Rashe Ram doolah ban gaya!!

Rashe Ram is a low caste landless young man. But he has his specialties. He is dark, muscular, works like a bull as agricultural labourer. He has no land of his own but has the unrivalled farming spirit. He is special in other ways as well. There are many who think he is dimwitted. It sometimes gets verified when many a time he puts more physical effort like a bull and misses the small witticisms expected of even a 10 year old.

He stays in a 30 square stinking, hot, unplastered brick hovel, no ventilation, just one door. His father was Lame Dheere Ram, christened so because he limped and walked dheere dheere, so they started calling him Langda Dheere. Dheere worked faster than any two legged man. Most efficient of workers, he coked a snook at the society by going into drinking unchecked and then shouted through the night, targeting particularly an ex-sarpanch for what crime God only knows. We can only surmise that possibly that village headman had denied him a BPL card that would have entitled him to some government run charities and subsidies. He did a favour to his children by not dying somewhere else than a state road. So one night when he was hit possibly by the car of another drunk man on the wheels he had at least ensured that his family will get something in road accident claim. So they got 10 lac for the patriarch getting crushed under the car. One drunken man getting paid for another drunken person’s binge driving.

So Rashe had a 30 square yard house, 10 lac rupees in balance, a strangely looking mother whom people say is just marginally better than a mental house case, and a younger brother who appeared far better. On top of that he is of marriageable age now. But there is no bride for him in the conventional arranged marriage set up. In Haryana already sex ratio is very low. In such competition who will give him his daughter. But then without marriage what is the purpose of Rashe Ram’s life. So all his relatives gang up to purchase a bride for him!

India is teeming with unfortunate human beings. There are millions of Bangladeshi settlers in slums who just sell their daughters to the leftover grooms in Haryana. Then there are criminal gangs who abduct girl children to later either push them into flesh trade or semi prostitution while occasionally selling them to the ineligible bachelors in Haryana, old men still having the dream of an heir, or widowers still having dreams of domestic life. Generally these caged birds, the purchased brides, do not even understand the language. Right from the beginning it is a fight. The girl’s effort to run away and join back her gang to be later sold again as a bride. It is a good business. Smarter ones just vanish time and again, getting multiple few-night husbands and more money for the gang-keepers or even their own parents and relatives.

Having been squarely rejected in an arranged marriage proposal, Rashe’s anxious relatives and well wishers searched some middle man who would get them a bride at a price. So the bride was arranged at INR 60000. Strangely, just a day ago a proud Jat farmer in the neighbourhood bought a buffalo at INR 83000. So it was considered a good bidding for the groom Rashe Ram. She was sharp eyed. Pretended not to understand even a single word of Haryanvi. Allowed Rashe Ram three nights as a husband and then in the wee hours on the pretext of going out for the loo in the open vanished into the dark folds of night. Much angry the groom-side again approached the middle man. Threatened dire consequences. They ladkiwallas said, ‘See it was your duty to keep her within control.’ But they said since the middleman is strong enough to get you a second chance we will send someone else but you have to ensure that you retain her this time. So within a week Rashe Ram got remarried, the ceremony included just garlanding and then running away like they had abducted the girl. His second wife appeared on the older side. She was really docile and appeared keen to stay. Possibly she came from even more wretched surroundings. By now much spoilt Rashe Ram had an issue. He told something to his anxious relatives. All of them agreed she was not fit for now eligible Rashe Ram. They even took her to a doctor to explore the prospects of children. Population census of India waited with anxious beat of heart till the doctor declared she cannot bear children anymore. She had borne children in the past in her previous innings as somebody’s borrowed wife. ‘Even her stomach had been cut…there were stitching marks,’ they told the middle man again and complained of wrong delivery. Strangely he again got under pressure and promised to provide a better one. The golden moment of third marriage arrived just in a week. This time all concurred that it is the best option. So Rashe Ram thrice married, with dreams of children, his broken teeth smile and intangible words is at the threshold of marital bliss.

I asked my mother why is she waiting so long to give bridal saugat to Rashe’s wife, a goodwill gesture as a fellow villager. ‘Let them finally confirm her as the real bride. Then I will put my 500 rupees to risk..who knows about these people!!”