wanted, and we need not get back to Murthy or her as to what happened, etc. For a change, I too felt, what did I lose, anyway. So when a phone call came to me at office one day, I said, yes, I would meet Ramaswamy for lunch the same day at a nearby popular restaurant. We talked quite openly and met again the next evening before he returned to Pimpri [near Poona] where he was working as the Financial Adviser in the Hindusthan Antibiotics Factory.

As Ramu came up to Bombay often on work, we met again a couple of times, if I recall correctly, before I went off on a motoring vacation in Kerala with Vatsala, her husband Sastry and my father. In the meantime, we both corresponded. That gave me, especially, the opportunity to unburden myself of some of my phobias about marriage. I wrote firmly that I wanted to continue working after marriage, that I was an agnostic, that I valued my independence, etc. Maybe my fears were exaggerated, but the general expectation in our society those days was for a woman to submerge her personality and interests in her husband's or even in those of his family [to a lesser extent, this is still true nowadays, even among the educated, urban middle and upper classes]. The replies I got were most reassuring. This correspondence and occasional meetings continued in the beginning of '66. Ramu admits he was ready to say 'yes' long before I was. But then he did not have the same causes for worry that I had!

The Kerala Trip
Appa at this time had only a BSA bantam and no car. But my uncle, also a Ramaswamy, was prepared to let me have his car for the trip. Appa said he could no longer think of driving long distance. No matter, there was Sastry and myself. As we started on our 1,000 km journery however, he mentioned he did not have a drving licence. At once, I vetoed his driving even for a short while. I did not want to take a risk, especially with a borrowed car! Actually, I did quite well, both on the plains and the twisting hill roads of Wynad, but the very last day, with just a couple of hours to go, I felt so sleepy, I had to ask Appa to drive for an hour. We had a great time on this week long trip.

I had already written to Appa that I was fed up with my work in Levers, and was contemplating returning to Bangalore to take up Marketing Research consultancies, and help him in his business at the same time. When we were on our trip in Kerala, we talked about it more and he was quite supportive of the idea. So, beginning March, I did resign and put in my request for my effects to be sent to Bangalore at company expense as I was entitled to.

Decisions
Meantime, Ramu was now pressing for an answer and I decided to agree. Soon after, Appa came to visit me in Bombay, and I told him, to his surprised delight. I must say that when I told Ramu that I had resigned, he was in turn surprised and did not look too approving. Perhaps he thought that after all, I was going to be a fully dependent housewife. Later I learnt that he used to tell his brothers and sisters that his dream was to have a working wife while he could spend his time lying on a stone bench in the shade! Good this did not come out at that time, as for all that I wanted to keep working, I might not have relished being the sole breadwinner with a lazy husband at such a young age. Anyway, he did not break off the engagement after this news. CORRECTION: When I passed on this bit to Ramu a few weeks back, he came back with some, luckily few, corrections that I readily accept. The other corrections have been incorporated into the revised version but I am quoting him on this. He wrote “ I really wanted a person who would be able to survive on her own, in case I popped off. Sleeping on the stone bench was to be when I decided to retire--not dependent on a working wife!!

If you wonder at this parallel set of developments [thinking of joining Appa in his business and seriously dating, 'view matrimony'] I truly cannot say what was actually going on in my mind. All I know is that the six-month deadline was so firmly internalised that I was not going to be shaken in that resolve, and I was not depending on getting hitched as a way out. A job had to be in the offing and the Bangalore option was my solution. Once I agreed to marry, that was however forgotten. I told Ramu I would do consultancies in or from Poona if I did not get a regular job.

And Reactions...
As soon as word of my engagement got around in HLL, Dr. Rajni Chadha, the psychologist in the Marketing Research Department, popped her head into my room and asked me how much of my trousseau had been collected! Astonished, I retorted 'what trousseau? Maybe, just maybe, I will get myself a sari.' She was aghast, and told me that among Punjabis, a bride was supposed to be given enough good saris and suits [salwar-kameezes] to ensure that she wore a dressy new one each day for the entire year! This, apart from enough linen for the household, etc. Now, I was aghast, and assured her that far from being stirred to emulate this example, I was very glad that such customs were not known in the south, and that even if they were, I would have no compunction in ignoring them.

A very different reaction came from Prakash Tandon, the chairman of HLL. He called me in and asked if I was resigning because I was getting married or for other reasons. So I narrated what and how, but could not convince him that the two decisions were coincidental, till I asked that he check with the shipping department if I had not first requested shipping of my effects to Bangalore, and only after a few weeks, changed the destination to Pune. Vasumati told me why he was so concerned. A number of women officers and trainees had recently quit HLL, and the organisation was getting the reputation of being unfriendly to women. The management's stand had been in the past [when they rarely recruited women officers] that they would leave after marriage and it was a waste to invest in them. Tandon was keen to find more evidence to bolster this argument.

Years later, I met Tandon at a STC party [By then he was no longer a director in HLL, but had become one in the State Trading Corporation [STC] for a while. Ramu was at this time a director at STC]. I reminded Tandon that I had been in HLL long before. He asked me what I was doing, and I told him that I was with UNICEF. He then asked after several other women colleagues of my time, and I recounted each one's present position. I could not resist the temptation to add, 'So, you see, Mr. Tandon, that all the women who left HLL then are still working and not just in any odd job, but in areas of their expertise'. He smiled wanly and said , 'Ah, yes'. That was just like him!

Getting Ready for the Change
Going back to '66, when Appa was due to return to Bangalore, I went with him up to Poona, as he had to change trains there in those days. Chandru, Surimama's son, worked as a biochemist in the same organization as Ramu. So, we both stayed with him for a few days. I got to meet Ramu's father and younger brother, Gopala, who was setting up the TELCO plant and offices [he is a Civil Engineer] in Chinchwad, just next to Pimpri. I got on well with both of them. I recalled Ramani's anxious question during the period when I was silent and undecided if the fact that these two were staying with Ramu was my problem. I had written to her that it had never even crossed my mind.

Many years later, I heard from one of my family that the general belief was that Ramu and I had met through Chandru, or even that he had been responsible for arranging our marriage. Like the whispering game, I guess surmises and rumours have a way of getting transformed in passing from person to person!

An RP-style Wedding
There was one final hurdle before we did get married. We were both keen to have a registered wedding and both our fathers were upset. They said, 'Make the ceremony as simple as you want, but let it be a Hindu wedding'. Still, we tried, and how! No luck. Things must have changed now, but then we drew blank in three towns. In Bombay, they said Ramu was not resident there, and vice versa in Poona. So we enquired in Bangalore. Well the problem there was that neither of us had been living in the state for years and so even though we 'belonged' to it, we needed to wait for a month after giving notice, with one of us living there, before we could get hitched. Since, we had decided to get married before the month was out after my departure from HLL and Bombay, and Ramu had even got his leave sanction, we reluctantly gave in to the idea of a religious ceremony. The fathers must have heaved a collective sigh of relief.

We had however full leeway to lay down terms and conditions. Appa was only too happy to oblige – anything so long as...our guest list was limited to our immediate families – the two parents, our siblings and their offspring. We then included any local aunts and uncles. The only non-family members were Vatsala, Ramani's sister and also my friend and Sastry – this was in lieu of Ramani and Murthy who had brought us together, but who were in Delhi. We would inform them by letter and print no invitations. There would be only as brief a ceremony as essential and no reception.We had already planned to get away on our honeymoon by the afternoon. We wanted our marriage to be a model of simplicity in an era when, as we then thought these events were gaudy, expensive, noisy, keeping up with the Joneses affairs. Little did we realise that the trend was in the direction of ever more gaudy and costly weddings with no seeming end to it.

Ramu came down a week or so before the wedding date and we set to work on the priest who was to officiate at the ceremony. Luckily he was my father's tennant and more important, a very open-minded man. He heard us calmly when we asked him if he could not finish the ceremony in a matter of minutes instead of hours as usual, and said he would look into the rules and get back to us. Next day, he told us that the absolute minimum according to the Vedas were the Agni [the sacred fire] which was the chief witness and sanctifier of a Hindu marriage, the Saptapadi [seven steps] or going around Agni seven rounds, hand in hand, and the placing of the yoke on our shoulders to signify a concerted action in life. Even the tying of the 'thali' [or yellow thread with the marriage symbol'] around the bride's neck by the groom was a later introduction, he added. How long would all this take, we asked – 15 minutes, he promised. In fact, he did in 14 flat. One aunt came too late as she had never expected a weddding to finish or come to the main event either so soon.

And this did include my gingerly sitting on my father's lap as even in those slender days, I felt I might be too heavy for him while Ramu tied a thali while Appa and he repeated some of the key sanskrit mantras that go with that part of the ceremony . I agreed to the thali as the parents wanted it, and each gave me one that our mothers had worn. [Soon after, though, I found the gold chain on which the thalis were hung too irritating especially in summer, and I took it off telling Ramu if that was the only thing that made me married to him, the marriage was not worth protecting]. Only one other ceremony we had was that we exchanged garlands before sitting before the fire. Lallukka tried to put on a casette of the drums beating the marriage beat, but Ramu gave such a scowl that she hastily turned it off!

We had planned to have early lunch as the ceremony was over by 10 am or so. This too was as simple as we could get it to be. One masala rice, one sweet etc. Apart from my saris, the total cost was about Rs. 1,000, I think, for the fifty or so guests [our combined families were large, even though not all from Ramu's side could come!].

'Saris' needs another story. When Ramu came down to Bangalore, Appa asked him to choose a suit, a ring and a watch [the usual presents the bride's father gave the groom]. He refused – it smacked of dowry! Despite pleas, he refused to budge, and so Appa had to accept. I was watching from the sidelines. Then came the issue of what Ramu would wear for the ceremony. He said he would be in a pant and shirt, and here I drew the line. If he did not want to wear a dhothi, he should at least wear a churidhar or pyjama and a kurta. Ramu finally agreed to this, and wore his then usual white loose pyjama and kurta, saying that he had not worn a dhothi for ages.

A couple of days before the wedding, we both went to receive Annaiya, Ramu's father at the station. No sooner had we greeted him than he said ' it is our tradition to get the bride a sari for the wedding'. Ramu agreed to buy me one. I kept mum then, but turned on him the moment we were by ourselves, ' If I accept a sari from your father, you have to accept a suit from mine!' In the end, Ramu agreed to an odd pant and shirt, as he insisted that a suit definitely smacked of dowry!

Our wedding day had a bit of gaiety added to it, after all, when some of the guests had left, My two brothers-in-law and my nephews and nieces declared that this was too quiet and sedate a wedding to be fun and started a 'bylla' in their own style. So we watched and enjoyed the dancing and singing for a while before Ramu and I left by car for Mysore, the first leg of our honeymoon.

The Scent of Coffee Blossoms!....
....is something one has to experience. When we went from Mysore to Mercara [Madikere now], it was just the right time. We stayed at a coffee plantation guest-house for a few days and enjoyed the smells and sights all around. Then we moved to Ooty before returning to Pimpri via Bangalore. Ramu and I shared the driving, even though I found his Ambassador pretty heavy to steer. [Thereafter, I managed to avoid that car as much as possible in town. Gopala had a fiat,but hardly used it to work, as the Telco jeep would take him on the rough site roads. So I preferred to take that when I went to Poona, about 15 km. on the horrendously busy Bombay-Poona road. However, the Ambassador was inevitable for outside trips].

On the last leg of our trip, I debated whether I should wear a sari, a salwar suit or my only pair of slacks. I decided it would be the slacks, as I felt I would not have the courage to wear such an attire if I did not do it then. What a mountain of a molehill I made it now seems! But at that time, I had to make this non-conformist statement. Not that I got any reaction whatsoever from Annaiya or Gopala – maybe they did not even notice!