A penny for your woes

“You must never marry anyone from among relatives,” declared my maid as she walked in a little earlier than usual. Wondering which TV serial was pushing this line, I resigned myself to hear more. “One must not have any relatives at all. One must be born alone and die alone,” she elaborated. Restraining myself from pointing out that one did die alone, I waited for the story to unfold.

Her younger brother was getting married to her elder sister’s daughter.  The groom was 35 and the girl was 18.  “A bit late for your brother,” I said conversationally.

“Not having parents is a big misfortune,” she sighed. “He should have been married  a long time ago to my other sister’s daughter who he liked well enough and it was all agreed but the girl was flighty. She ran away with his friend, a rich boy. He lived with her for a few years and then she came back with two children.”

“They had some differences?” I asked politely. “Oh, big difference in caste,” she replied. “You cannot blame his parents for wanting him to settle down with a girl from their own caste. It was not as though he had married her. Anyway they settled it with a lot of money,” she said.

“Curse my sister,” she spat out. “Now that my brother is doing so well, has got elected to the Gram Panchayat and all that, she wants him to cancel this wedding and accept her wayward daughter. She says it is his duty but he has had enough of the city and just wants to settle down with a simple village girl.”

Her sister was using this as an excuse to get drunk and she and her family were not attending the wedding. “My eldest sister is a widow and there is very little she can do even if she comes,” she said, “and that leaves just me.” I wondered what the problem was. “The boy is my own brother and the girl is my own sister’s daughter, from whose side should I go?” she asked. “What difference does it make?” I queried.

“Both want me to come only to do work. The wedding is in my sister’s village; there will be so many rituals and so much work. Cooking, cleaning and what not. If I go from my brother’s side my sister will fight.” Taking out her tobacco pouch, she lamented the timing of the wedding. If only it had happened when she had bid for and taken the chit-fund money.

She looked at me earnestly. She had only one brother. He had helped her in the past and she had to go with a good gift. “Don’t say no,” she pleaded. “Cut it from my salary, I will repay every paise. Please don’t say no.”

I have no brother and have lived by the principle: neither a borrower nor a lender be. Yet, I decided to indulge in the joy of giving. I gave her what she thought was a loan, but I knew it was not coming back.