A very religious man, of conventions and traditions, that was what he was lately, as years rolled on. He was not like this when young. He had studied medicine, been a famous doctor, had a good practise and made lot of money. His wife a beautiful lady, now with a face more kindly looking , more modest, not in any hurry to impress others with her beauty as was her wont during her younger days. Theirs was an arranged marriage, but neither of them had any regrets whatsoever, they had a good life, good family , and procreated one son, a brilliant sharp minded lad, who was becoming an engineer. The father had traveled far and wide, been to the US many times. He had stayed away from family for months, when he was specializing in his studies, he used to commute between the US and his native place about 4-5 times a year. Every stay of his in the US was for about 4-6 weeks. He learnt the advanced technologies of his field and was one of the few world renowned brain surgeons.
He looked very smart in his younger days. He was given to enjoying the fun and frivolity of life as they came, but never did he run after them. He didn’t take to drugs or liquor, but he enjoyed the company of his colleagues , both male and female, going out for parties, hiking, Christmas eves etc. Kate was one of his best friends. A brilliant young doctor from Florida, she had come to the same university as he was, for improving her proficiency and she was one of the select few students to be admitted to that course, where he was a part time teacher. They were not so young to be differentiated as student and teacher, but that was the position they had. A blonde young girl, of very good attractive features. He a smart young occidental lad, who had just married but had to leave his wife behind to pursue his studies. His wife stayed with her parents to complete her collegiate education. Their friendship was not one which demanded. At the same time, she was aware of his marital status and background and she was in no hurry for marriage, not until she finished her education and specialization in her field of medicine. They had a very special attraction to each other, a blind one probably. She appreciated his expertise in the subject , sense of quick wit and humour. She was staying in the hostel and alone, while he was alone too during his stay there. It happened during one of the weekends, when he was invited to her place for dinner. Everything was to be blamed, the ambience, the weather, the music in the room and the smell of good food, and the fine French wine. He was about to leave, while she held his hand for a second and looked into his eyes. Her eyes blue, and soft, he had never seen her from such close quarters. The time span extended from just the second, and things went out of control, which led them to a blissful night.
The next morning was bright and sunny, the flowers white, just outside the window, and a small sparrow perched on the sill calling for her mate. They both apologized for the erratic night, but then they didn’t give a second thought later and they left for their classes. Three weeks later she left, bidding him farewell and he returned back to his native place to practice medicine. They never met again and those days were not one of email communication. It was history which faded into the depths of the cranial cavities never to be seen again.
He knew how the gray matter worked, and what could go wrong if he touched the wrong part of the brain with his scalpel during a surgery. Yet he never understood emotions, or how they originated, and what made the human mind so complex. But all set and done, he was the only Indian in the world’s most famous panel of brain surgeons. He had performed about 300 operations during his 2 year stay in the US while also studying. He still had a few good friends left in the US. These had happened 23 years ago. His son was 24 now. He was surprised at how time flew. His wife enjoyed the company of the society’s elite , the wife of judges, police chiefs, ministers. Their party was always a congregation of the town’s “Who is who”.
That day she came back excited after a party. It was five days since their son had left for the US for his masters. She came in hurriedly and he was reclining in a couch reading the evening’s newspaper. She desperately wanted to share the gossip from the party.
“Why are you so tense” he asked.
“You will be too, if you know what I know.”
“So will I be told….?” He asked
“I don’t know how to tell you. It is about the daughter of Mrs. Grewal, the police chief’s wife.”
“What happened?”
“Mrs. Grewal’s daughter is in love.”
”And you think that is important news…..” he asked quizzically.
“No, not that but the fact that she is in love with her cousin, who is blood related. Isn’t that incest? A sin? And she is proud to share it with us as a news. And the tragedy is they have found a way to make this work.”
Now he was intrigued, he sat up, folding the newspaper…
“How…”
“Oh. They are going to give their son in adoption to one of their relatives, so that they are not related in anyway and the marriage can still happen”.
“Wow… that is interesting. But giving him in adoption, how does that remove the blood relationship or lineage or whatever it is??”
“It seems that is what the pundits have told them and it is supposed to be in line with the scriptures or traditional practice , who knows and I don’t care, I couldn’t tolerate what she said, such nauseating ideas and justifications. Couldn’t she or the boy find any one else in this whole world to fall in love and marry. She studied abroad, she could have married a boy from there, than going through this shameful act.” She was panting now.
“I agree with you, this is absolutely unheard of, and worse is the way to make this work. Why can’t they talk to them and explain it, and avoid this marriage.”
“I suggested that, and you know Mrs. Grewal gave me a look which could have turned me to ashes, as if I was the person committing the mistake and she was right. I don’t plan to attend the marriage and neither do I plan to make this friendship work. I am through with her. A family of no values, no culture , tradition….. I am going mad thinking of this.”
It was five months after this happened. Mrs. Grewal and her husband came to visit them and extended an invitation for the wedding. Though tense and burning inside, she was an epitome of outward calmness, while he had a cool discussion. Mr. Grewal explained how they were helpless, and finally they had to go through this process of ‘adoptive marriage’ to make things work.
‘But Mr.Grewal does it change any of the fact that they are brothers and sisters, though not immediate but still….?” He queried surprised.
‘I know sir, but there is no point in talking to them any more, they are firm, and after having waited for 4 months if things wont change, I don’t want to be a cause for their unhappiness in the immediate future. So saying he gave the invitation card and left.
“These people can’t convince their own children, and yield so readily. What a shame?” he said as he was reading the card.
“You still are curious to read the invitation card!!” she scorned at him.
The marriage was a week later. On the day of the marriage, as is the case everywhere, they attended, even though they didn’t prefer to. It was to be seen rubbing shoulders with the elite members who had come to attend the function. It was an assemblage of the society’s rich and famous. It was a short visit, for less than an hour, and they left home.
As soon as they arrived, there was a telegram. It was from the US. Their son was getting married within two days. The girl was American.
The mother was furious, confused, exasperated, everything. Within minutes she felt that the world was crumbling down and the floor below her feet slipping. So was he, unable to react, as the momentum of the matter was not fully in. He was the first to recover.
”Ok, what is there to be upset about this, anyway. He has liked a girl there and he is getting married. So what?. You said that it was OK with Mrs. Grewal’s daughter, so why not with our son.?”
She took some time to come back to her senses, and said, I just didn’t expect this. I thought our son would be as religious and traditional as we are.
Just because the boy is marrying a girl of his choice doesn’t mean he is not religious. Further she is a computer engineer and from a good family, at least that’s what he says, so why bother. We will talk to him tonight OK, now relax.
That evening, he called up his son, and spoke
“Appa, hope you have read my message by now. She is my colleague, studying with me, and both of us have thought it out well. We are confident of landing good jobs. We have been contacted by some of the leading firms, and in a matter of 3-4 months, we will be well settled. She and I are the toppers from the University, she is very beautiful, blue eyed, I will send you her foto later appa.” It was one continuous non-stop litany.
“See my son, we were a bit disturbed when we read the telegram, but later mother and I have thought it out, and we have no issues with this. But our request is, as soon as you get married, please come down with the bride, so that we can complete some of our family traditions. Is that OK?” he said. His wife was standing next to him, listening to the conversation over the speaker phone, and she added
“What do you mean asking him if it is OK. He should come. That is it. No more arguments.” She said
“Ok amma, no problems we will come don’t worry. We are planning to get married exactly a month from now. I showed her your photographs, and she said that you were very cute amma. OK got to go now, bye”.
The line clicked and went dead.
On the day of the marriage, the telephone line between the US and the parents’ house was busy, talking to their son and their new daughter-in-law. After about an hour, it was decided that they will come to India in a weeks time to complete the traditional practices of the family, which involved, going to some of the temples of their family deities, and completing other rituals at home.
The great day came and they drove to the airport. All the relations had come. There were about 50 of them at home, very close relatives and friends. The flight was on time, and the father met his son and his daughter in law at the airport. She was dressed in a sari, and he was very surprised. Though a corner of his heart ached, at the non-Indian bride, sari was a consolation to satisfy his slight depression. They drove back home. All introductions were over, a grand lunch was organized in honor of the newly wed. Most of the family members went to sleep, while the parents were talking to the son and his wife. Discussions were about future plans, career, place where they were planning to settle in the US etc.
The plan was chalked out for the trip to the temples, which was to start the next day. A ‘thaali’ was already in the house, a short marriage ceremony in the traditional style to be performed to satisfy the locals here. Then they would visit two other temples. Everything was to be completed in a week. The girl then started talking about her parents, her father was an engineer while her mother managed the household. She excused herself to get her family photos to show. Her mother went through each photograph as she was explaining things. Being an American certain things didn’t seem unconventional.
She said “You know, actually he is not my biological father” as she was speaking to her mother-in-law.
“What do you mean not your biological father?” she said surprised and a bit aghast.
At this the father sat up leaning towards the center of discussion very much interested. A loud silence fell over the room, where they sat. The son was not a wee bit worried as it didn’t matter to him .
“I was not born out of the marriage between my mother and my foster father”. She said
“I don’t know who my father is actually, and my mother didn’t have any background or photograph of him. But she was deeply in love with him it seems , and I am a product of that love. But this is known to my foster father and my brothers and sisters. Why do you look shocked and surprised?” she asked looking at the mother and slowly turning to the father-in-law.
The album was slowly slipping out of the mother’s hands, and the father caught it, before it fell down. The mother didn’t know how to react or respond. She was non-plussed. This was the second shock. Adding to her misery was the fact that her son was very cool and indifferent. On the other hand he was whispering something to his wife and they were laughing.
The father slowly looked at the album and the photographs. His face turned ashen grey. Never in his wild dreams he thought he would see this , nor did he imagine anything like this to happen .
The mother was Kate Mcallister. His friend of younger days, with whom he had spent a night. But yet he was not sure if this girl was his offspring. She had the exact blue eyes of her mother. Was there a shade of oriental features in her? He didn’t know. But knowing kate well, and the age of his daughter-in-law, it was not impossible that this was his daughter. The daughter whom he never knew existed, none in his family knew of that single instance. So was he going to reveal it? But to what avail even if he did?
Further life was not a movie, where there is a background score or a blurted dialogue to show that people who meet are consanguines. They are humans who meet, and emotions take over. He had seen the brain in all its complexities and solved them when they failed, but never did he understand the invisible tricks it weaved on people. It had just finished one in his immediate family. A very unique situation, much worse than the Grewal’s. There they knew that the boy and girl were cousins, not immediate brother and sisters as in this case. They had gone through the formality of adoption, which he couldn’t think of , as that meant he had to dust some skeletons from his past.
The best decision, was to live with certain facts and let them remain a secret. The rest of the evening and life he spent thinking on how certain things happened, and why certain things never happened? Why couldn’t his son recognize the girl as his sister? Does it not happen normally even if they have not seen, just like in the movies? Cursing the Grewals was so easy for him and his wife, now he couldn’t even grumble loudly about things in his own backyard. The more he ruminated the fact that his daughter was married to his son, the more unbearable it became. But the fact remained that, when they met there was no way they could know of their common ancestry and there was no way he was going to reveal it now, as it was too late. The best thing he decided was to let certain facts die with him, a peaceful death.
He looked very smart in his younger days. He was given to enjoying the fun and frivolity of life as they came, but never did he run after them. He didn’t take to drugs or liquor, but he enjoyed the company of his colleagues , both male and female, going out for parties, hiking, Christmas eves etc. Kate was one of his best friends. A brilliant young doctor from Florida, she had come to the same university as he was, for improving her proficiency and she was one of the select few students to be admitted to that course, where he was a part time teacher. They were not so young to be differentiated as student and teacher, but that was the position they had. A blonde young girl, of very good attractive features. He a smart young occidental lad, who had just married but had to leave his wife behind to pursue his studies. His wife stayed with her parents to complete her collegiate education. Their friendship was not one which demanded. At the same time, she was aware of his marital status and background and she was in no hurry for marriage, not until she finished her education and specialization in her field of medicine. They had a very special attraction to each other, a blind one probably. She appreciated his expertise in the subject , sense of quick wit and humour. She was staying in the hostel and alone, while he was alone too during his stay there. It happened during one of the weekends, when he was invited to her place for dinner. Everything was to be blamed, the ambience, the weather, the music in the room and the smell of good food, and the fine French wine. He was about to leave, while she held his hand for a second and looked into his eyes. Her eyes blue, and soft, he had never seen her from such close quarters. The time span extended from just the second, and things went out of control, which led them to a blissful night.
The next morning was bright and sunny, the flowers white, just outside the window, and a small sparrow perched on the sill calling for her mate. They both apologized for the erratic night, but then they didn’t give a second thought later and they left for their classes. Three weeks later she left, bidding him farewell and he returned back to his native place to practice medicine. They never met again and those days were not one of email communication. It was history which faded into the depths of the cranial cavities never to be seen again.
He knew how the gray matter worked, and what could go wrong if he touched the wrong part of the brain with his scalpel during a surgery. Yet he never understood emotions, or how they originated, and what made the human mind so complex. But all set and done, he was the only Indian in the world’s most famous panel of brain surgeons. He had performed about 300 operations during his 2 year stay in the US while also studying. He still had a few good friends left in the US. These had happened 23 years ago. His son was 24 now. He was surprised at how time flew. His wife enjoyed the company of the society’s elite , the wife of judges, police chiefs, ministers. Their party was always a congregation of the town’s “Who is who”.
That day she came back excited after a party. It was five days since their son had left for the US for his masters. She came in hurriedly and he was reclining in a couch reading the evening’s newspaper. She desperately wanted to share the gossip from the party.
“Why are you so tense” he asked.
“You will be too, if you know what I know.”
“So will I be told….?” He asked
“I don’t know how to tell you. It is about the daughter of Mrs. Grewal, the police chief’s wife.”
“What happened?”
“Mrs. Grewal’s daughter is in love.”
”And you think that is important news…..” he asked quizzically.
“No, not that but the fact that she is in love with her cousin, who is blood related. Isn’t that incest? A sin? And she is proud to share it with us as a news. And the tragedy is they have found a way to make this work.”
Now he was intrigued, he sat up, folding the newspaper…
“How…”
“Oh. They are going to give their son in adoption to one of their relatives, so that they are not related in anyway and the marriage can still happen”.
“Wow… that is interesting. But giving him in adoption, how does that remove the blood relationship or lineage or whatever it is??”
“It seems that is what the pundits have told them and it is supposed to be in line with the scriptures or traditional practice , who knows and I don’t care, I couldn’t tolerate what she said, such nauseating ideas and justifications. Couldn’t she or the boy find any one else in this whole world to fall in love and marry. She studied abroad, she could have married a boy from there, than going through this shameful act.” She was panting now.
“I agree with you, this is absolutely unheard of, and worse is the way to make this work. Why can’t they talk to them and explain it, and avoid this marriage.”
“I suggested that, and you know Mrs. Grewal gave me a look which could have turned me to ashes, as if I was the person committing the mistake and she was right. I don’t plan to attend the marriage and neither do I plan to make this friendship work. I am through with her. A family of no values, no culture , tradition….. I am going mad thinking of this.”
It was five months after this happened. Mrs. Grewal and her husband came to visit them and extended an invitation for the wedding. Though tense and burning inside, she was an epitome of outward calmness, while he had a cool discussion. Mr. Grewal explained how they were helpless, and finally they had to go through this process of ‘adoptive marriage’ to make things work.
‘But Mr.Grewal does it change any of the fact that they are brothers and sisters, though not immediate but still….?” He queried surprised.
‘I know sir, but there is no point in talking to them any more, they are firm, and after having waited for 4 months if things wont change, I don’t want to be a cause for their unhappiness in the immediate future. So saying he gave the invitation card and left.
“These people can’t convince their own children, and yield so readily. What a shame?” he said as he was reading the card.
“You still are curious to read the invitation card!!” she scorned at him.
The marriage was a week later. On the day of the marriage, as is the case everywhere, they attended, even though they didn’t prefer to. It was to be seen rubbing shoulders with the elite members who had come to attend the function. It was an assemblage of the society’s rich and famous. It was a short visit, for less than an hour, and they left home.
As soon as they arrived, there was a telegram. It was from the US. Their son was getting married within two days. The girl was American.
The mother was furious, confused, exasperated, everything. Within minutes she felt that the world was crumbling down and the floor below her feet slipping. So was he, unable to react, as the momentum of the matter was not fully in. He was the first to recover.
”Ok, what is there to be upset about this, anyway. He has liked a girl there and he is getting married. So what?. You said that it was OK with Mrs. Grewal’s daughter, so why not with our son.?”
She took some time to come back to her senses, and said, I just didn’t expect this. I thought our son would be as religious and traditional as we are.
Just because the boy is marrying a girl of his choice doesn’t mean he is not religious. Further she is a computer engineer and from a good family, at least that’s what he says, so why bother. We will talk to him tonight OK, now relax.
That evening, he called up his son, and spoke
“Appa, hope you have read my message by now. She is my colleague, studying with me, and both of us have thought it out well. We are confident of landing good jobs. We have been contacted by some of the leading firms, and in a matter of 3-4 months, we will be well settled. She and I are the toppers from the University, she is very beautiful, blue eyed, I will send you her foto later appa.” It was one continuous non-stop litany.
“See my son, we were a bit disturbed when we read the telegram, but later mother and I have thought it out, and we have no issues with this. But our request is, as soon as you get married, please come down with the bride, so that we can complete some of our family traditions. Is that OK?” he said. His wife was standing next to him, listening to the conversation over the speaker phone, and she added
“What do you mean asking him if it is OK. He should come. That is it. No more arguments.” She said
“Ok amma, no problems we will come don’t worry. We are planning to get married exactly a month from now. I showed her your photographs, and she said that you were very cute amma. OK got to go now, bye”.
The line clicked and went dead.
On the day of the marriage, the telephone line between the US and the parents’ house was busy, talking to their son and their new daughter-in-law. After about an hour, it was decided that they will come to India in a weeks time to complete the traditional practices of the family, which involved, going to some of the temples of their family deities, and completing other rituals at home.
The great day came and they drove to the airport. All the relations had come. There were about 50 of them at home, very close relatives and friends. The flight was on time, and the father met his son and his daughter in law at the airport. She was dressed in a sari, and he was very surprised. Though a corner of his heart ached, at the non-Indian bride, sari was a consolation to satisfy his slight depression. They drove back home. All introductions were over, a grand lunch was organized in honor of the newly wed. Most of the family members went to sleep, while the parents were talking to the son and his wife. Discussions were about future plans, career, place where they were planning to settle in the US etc.
The plan was chalked out for the trip to the temples, which was to start the next day. A ‘thaali’ was already in the house, a short marriage ceremony in the traditional style to be performed to satisfy the locals here. Then they would visit two other temples. Everything was to be completed in a week. The girl then started talking about her parents, her father was an engineer while her mother managed the household. She excused herself to get her family photos to show. Her mother went through each photograph as she was explaining things. Being an American certain things didn’t seem unconventional.
She said “You know, actually he is not my biological father” as she was speaking to her mother-in-law.
“What do you mean not your biological father?” she said surprised and a bit aghast.
At this the father sat up leaning towards the center of discussion very much interested. A loud silence fell over the room, where they sat. The son was not a wee bit worried as it didn’t matter to him .
“I was not born out of the marriage between my mother and my foster father”. She said
“I don’t know who my father is actually, and my mother didn’t have any background or photograph of him. But she was deeply in love with him it seems , and I am a product of that love. But this is known to my foster father and my brothers and sisters. Why do you look shocked and surprised?” she asked looking at the mother and slowly turning to the father-in-law.
The album was slowly slipping out of the mother’s hands, and the father caught it, before it fell down. The mother didn’t know how to react or respond. She was non-plussed. This was the second shock. Adding to her misery was the fact that her son was very cool and indifferent. On the other hand he was whispering something to his wife and they were laughing.
The father slowly looked at the album and the photographs. His face turned ashen grey. Never in his wild dreams he thought he would see this , nor did he imagine anything like this to happen .
The mother was Kate Mcallister. His friend of younger days, with whom he had spent a night. But yet he was not sure if this girl was his offspring. She had the exact blue eyes of her mother. Was there a shade of oriental features in her? He didn’t know. But knowing kate well, and the age of his daughter-in-law, it was not impossible that this was his daughter. The daughter whom he never knew existed, none in his family knew of that single instance. So was he going to reveal it? But to what avail even if he did?
Further life was not a movie, where there is a background score or a blurted dialogue to show that people who meet are consanguines. They are humans who meet, and emotions take over. He had seen the brain in all its complexities and solved them when they failed, but never did he understand the invisible tricks it weaved on people. It had just finished one in his immediate family. A very unique situation, much worse than the Grewal’s. There they knew that the boy and girl were cousins, not immediate brother and sisters as in this case. They had gone through the formality of adoption, which he couldn’t think of , as that meant he had to dust some skeletons from his past.
The best decision, was to live with certain facts and let them remain a secret. The rest of the evening and life he spent thinking on how certain things happened, and why certain things never happened? Why couldn’t his son recognize the girl as his sister? Does it not happen normally even if they have not seen, just like in the movies? Cursing the Grewals was so easy for him and his wife, now he couldn’t even grumble loudly about things in his own backyard. The more he ruminated the fact that his daughter was married to his son, the more unbearable it became. But the fact remained that, when they met there was no way they could know of their common ancestry and there was no way he was going to reveal it now, as it was too late. The best thing he decided was to let certain facts die with him, a peaceful death.
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