The ‘dramatis personnae’ of this rather bizzare incident (with a funny side to it) was my maternal uncle and I was a disbelieving eye-witness.

He was well past his prime; in fact he was in his late 60’s and had retired from the postal department. My aunt was a kindly housewife who was devoted to her husband and family, but tragedy had struck them very early in their married life.

Their only daughter had been born with severe physical and mental deformities and my aunt had dedicated her entire life to taking care of her. Their daughter, even after reaching 20, could not walk on her own and my aunt had to carry her around.

One fateful day, the pressures and hardships of caring for a ‘challenged’ child proved too much for my aunt and in a tragic turn of events, she strangulated her daughter to death and later committed suicide herself.

This traumatic incident shattered my uncle, but gradually he came to grips with the tragedy. Inexplicably, within 3 months of his bereavement, faint stirrings of re-marriage began to kindle in my uncle’s heart and despite strenuous efforts by elders to dissuade him, he went about searching for a suitable ‘bride’. He did finally find someone via the matrimonial columns— a lady in her mid-40s was willing to marry him and the marriage was arranged to take place in Dharmasthala

Bad omen
A van was booked to take the marriage party to Dharmasthala, but just as we were about to leave, it developed a mechanical snag and took almost 2 hours to set right.

Was my aunt, from her ‘heavenly’ eyrie putting a spoke in the wheels and ensuring that things didn’t go out of control. I think it would be right to say that almost everyone in the van, except my uncle, of course, had the same thought— a bad omen, indeed.

The vehicle again developed problems near Hassan and we reached Dharmasthala late in the night.
Throughout the long journey from Bangalore, my uncle— rather than being chirpy about his impending second stint as a bridegroom— seemed out of sorts and indeed, looked ill.

The next morning, as the muhurtham time was approaching, my uncle suddenly took violently ill with severe retching and vomiting and he had to be carried bodily into the marriage hall to go through with the rituals.
Seeing this the bride’s party immediately cancelled the marriage and left the hall in a huff. Much as they wanted to see their daughter married off, they certainly were not willing to settle for a son-in-law who appeared to be on his last legs!

This might sound incredible, but within a short time after they left the hall, my uncle recovered, but alas, his bride was nowhere in sight.

Crestfallen, the marriage party returned to Bangalore, my uncle sans a bride.

Did my aunt, from her ‘heavenly’ abode decided to put her foot down and ensure that her husband remained faithful to her memory and her selfless service to their daughter by not re-marrying? That’s an intriguing possibility......