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In Hinduism, the spiritual principle is called Brahman. Brahman is the absolute beginning of everything existing in the universe, it is neither good nor bad, it is impassive, infinite and unchanging. It is nirgunam or qualityless. Brahman consists of three gods – Brahma-forces, which creates, Vishnu-forces, which protects, Shiva-forces, which destroys.
You enter the Hindu temple and walk on cool, white, pure marble, walk towards a smiling Indian god and smile at him too, the sweet aroma of Indian incense hangs in the air. The atmosphere of goodness, love envelops like a cloud, and your heart thaws, everything that is outside of the temple is forgotten. Then comes the understanding that you are alone with this Earth with God, that you come into this light alone and live alone, and around you only him, God, exposed in the bodies of people, phenomena and events. It takes the form of different people and circumstances, and each time it asks you its own questions.
According to Indian philosophy, the soul is ignorant. It will be reborn again and again, participating in the cycle of life and death, which is called the “wheel of the Sansara”, until it knows the truth. One soul in every life is born in different bodies – it can be a microbe, an insect, an animal, a man, at the end of rebirth a pure soul becomes a part of Brahma. In the process of circulation, the soul goes to purgatory, where it is to redeem sins for the acts committed, or, on the contrary, it finds peace for good deeds in life.
* * *
So, we went to the temple. My future husband’s sister and I stayed inside, and he and his father left after talking with the temple attendant. I and his sister and her child sat for a long time on a clean white marble floor.
What we did and why we sat there, I did not understand, there was no one to ask, his sister did not know English, except for some well-known words, and I did not know Hindi to ask her. From time to time we smiled sweetly at each other and looked at each other sympathetically, complaining about the incredible heat. A fan was driving hot air. They brought me a glass of fresh juice, which I drank with pleasure. A cool stream of cold drink was most welcome.
In India, they make juice right in front of a client. There is a small shop on the street with ladles and a juicer like a meat grinder, near the shop there are a lot of fruits. The shop assistant immediately prepares a juice from any fruit you like.
Two hours passed, and then a young man came with his father. I was asked to go to the altar. The priest hung us on the neck in a flower garland and said something in Hindi. Then each of us put a spot on the forehead with red paint. I thought it was some kind of preliminary proceedings before the wedding, because in weddings usually there are many guests in fancy dresses. But we were alone.
We moved away from the altar, and Tenardieu with disgust wiped off the red spot on his forehead, fearing that anyone could see him.
– Now everyone thinks you forced me to marry you, wipe off the paint from your forehead too, – he hissed viciously.
– What?
– I just got married to you. – He answered rudely, turned around and left the temple.
When we left the temple and got into the car, a friend of my husband, Mandip, congratulated us and said that now we were a couple.
In the evening, my newly-made husband bought a bottle of cheap wine and samosa. Samosa is like our modified samsa, just not flat, and instead of meat, there are vegetables inside.
My mother-in-law, who was radically opposed to our marriage, never for a second left us alone, and my husband’s attitude towards me always changed to a sharply negative one at her presence.
I will make a short digression and describe my mother-in-law. My mother-in-law, according to my calculations, was eight to nine years older than me, and my father-in-law was exactly ten years older than me. My husband was ten years younger than me. Mother-in-law was about forty two years old, but she looked like fifty. She did not study anywhere except in several classes of school.
Her face which used to be fresh and pretty years ago, her huge, shiny, sapphire-like eyes framed by long, terry, fan-shaped eyelashes was wrinkled, and once the lacquer-black thick hair was almost all sparse and gray. When she was angry, she was distinguished by almost bestial rudeness in behavior and forced loud laughter. She wore salvar-kameez and she covered her head with a translucent dupatta fabric, as befits all married women. Her right shoulder was always noticeable below the left because of hard work. She almost always wore the same clothes as it is normal in villages all over the world. On a thin, wrinkled neck, she wore a gold pendant on a black rope; in her ears, she wore small gold hoop earrings. As for the point on the forehead, my dear mother-in-law drew it to herself only when she went to the city to the bazaar. She had one trait that gave her charm: when she was in my presence quarreling with someone and screaming, making scary eyes, at the same time she laughed with a coquettish, unnatural laugh.
So she never left us alone. And on our wedding day, it was the same. The three of us sat in the bedroom on our bed – me, Tenardieu and his mother. It was late, but she did not leave. They talked about something in Hindi, it even seemed to me that they were cursing, trying not to show it.
We did not celebrate this event in the restaurant. There was nothing festive – neither guests, nor a beautiful sari, nor gold jewelry, nor a honeymoon. I got married in the marine blue Punjabi suite I bought when I came to India. And instead of the restaurant, Tenardieu bought cheap wine with samosa, and so we were going to celebrate together. And even this mother-in-law did not allow us to do.
– Mom, go to your room, we just got married, let us sit together and celebrate the wedding, said my newly-made husband.
– I’m not going anywhere, – his mother replied and looked at me viciously at me.
– Go, I said, – he insisted, and my mother-in-law eventually left, so we were left alone and sat silently.
My mother-in-law went and the husband poured the wine into glasses. We sat for a while and went to bed.
Night covered the village with a heavy veil. A minute ago, the voices of passers-by were heard on the street, an angry dog barking could be heard from afar, and suddenly everything died down at once.
Initially, Tenardieu quarreled with his mother and her relatives, stood up for me. He even quarreled once on the street with my mother-in-law’s sister and her family, who lived next door, and told me:
– I quarreled today with the whole family. Do not betray me ever.
– I promise.
But over time, he went over to the side of his own mother, who hated me and began to resemble a tyrant feudal, who had only me in submission. He slandered me at any suitable moment when I was not around. He came to the bedroom and tormented me with his sullen silence.
I understood that his mother was discussing me with him. What he said to me after talking with her was disgusting.
“You have the face of a person one can’t trust. I will not go with you alone for the honeymoon. I’m afraid of you. You look like a Chinese woman. Mom is afraid to let me go with you. What if you are an agent from China?”
I laughed in response. I was invited to a man, and he himself was scared. I thought it was a bad joke. The young man kept saying the same thing.
– I do not trust you. Mom says I’m too young, I’m younger than you and married being a virgin to you.
– Is it you a virgin? You tell this fairytale to your mom. And I already know all the stories about you. You yourself told me everything. That’s it, tomorrow I’m leaving. Stay with your mom.
– Leave. Take a suitcase and go on foot, if you know where to go. I will not give you a car.
– You know perfectly well that I cannot leave without your help. Take me to the airport, please.
– But it is you who wants to leave. Why should I help you?
Then he dissuaded me from leaving. As it later turned out, he was afraid that the neighbors would laugh at him.
* * *
India is a country, only one-third of which is visible to the ordinary human eye. The rest of the country is invisible. However, the indigenous population is aware of its existence. Hence, many rituals, prayers, mantras, temples, priests. There are a lot of different strange events happening on Indian soil – I don’t know what kind of power is behind these events. The priests say that India comes into the life of a certain person for one mystical reason known to her. Also, the priests add that if India does not come to a person, means the person is not ready for this yet.
If India loves the person, then it gives him a sacred knowledge. A person is endowed with a special gift. Many Indians have innate abilities for hypnosis and magic, are able to predict the future, they see prophetic dreams.
Once I noticed after myself that for some time after arriving in India I began to have dreams that came true in three to five days. There was nothing terrible in these dreams; I just saw in a dream some situations that in a few days came true.
The Indian people have their little secrets. So, my mother-in-law, before eating sweets for some reason, pinched a small piece from them and threw it somewhere to the side. Only then she began to eat treats. I don’t know why she did it; I didn’t see dogs and cats next to her.
In India there is polytheism. Most of all I like the story of the god Ganesh. Ganesh is the son of the gods Shiva and Parvathi, who was born with a human body and head. The god Shani looked at the boy, and the child’s head burned. Then the god Shiva added to the baby the head of an elephant – the first animal encountered by the servants.
He is also called Shri Ganesh. Sri is a respectful prefix.
God Ganesh, kind and just, helps travelers and those who love to gain knowledge. Thus, this god is closer to me than all the other Indian gods.
The god Ganesh, who has the head of an elephant and the body of a man, pray as follows: “Om gam ganapataye namaha”. This mantra removes obstacles to a person. The first sound of the mantra “Om” – is the sound that first appeared in the newly created Universe.
* * *
Since we got married, I was supposed to wear Indian clothes, not European ones. Now I had to cover my head with a dupatta and draw a point on my forehead. In the morning I applied a red strip on the central hair part and draw a point on my forehead – bindi. The point in the forehead reminded me of the sunset of red Indian sun. How beautiful it looks on the forehead of a married woman in India! It seems to illuminate the house and family with its warmth, love, and wisdom.
The mother-in-law said that I now could not wear European clothes and that I could not walk alone now when I want to, that if I go somewhere, and then only accompanied. She also, through her son, told me that I had to wash the floors and do the cleaning every day in the whole house, as well as walk on the field and pick cotton by hands.
I also bought a special pencil and bottle with a red composition and tassel. It is exactly the same capacity as nail polish, but the consistency of the contents is different.
In India, there are many bindi options in various colors and sizes that stick to the skin and last until evening.
My sister-in-law brought me two boxes with multi-colored disposable bindies. There was a whole color palette of nature. In the first box, the bindi was simply circles of three millimeters in diameter; in the second box, the bindi was gilded, in the shape of a flower.
If I woke up in a good mood, then I put a green bindi on my forehead. If I woke up in a bad mood, then I put the red color – the color of the traffic light. Before visiting some house, I put an elegant bindi with gold leaf.
I also now wore five to six bracelets on each arm. They were imbued with gold, although they were made of plastic.
My husband did not give me gold jewelry. Although in India huge sums are spent on gold jewelry for wives. Despite the poverty of her husband, my mother-in-law walked all in gold from head to toe, as did the sister-in-law. For me, they bought everything from plastic and simple iron.
A couple of words about Indian gold should be mentioned. It is much higher quality than all other types of gold in the world. It is almost no impurities, it is yellow and it is high-carat gold. It is said that Indian women daily wear on themselves 10% of world gold reserves.
– We will buy gold for you when you start working and give us your salary, – said my husband.
– Will you buy me that gold on my money? – I asked laughing.
– You don’t even have a dowry. In India, a dowry is a pledge of happiness for newlyweds. And we do not demand anything from you. Therefore, we do not give anything. Just work in the office and give us the money you earn. Fifty-seventy thousand rupees a month is enough. We are honest people.
Then I told my mother-in-law that I had a dowry. If it is so important to them, then they will receive it. But my mother-in-law said that not things would do for them, but only cash.
– Ah, what a nice, kind family! Only seventy thousands per month! – I replied through laughter.
I sincerely wanted to be an obedient daughter-in-law and decided to start cleaning the house, but I did not find any rags, no buckets, no gloves, or a vacuum cleaner. At this time of the day, there was no one in the house except for me and my grandmother. She was sitting on the second floor. I went up to her and gestured to ask about cleaning equipment. She did not understand me and, waving her hand, asked me to make tea for us and go to rest after tea. That day we got along perfectly with grandmother Dadi and henceforth began to regularly drink tea together when there was no one in the house except us.
My mother-in-law continued to insist on my participation in running the household. She especially wanted me to pick cotton. Then I asked them to buy me thick gloves. After a while, my father-in-law still bought me crimson-colored rubber gloves, and I began to go with them to pick cotton.
Over time, I, my mother-in-law and grandmother distributed the duties of housekeeping in the house, and disputes no longer arose.
So my day began at ten in the morning. I woke up, took a shower, brushed up. My husband woke up at the same time, often later than me, but every time after waking up, he grabbed his phone and ran off somewhere upstairs, where no one disturbed him.
At that time I opened the windows and doors, cleaned the bed, laid out the scattered things in places, rubbed dust in the room, swept, washed the floors, and then burned scented candles. Then I closed the windows and doors of the room outside and went upstairs to make breakfast.
I mostly did not buy clothes. My sister-in-law or a girl-neighbor sewed fabrics with ready-made collars, it was more money saving.
Meena, my sister-in-law, often came to visit her parents’ house with her little daughter. The girl was a few months old. Pretty and plump, she was the darling of all family members.
My sister-in-law brought a sewing machine to the room, put it on the floor and sew wonderful dresses. My husband and I, his brother, my mother-in-law and someone else sat next to her, distracting the child with toys, so as not to interfere with the mother’s sewing.
In the early days, I was very uncomfortable with the constant presence of many people around me.
In my family, it is not customary to visit someone without an invitation or without a prior call, even to my closest relatives. During a visit to relatives, we never stay too long. I remember how, in childhood, every visit to grandparents, who lived far from us, was a real treat. We were invited a week before arrival so that we did not plan any events for this day. For our arrival, my dear grandmother cooked for us delicious salads, cakes, meatballs, all sorts of delicacies. My brother and sister and I behaved as at a reception, and did not allow ourselves to indulge, ate only with a knife and fork, did not fight with each other, were not noisy. On New Year’s holidays, we also gathered with our grandparents and cousins at the holiday table, which was full of different dishes. On holidays, grandmother took out silver from the cabinet and crystal vases for salads, a large gorgeous dining set brought from Europe many years ago. Then we, the children, had to go out to the guests and recite poems by heart. After a verse or song, every child received a storm of applause, praise, New Year’s greetings, wishes and the most pleasant thing – a New Year’s gift wrapped in sweetie paper. It was the noisiest time for me.
On other days, as a rule, we spent time by ourselves, in our own rooms, in our own house, in silence, doing our own business.
Therefore, being used to such a contrast in the first days of arrival in India, I often felt dizzy from the noise and conversations. I remember how I sat on the bed in the bedroom, my husband’s relatives were sitting around me, talking loudly, laughing, someone tugging at my shoulder. From the noise, my temperature rose and my head ached, in the end, I ran to the second floor, where there was no one. I sat in a chair on the balcony and enjoyed the silence. Several people came after me to the second floor.
Over time, I got used to the noise and the constant presence of relatives and neighbors. Also used to spicy food, so much so that without chili pepper, the food seemed tasteless.
People get used to everything over time.
* * *
My mother-in-law was smiling to my face, but behind me she was my enemy.
She was a good person, who just had other expectations about her daughter-in-law. Therefore, she, as she could, tried to adjust me to her standards.
I understood everything perfectly: what does she expect from me, what should I do to make her like me. But selfish mother-in-law is never satisfied with daughters-in-law. Therefore, one should not try hard, it is still useless.
I know that her plans were to find for her son an Indian girl from the village, obedient and silent, who would take over the whole life of themselves, who would bring a rich dowry to their home. At the same time, the choice of a son did not matter, because the mother-in-law chose a servant for herself, and not a son’s wife. And then her son brought me, a person after years of military service and after human rights activities.
I guess she did not know that her son always wanted to marry a foreigner and dreamed of living abroad.
I knew how to cook well and therefore began cooking. Mainly because I could not eat what my mother-in-law was cooking. Her food seemed to be tasteless, hastily cooked, without inspiration and without a soul, gruel for cattle. My husband told that she could cook only some temporary food.
Therefore, I announced that from now on I will cook for the whole family. I cooked sabji (different vegetables, stewed together), vegetable stew, spaghetti with sauce and pea soup dal, eggplant caviar. In India people cook in a pressure cooker on gas. First, oil is poured into the pressure cooker, spices are put, then the main ingredients of the preparing dish, then after a short roasting, the vegetables are poured over with water and tightly covered with a lid.
I missed my traditional food, sandwiches with sausage, toasts with jam and coffee, Russian salad, red borscht, mantas, Kazakh beshbarmak, my favorite Uzbek pilaf. At night, I saw them in my dreams. Sometimes I fried pies with potatoes and then treated everyone in the house.
Bread in India is not eaten every day, instead, they bake flatbread. Bread is made from traditional white bread in India, which translates as bread, but it is not just bread, but bread fried with vegetables, something like our bread fried with eggs.
In the first two months of life in India, I lost almost twenty kilograms. So if you want to lose weight, it is good to live in India.
We ate on the floor of small metal cups with small spoons. In other homes it is different. In general, it all depends on the wealth of the family. I brought with me a fork from Moscow and put it in a common dish with spoons and knives, but all the time my fork turned out to be under the cupboard, behind the bed, behind the refrigerator. I have no idea how it got there.
I did not use it in order not to offend others and not to differ from other family members. I sat on the floor with everyone and ate the same as they did. The only thing I could not do was eat roti flatbreads the way they did. Out of habit, I ate with a spoon, holding it in my right hand, and ate roti instead of bread, holding it in my left hand. They don’t do that in India, in India they tear off a small piece of roti and scoop food from it, eating at the same time. But since it was impossible for me not to mess my fingers with food, I preferred a spoon. For roti, there are special pans-thermos. After the roti is ready, put it in this thermos and close the lid. Thus roti does not wither and does not cool for a long time.
I cooked the food myself, cut the salad myself and laid everything out on plates and also took it to each family member myself. Then I poured all the lassi into cups and sat down to eat with the others. At this time my husband decorously, as if the king on the throne sat on the floor and waited for me to bring him food. I felt myself uncomfortable when doing all alone. As in my family husbands help their wives.
I remember how we had dinner all together on the floor in a room with a balcony, and my father-in-law looked at us all and smiled happily:
– Today we have a real family dinner.
We drank tea separately from the main meal. About two hours after eating.
In my homeland, it is customary to drink tea before meals or after meals and in large quantities. Various sweets and treats are served for tea, a whole table is served, and we sit for a long time at the table and talk or watch TV.
The word "chai", which means "tea" came to us from India. In Hindi, tea sounds like “chai” in Hindi same like in Russian “chai”. But Indian tea is prepared in India in a different way. In India, tea is prepared in a wide metal ladle. First, water is poured into the middle of the bucket. Two or three teaspoons of tea are thrown there, and then sugar, milk, and spices added. When the tea boils, the ladle is removed from the stove, and its contents are poured into cups. Cups are small, like piles. They are put on a tray, there is also a plate with cookies, and carried to the living room. Wife first gives tea to her father-in-law, then to grandmother, grandfather, mother-in-law, and her husband, and in the end, she takes a cup for herself.
When no one saw, we and Granny Dadi winked and drank plenty of tea and tea with milk and cookies, secretly from everyone.
In the first days after my arrival, due to politeness, I tolerated new traditions – I drank tea in one fifty-gram cup with a pair of cookies.
But one day, when my mother-in-law ordered to make tea for everyone, I made a whole pot of tea. Mother-in-law swore. But I still drank a liter of tea, while watching a movie, like at home.
I was cooking, and my mother-in-law was washing dishes. For dishwashing, she used a piece of special blue dish soap and a metal brush. One day, Dadi asked me how I washed dishes at home. I replied that the dishwasher washes the dishes: you press the button and it washes everything, you just have to put a special tablet and load the dishes.
Every day, when my father-in-law was at work, I cooked lunch for him, put it in containers and gave him to my husband. My husband passed the food to his younger brother, who took the bag with the container to the bus stop and handed over to the bus drivers who were traveling from the village to the bus station in Tohana. There they met my father-in-law and passed him his lunch.
Since I began to talk about my Dadi, I must say that this person was the only one who was sincerely kind to me. I think because my mother-in-law hated us both – me and Dadi.
