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Haryana is located in the north of India, and its name means the abode of God. Haryana became an independent state in 1966, and before that, it was part of the state of Punjab. The capital of both states is the city of Chandigarh. The population of Haryana is over 25 million people.
The state has a highly developed engineering and agriculture. It is in Haryana where most crimes against women occur.
In antiquity about 3000–1300 BC Haryana was part of Harappa civilization, on a par with Egyptian and Sumerian.
Already at that ancient time, sewerage and drainage systems existed in Haryana. Civilization fell into decay, and then completely disappeared with the arrival of the Aryans. It is believed that the creation of the universe began from this place, so pilgrims from all over India come to Haryana, in particular to the sacred pond Brahma Sarovar.
It was on the territory of Haryana that the events described in the ancient Indian epic “Mahabharata” took place.
My future husband’s village was called Samain, it was not far from the city of Tohana, in Fatehabad district, Haryana state. About ten thousand representatives of ten different castes lived in it. Brahmins, Jats, and Banya belonged to the higher castes. The lower castes were Khati, Kumharas, Lohars, Nai, Chkhipi. Registered, that is, untouchable castes – Chamari, Balmika. Half of the population of the village was engaged in agriculture, almost 40 percent of the population was not engaged in anything.
My future husband and his family came from the lower caste of Khati, whose members were engaged in carpentry and agriculture. The father of my future husband was a carpenter, as Khati should be, the family also had a small cotton field, and my future husband himself had the profession of a welder. He was shy of belonging to a lower caste and subsequently lied to new friends that he was from a higher caste of Brahmins.
Castes arose with the arrival of the Aryan tribes in India. Aryans were nomads. There are many theories about their country of origin. They came to India in ancient times. The Aryan entertainments were divided into two groups – gambling and music and dance. The Aryans brought their views and customs, including the division of society into four castes, or classes of society. The highest of them were priests and scholars – the caste of the Brahmins. Steps below were warriors and nobles, the penultimate class of society consisted of artisans and merchants. The lowest consisted of agricultural workers, as well as workers of other professions.
Representatives of different castes did not have the right to marry among themselves, and it was impossible to move from one caste to another.
I remember one feature of life in the Indian village. By tradition, residents of the same village are prohibited from marrying each other. The nearest village, with representatives who are allowed to marry, must be within a radius of at least ten kilometers. Often, the girl’s parents begin to look for her as soon as she comes of age. Sometimes it happens that, living in the same village, young people fall in love with each other and, without obtaining the consent of their parents, they come to an agreement and run away from their native land. To prevent such a development of events, parents try not to delay their daughter’s marriage. According to the stories of local residents, because of this, many young people have committed suicide, unable to cope with the loss of their beloved.
Currently, before the arranged marriage, the bride and groom first look at each other’s photographs. If they like each other, they are introduced to each other, then they communicate by telephone, though it happens sometimes that they do not communicate at all and are not even interested. Also in India, there is a tradition to consult with an astrologer before the wedding. All people are divided into Manglik and non-Manglik.
Mangal dosha is one of the major deciding factors in Hindu marriages. A Manglik marrying a non-Manglik is considered disastrous which can even lead to the death of one’s partner. Mangal dosha is the combination in the birth chart or horoscope where Mars (also known as Mangal or Kuja) is placed in the 2nd, 4th, 7th, 8th or 12th house in the Ascendant. A person with mangal dosh in his natal chart is called Manglik. Mars is considered malefic when it is positioned in any of the mentioned houses and it leads to tensions, dissatisfactions, and disasters in married life.
My acquaintances had a case when the groom changed his mind about marrying his bride already at the height of the wedding preparations, when gold and a dowry had already been bought, and guests were invited. The girl was slightly plump and groom did not like her. However, at the first meeting he agreed to their wedding, then something went wrong. Relatives said that he had a girlfriend at work. He was tormented for several months, overcome by doubts, but did not dare to cancel the wedding. He was unhappy but did not reveal his grief in front of relatives. At this time, the bride’s family, highly respected in the city, purchased all necessary, furniture, and gold jewelry. Few weeks remained before the wedding. One day a brother asked the groom why he was so sad. The groom admitted that he actually did not want to marry because he did not like the bride. But he still was going to marry her, because it was too late to cancel the wedding and upset parents. The groom’s brother was an impulsive man. He just immediately picked up the phone, dialed the number of the father of the bride, and said that there would be no wedding. The groom was relieved, but his family lost credibility. In India, the most terrible for a person, for a family – to lose the respect of society.
I’d like to describe another case from the life of the village in which I lived. In the village of my future husband was a young family. The father of the family sold alcohol, and the attitude to the family was bad. The young man, the son of a merchant, was a handsome, kind and cheerful guy, about two meters tall. But because of the past of his father, no one got married to him. Eventually, when the guy was already over thirty, he married a village girl, divinely beautiful, young and very tall like a model. They got married and after a while selflessly fell in love with each other, and had a daughter. And then his wife started having bouts, during which she was bleeding from her mouth. Her husband was unhappy about it and was afraid of losing her forever.
I also know of a case when a young girl from a rich rural family. She had an arranged wedding, but love did not come during their life together, and she filed for divorce. Then she re-married the one she chose and was happy with her husband. In her defense, the villagers always said that since she was rich, she was allowed to do so.
It happens that a great love comes to spouses after the arranged wedding. Sometimes two loneliness live under one roof for the whole life. It is much more difficult for girls to live in a new family. Because they live in a strange family, where mother-in-law often mocks her daughter-in-law, and the husband doesn’t intercede for his wife if they don’t have a good relationship. Her parents are very far, and it is difficult to complain about the phone.
Not for nothing are parents picking up a wife for their son. In India, life is often so formed that the husband works five days a week in another city, arrives home for the weekend at the village. Therefore, his wife spends most of her time with her husband’s parents, and not with him.
In India there are few divorces, families are built for life, many Indians but not all are wonderful family men. But, as I was told, there are few divorces, because in case of divorce, the husband’s family will have to return the bride’s dowry, and not everyone can afford it. I was told by Tenardieu that there are many tragic accidents with wives, after which the widower will remarry without problems. I remembered very well how, at the beginning of our story, my future husband told me about this, not seeing anything reprehensible in the murder. As now I can see that he quite often lacked sincerity, I also guess his theory about dead wives could be false. But who knows.
the beautiful village of Samain
On the way from the airport, I fell asleep again. Finally, we arrived and stopped at a two-story house with beautiful wooden carvings on the facade. There were still mirrors on the doors and all kinds of whorls of wood. My future father-in-law talentedly made them with his own gifted hands.
On the outer wall of the house, I saw a swastika. Then I noticed that swastikas were also painted on the neighboring houses.
Then I read that a swastika is a Sanskrit word that means well-being. He embraces the idea of the four cardinal directions and the four seasons, the fusion of the male and female. The swastika is a symbol of the sun.
There is an important little detail – the position of the swastika. The vertical swastika is a sign of good, sun, and well-being. But the swastika, located at an angle of 45°, is a symbol of evil, striking out and destroy. The Nazis used just such a swastika.
Houses in an Indian village are not at all the same as in Russia. In general, the principle of building a village is different. Houses in Indian village are two-storeyed, connected by a common wall with neighboring houses, there is an open sky inside the house between the rooms, you can put a chaise lounge in the corridor and look at the stars, as well as at curious neighbors, and they can look at you. It often happens that there is a hole in the wall to transfer food to each other. In each house there are wicker beds charpai, they are hard to use. But in the heat it is very good that the base of the bed is wicker: the air circulates. We went inside. It was a carpenter’s house. Everything in the house was done by his hands, even wooden sofas and beds.
When we arrived from the airport, it was early morning, they carefully brought me tea, after tea, I lay down to take a nap, the flies would not let me rest, and I covered myself with a blanket right on top of my head. I heard some people come and the room was filled with people. Some woman pulled the blanket off my head and looked into my sleepy face, looked at me and covered again with the blanket.
I had the feeling of unreality of what was happening, some kind of magic, the kindness of nature towards me.
Then I woke up, took a shower and had lunch.
In the evening a young man, my future husband, was glowing with happiness.
– I am very glad that you came. And my dad is happy, – he said with tenderness in his voice.
– I’m glad too, honey.
– Tell me, did you like me? – He asked looking into my eyes.
– Yes, and you?
– Yes, my dear, I like you very much, – he said and kissed me for the first time.
During our dialogue, I noticed that he did not say a word about my mother.
“Probably, his mother is against me,” I thought, and fell asleep carelessly.
The next morning I sat on the bed, and a lot of people entered the room. These were the villagers. I was sleepy and felt shy. They were local women, grandmothers, and children, all of them, except for children and girls, were wearing Punjabi suites and dupatta, they had numerous bracelets on their hands, and good-quality Indian gold glittered in their ears, neck, and fingers.
They lined up against the wall so that everyone had enough space in the room, and looked at me in silence, not smiling and not blinking, as it seemed to me, some people looked at me. I was so shy and didn’t know where to hide from such attention. I looked away in confusion. They stood silently and did not move. Then I smiled at them, and they smiled back at me. Their visit ended, they turned around and left the room. When they came the next time, on the advice of my future mother-in-law, I touched the oldest women’s legs as a sign of respect. In response, they touched my head as a sign of blessing.
Then I, the young man, his brother, his sister, and her daughter went to Tohana to shop and bought me beautiful Indian clothes – I chose shalwar-kameez in marine blue and a shawl over my head – dupatta. On the way back, his sister, a pleasant girl, got off the bus, and we drove on to the village. From now on, I wore an Indian national dress. In the village, none of the married women wore European clothes.
Previously, I was not interested in Indian culture. Therefore, I did not know that a saree is not the only traditional outfit. In Haryana, women are rarely seen in a saree on a weekday. Rather, it is festive clothing. In everyday life, I saw only women in salvar-kameez and dupatta. Salvar-kameez means “pants and shirt”. In fact, a kameez shirt is most often a beautiful dress just above the knee, with different types of necklines and sleeve length, decorated with embroidery and gold threads. It is worn with salwar, which are often the same color as the top, but there are also different colors, there are form-fitting, it all depends on the design. In stores, shalwar-kameez are sold in one set with a dupatta color in harmony with the outfit.
The most magical detail in Indian women’s clothing is dupatta. It creates a mysterious image of a woman, hides her face, protects from annoying glances and from the sun.
Dupatta is a long scarf of the finest fabric. Married women cover their heads with a dupatta, and unmarried girls fashionably oblige a scarf around their neck and chest.
I noticed that when a married woman sees a man older than her, she covers her face with a dupatta. In particular, my mother-in-law covered her face as soon as some grandfathers entered the house. At such moments she looked very feminine.
Fabrics in India are always of good quality. The production of fabrics there has been calculated for thousands of years, cotton has been used since the third millennium BC. In ancient times, people living in the territory of modern India discovered the special properties of plants that give different colors to fabrics. Since then, the paint has been used in the manufacture of fabrics. Thus, India became the first country on the planet where multicolored fabrics appeared. It is also known that in India men painted their beards in the most unexpected colors.
Salwar-kameez, or Punjabi Suite, which I bought on the second day of arrival in India, I chose myself. It was aquamarine, satin, chiffon and with gilded patterns sewn onto the fabric. Dupatta was the same color of chiffon.
In the village, men of different ages wear a white ensemble of a long shirt and pants.
In the cold weather in India, I saw a lot of men who walked wrapped in a blanket.
Urban youth most often dress in the same way as in the West.
The shops in Tohana sell all kinds of clothes: national outfits and fashionable dresses, tops and jeans. Compared to other countries, clothing in India is cheap, but the quality is at its best.
Footwear in India is also national and ordinary. In the village, people walk in shales, wear national shoes or European shoes embroidered with stones and rhinestones to celebrations.
My future husband in the heat and in the cold, at the wedding and the police wore tight sports sneakers, put on thick socks. When I offered to buy other shoes, he bought himself new sports sneakers, which differed from the previous ones only in the color of the laces. His friends who came to us were shod in good-quality men’s sandals and fashionable shoes.
Together with salwar-kameez, I bought gorgeous ballet shoes in the national Indian style, embroidered with gold rhinestones, through which colored threads were intertwined with snakes.
On the streets, you can see men with a beautiful turban on head.
I walked through the market and looked at the passers-by. I could not believe that I was in the real world. It seemed to me that I was in an oriental tale or on the set of a film.
I noticed that Indian people have rare beauty, delicate features, large eyes with infinitely long doll eyelashes.
In the village of Samain, I saw the stunning beauty of a woman of about fifty. She had huge emerald eyes framed by two-centimeter velvet eyelashes, olive skin color, and all facial features harmoniously combined with each other as if painted by a talented artist. On her head she carried a metal basin, not holding it with one hand. It was evident that she was engaged in physical labor, but even her tired look did not hide her natural beauty, but, on the contrary, emphasized.
Often I looked at my Dadi and admired her. A thin, toned face with large blue eyes and a straight nose. Grandma was already ninety years old. But the sculpture of her face has not changed since her youth. There were deep wrinkles on her face. And in the bottomless eyes, the naughty light of former youth played. Still, only the body is aging, and the soul remains forever at the age when the person loved the last time.
* * *
Before bed, I tactfully asked me to bring a sheet and a duvet cover. But Tenardieu said that they did not use sheets and duvet covers in the house.
He slept on a synthetic bedspread and covered himself with a thick blanket. All the guests visiting the house were lying on the same bedspread during the day or sitting with their feet.
The next day, the young man’s mother smiling brought me a beautiful sheet of yellow satin fabric with blue flowers and a golden pattern. But she said that they were not sleeping on this, but, on the contrary, they sometimes covered the bed for beauty during the daytime.
How did I suffer in my soul when guests came to the house and lay down on our pillows with head, and someone did not hesitate to fold unwashed feet. The fact is that there was no spare pillowcase either, and instead of a pillowcase, I laid out one of the new hand towels that I brought with me. But it was still unpleasant, and it seemed to me that then the pillow smelled of someone’s feet.
For many years, I did not wash by hand and did not wash the dishes with my hands, as I had a dishwasher and an automatic washing machine. In the house of my future husband, almost everything was done manually. Small things were washed right on the granite floor, soaping and beating on the floor.
The washing machine was semi-automatic and assumed a constant presence to drain and pour water into the tank, and then shift it to the centrifuge.
There was also no trash can in the house. After peeling vegetables, the peel was dumped in a corner of the kitchen, cigarette butts were thrown right there on the floor next to them. Then when cleaning the room it was all swept away in a heap, shifted to the basin. Basin put on his head and carried to the dump. The dump was spontaneously located. That is, at the end of our small street, one needs to go out onto a large road, cross it, and rubbish was thrown onto the side of the road. There were already piled mountains of garbage, and no one took them out for recycling. We did the house-keeping with my mother-in-law and grandmother-in-law every day, so it was clean. I often saw the old grandmother in some kind of homework, such as cleaning vegetables or sweeping the floor.
In India, you will rarely find garbage bins. The local population throws small rubbish everywhere, but not near their home. Large waste is carried to an arbitrary landfill, which, as a rule, is located every 500 meters. But in Indian houses, cleanliness is impeccable, even the poor wives have dusty clay floors in dugouts for days on end.
Drainage was also absent. In front of our house, the pavement was dismantled, and the car was pumping waste from the pit. At such moments, you begin to appreciate what you have not noticed around you before – the livability and comfort of modern apartments.
In the kitchen, huge cockroaches constantly crawled out of the pipe into the sink. I have never seen such big ones before. Each cockroach was four centimeters. There were also ordinary small cockroaches.
The first time I saw them was when I brewed tea in an aluminum scoop on the stove. My future husband was standing nearby. Then he suddenly said:
– Next to you crawling cockroach.
For fear, I screamed so loudly that people could hear me in the next village. I jumped onto the back of the young man and hung on it, continuing to scream with fear.
His father entered the kitchen, frowned and asked:
– What happened?
– She saw a cockroach.
He looked at me, laughed, and left.
Much to my surprise, I learned that my future husband was not at all afraid of cockroaches. Not even the slightest hostility to them.
– So what if cockroaches. They are also living beings. As a child, we even played with them, planted them in our palms, he said good-naturedly and smiled, as if recalling his childhood friends.
* * *
In the evening, I asked the young man and his family to come down. I said that I prepared something interesting for them.
Then they came into the room and sat around the table. I laid out a gift for a gift, brought from Moscow, and presented them to each family member.
When I gave my mother-in-law bracelets, contempt flashed in her huge tarry-black eyes. On the face of my future husband was a painful disappointment.
Immediately after the parents left the room, the young man arrogantly stated that the Italian dress, which I brought to his niece, he can buy from a flea market for a hundred rupees, but not for many thousands, and all the other gifts are cheap.
Then, squinting, he told me:
– You don’t seem to have money for a study in the USA. On what money were you going to go to America?
– What do you mean? Why are you talking about this now?
– Well, once you told me about the plan to study in the West. I thought there would be such a rich woman.
I said nothing and did not answer him.
The only person who showed respect was his father. He thanked me and proudly wore watches on his hand for several days; I was very pleased to see it. After all, the watches were good.
* * *
In those days I met my husband’s second cousin named Kamlesh. It was an educated thirty-year-old married woman. She came to her native village to her parents from another city, where she lived with a rich husband and children. She was happy in her marriage. She and her husband had two children – a boy and a girl. Among all the relatives of my future husband, Kamlesh was the most conscious.
She did not communicate with relatives of my husband and himself. In a large family of my father-in-law, many relatives did not speak among themselves for many years. But in those days she broke this rule.
A few years ago, a relative of my husband committed a misdeed connected with a girl. After that, the whole family became an outcast in their own society.
Once we sat with Kamlesh on the couch and chatted nicely. Then she told me:
– Now everything depends on him. If he wants, he will make a big wedding in a restaurant.
But the young man did not want to do anything. He only said that he had no money. And besides, he said I did not bring a dowry to their house, and this was important for him.
I actually had a dowry. But did it really matter, if everything turned out this way? So I said nothing.
And the next day I, my future husband, his father, sister and child got into the car of his friend Mandip – an intelligent young man and went to the regional center – Tohana.
Right at the bus stop in Tohana, there was a small, cute Hindu temple of white marble. We got out of the car and headed towards the temple.
Bus stops in India are equipped with comfortable, wide benches, some with backs, some without backs. Nearby you can find a public restroom. Not far from the benches there are trade shops, where right in the open air in large cauldrons they fry delicious dough products, for example, samosa. Other products are also tasty, but I do not know their names. Directly behind the shop, there is a small room with tables and benches, there is also a refrigerator with drinks. Travelers sit in the cool at the tables and eat the delicacies they just bought from disposable plates, seasoning them with ketchup.
* * *
The Hindu temple is a separate world, an amazingly beautiful architectural ensemble of marble, granite, limestone, and stone. Even the smallest temple in some lost Indian village is built as a small copy of its grandiose original with the repetition of all the necessary elements of style, with statues of Krishna, Vishnu, Shiva, Ganesh, Kali. In a different way, the statues of the Indian gods are called murti, that is, the “material form of God”, otherwise it can be expressed by the word “idol”. During the installation of the statue, the clergy from the highest caste of the Indian society, the Brahmans, conduct a special pran-pratistha ceremony, during which they ask God to incarnate in this statue. Every detail of the statue, every attribute of it has a specific meaning. For example, the crescent moon in the hair of Lord Shiva is a vessel with the nectar of immortality, it symbolizes control over the mind.
