A Tale of Two Wives

The Sunday morning headlines on 30-April greeted us with grim news that the Taliban in Afghanistan had kidnapped and threatened to kill an Indian telecommunications engineer. A spokesman indicated that K Suryanarayana would be beheaded if the Indian Government did not withdraw all Indian citizens working in Afghanistan within 24 hours.

Tuesday’s paper confirmed another lost life. As with other tragic deaths that become public, we are given full view of the personal lives of ordinary citizens in the newspapers. No ink is spared to “enlighten” readers of all the intimate details of the lives so recently lost.

Suryanarayana was from the Hyderabad area of Andhra Pradash. He was 41 years old, married for 15 years to K Manjula and the father of three children, two daughters and a son. He had worked for Tata Teleservices for 5 years before taking up employment in January with Al Moayed, a Bahraini telecom company.

We expected a few more days of ink regarding funeral arrangements, government pronouncements of tough action and the detailing of a monetary relief package to the widow. The story could have ended there. We came to learn, however, that upon the arrival of her husband’s body in Hyderabad, his wife carried out an earlier threat of suicide by drinking toilet cleaning fluid.

The suicide appeared to be sparked by grief and the appearance of another woman, named Swapna, who claimed to be the slain engineer’s second wife. Swapna had come to the home of the grieving family, announced her claim and demanded acceptance into the family and a share of the relief package. Swapna produced a nine month-old daughter and photos of her marriage ceremony as proof of their “love marriage.”

The only details to be unwound would be how employer and government compensation packages would be awarded. Who would receive the compensation? Would it be the grieving widow lying in a hospital bed or the grieving widow holding the nine month-old?

The next day’s paper gave us another glimpse into southern Indian life. It appears that having multiple wives in Andhra Pradesh and the neighboring state of Tamil Nadu is not uncommon. Bigamy in Tamil Nadu, although illegal today, has historic roots. Bigamy in Tamil Nadu is referred to as “Chinna Veedu” meaning small or second house.

In Andhra Pradesh, the home of the killed engineer, bigamy is less a tradition, but among the rich, carries a social status. In our state of Karnataka, Chinna Veedu is not prevalent. That is not to say the powerful do not “keep” extra women. One former state Chief Minister was said to have a wife and mistress under the same roof. It was the mistress who greeted house guests.

As for the division of the relief package, the second wife has no legal standing and thus no access to the relief package. But since second wife and Suryanarayana were married according to Hindu rites, her small daughter is entitled to a share of the compensation.

Harish Marries Deepa

During our journey in India we have been fortunate to have seen many historic sights. The nuptials of our driver Harish Kumar meant, however, that we would see up-close a true slice of Indian life. Although the marriage had been arranged some years ago by the bride's and groom’s parents, the wedding invitation was provided just a few short weeks before the big event. Helen, while helping Harish scan the wedding invitation on her computer so it could be e-mailed to Harish's friends, discovered that this invitation was “his” invitation. His betrothed Deepa had “her” invitations. First indication of unusual things (for us) to come.

Since the wedding would take place in their “native” (hometown) which was a six hour drive north, Helen made travel arrangements. Our travel plans included staying in the Presidential Suite in the Hotel Pooja International. Wow! The unusual angles of this room were a surprise as was the bathroom tub. Egad! We were as much afraid of the tub as we were of the windows. We were concerned that opening the rusting metal window frames would result in the glass panes crashing to the ground. But we were happy to be on a new adventure.

It can best be described that the wedding ceremony unfolded…rather than being performed. Both Harish and Deepa had been involved in ritual and ceremony all the previous night. Sleeplessness showed on their faces. More ritual was to follow for the next three hours. It appeared that neither bride nor groom had a clue what was going to happen next. The main event took place behind a long blue curtain that ran across the large stage in the hall where the wedding was taking place.

Deepa appeared first on the mat set up for the ceremony. This southern Indian wedding is steeped in agrarian symbolism, mostly centered on rice. A priest directed the ceremony and provided Deepa and Harish just-in-time instructions on their next ritual. When Harish arrived, his feet were ritually washed and he was directed to sit on the mat next to Deepa. A curtain prevented the bride and groom from seeing each other. We wondered how many brides and grooms in this land of long arranged marriages saw one another for the first time as the curtain dropped. Before the cloth was removed, Deepa and Harish ritually anointed one another with rice poured on the other's head over the curtain. With a smile on her face, Deepa appeared, for the only time in the ceremony, to being having fun.

More ceremony ensued that involved flowers, special oils administered by the priest and blessings by family members and friends with the pouring of coconut milk over their hands and a token coin offered.

The couple then changed clothes for the taking of the obligatory 10 million wedding photos. A feast that followed the ceremony was served on banana leaves. We were honored guests (the only Westerners) and were seated at the first table so that everyone entering and leaving would be sure to see us. We ate with a little reservation, having walked through the kitchen to the banquet hall. But all ended well…as all wedding days should.

Facing the Gods

After becoming local celebrities, at least for the evening, by our American Bandstand escapade we were walked about by the festival organizers and showed the main attraction….the assembled gods of Bangalore.

Arranged in a long row, festooned in ornate and colorful floral arrangements, were 6 to 8 religious icons attended with great care by women. A rope barrier created a “space” for the gods separating the icons from the crowd. To enter the space, one removed their footwear and approached with reverence. Barefoot we entered.

It was explained (video) that the icons had been gathered from various temples in Bangalore and were assembled here so people could perform pooja (worship). Present among the gods, was Lakshmi, the goddess of light, beauty, good fortune and wealth. Among the great gods Brahma (Creator), Vishnu (Renewer) and Shiva (Destoryer), Lakshmi was initially claimed by Shiva as his wife. However, Shiva had already taken the Moon as a consort. Lakshmi’s hand was therefore given to Vishnu. Each time Vishnu took on incarnate form, Lakshmi followed as his wife being Sita to Rama and Rukmini to Krishna. Talk about a woman who will follower her man.

Lakshmi also signifies grace and love. Her devotion to Vishnu is often depicted by her massaging Vishnu’s feet as he lies on the coils of the snake Shesha.

As we toured the assembly of gods, Helen was adorned with bracelets…gifts from the gods as explained by our hosts. It was explained that married women wear colorful bracelets and that her bear wrist should be adorned appropriately. With red and green bracelets tinkling from Helen’s wrists, we continued to mill about the icons of the god and walked around the assembled crowd.

Everywhere we walked people came up to us and shook our hands. They were obviously touched that we would come and join their celebration. We were also touched that a simple gesture of allowing ourselves to be consumed by a festival glee would invite upon us such sincere welcome by our neighbors. A few days later, our US based neighbor who lives down the hallway also perched high on the 9^th flood, remarked, “So that was you two I saw from my balcony dancing on stage.” Celebrity knows no international boundaries.

As we walked about our small section of Bangalore that festive weekend, we found that other communities had gathered religious icons and were engaged in religious celebration as well.

On the final day of the celebration, the gods were mounted upon chariots and paraded about the streets. Drummers drummed. Dancers danced. We watched. Another day in Incredible India.

American Band Stand: Indian Style

It was just like American Bandstand of the 1950’s, this humid evening in Bangalore. A danceable tune was booming from the band on stage and everyone was gyrating and dancing up a storm. Well… to be truer in the retelling of the moment, the large assembled crowd in the small open field by our apartment was standing much like stone pillars planted in the ground. But there was a band on stage and there was a great tune flowing forth.

Many things come to us in India that we just don’t understand. First of all, there was an enormous festival taking place in the colony just outside our apartment compound wall. We had no clue what was going on. Several days earlier, a giant bamboo scaffolding rose from the ground at the corner of our street and Airport Road in which the outline of a deity was traced with multi-colored lights. We didn’t understand that either. Religious music started blaring from the field nearby our apartment at 5:00 AM. We did understand that.

After a few days, the religious atmosphere of the goings on appeared to take on a more secular festival tone. We felt a bit more comfortable venturing forth and mingling with our neighbors.

We wandered from our apartment and took a short walk that lead us into the small walled compound where the stage was set, the music blaring and stone pillars planted. We mingled. The beat was an easy cha-cha. Our toes tapped, our feet shuffled and before long we were in full cha-cha motion. Despite the cramp conditions, the crowd opened a space. Hooting and clapping soon surrounded us. Before long the small crew with the video camera used to broadcast the bandstand acts, trained its bright spot light on us. More hooting…more clapping…and our rhythmic cha-cha transformed our stone pillar neighbors into a gyrating and dancing knot of fellow revealers.

The song ended. We were urged by the crowd to continue with the next song into another dance. No cha-cha beat… no east coast swing rhythm. We successfully deferred. We stayed among our fellow young revealers, their arms raised, bodies swinging (video) lost in the beat of the music. Dancing has been banned in Bangalore bars and clubs earlier this year, so we figured our dancing was enjoyed and we would not go to jail. We thought that was the end of our evening outing.

With the band still thumping out a rousing tune, we were approached by festival organizers clearly recognized by the large buttons worn on their shirts. With grace they motioned us forward to the stage. Clarity of intent strikes us as we are lead onto the stage, introduced in the native language of Kannada and invited to dance for the crowd. With no need to worry about bail money, we swing and gyrate…raise our arms…move our hips and woo our newly found 300 best friends. Afterwards we are given flowers, a fruit basket, a small trophy and treated as honored guests in our festival decorated neighborhood by the Dick Clark of Bangalore.