Mountains Are Calling - Chapter 3 - Malabika Ray Choudhury's Blog

Link To Chapter 2:

https://www.poetrysoup.com/poetry/blogs/blog_detail.aspx?PoetID=125554&BlogID=40519

Dear Soupers,
Really delighted to let you know I am travelling in my hometown of India, and having an amazing time! I recently had a Book-Talk event in one of the prestigious halls - they graciously allowed me to hold the event and organized everything for me - I was super excited! I was supported by two friends - one, my music teacher, the other - my friend, who is a professor of electronics (Debjani Mitra, one of our poet-members). I have to confess - it was a blast!

As I have mentioned before, I am translating my book on Indian life after Partition - posted two chapters before. I will give the links to the first two chapters - this one is the third!

Link To Chapter 1:

https://www.poetrysoup.com/poetry/blogs/blog_detail.aspx?PoetID=125554&BlogID=40519

Chapter 3 - Our Family


My eldest sister, Maya, readily got married. She was beautiful, there was a proposal from the famous Dutta Choudhury clan of Sylhet, in a few months she got married, and left us for her husband’s home far away. Travel was not easy in those days, there were no buses, trams, or cars! Trains were running, but how many people could afford that? The only transport to some villages were boats.


My sister left - I used to feel sad - how lovingly she oiled my hair! I knew what her favourite dishes were! In her in-law’s place, is anyone taking care of her favourite food? Perhaps she is the one who is cooking for others! Hope her mother-in-law is treating her well, loves her...she is very soft, she used to burst into tears for every little reason!


Maja went far, next was Aarati - my second sister. When she was around fifteen - there was a marriage proposal for her from far away Karimgunj in Assam. Assam? Where on earth was that? No one asked Arati - “Are you okay with going away so far? Aren’t you going to feel sad? You won’t be able to see your own family for a very long time!” No, she was not asked. She got married. Groom came from far away Assam. Arati, a little girl, she was only fifteen. Groom had some white hair - he was almost twenty years older than Arati. He belonged to a wealthy family - they possessed a few tea-gardens in Assam. Arati would never suffer from poverty. For men, being thirty-five was not a big deal! Groom’s elder brother came with him -

My two elder sisters were gone! Now, who would oil my hair, put them in braids! Who would save me from inquiring eyes? I was                                                                                                                                                   growing bigger..I looked at my own body sometimes..and ask myself - “why did this happen to me? I haven’t seen anyone else with the same kind of scars!” But I didn't feel too sad.. My parents decided to educate me like they did for their sons, to give me the opportunity to stand on my own feet. I was going to school - I was learning to read, and write - I was doing what my sisters weren’t given the opportunity to accomplish.


Both sisters were gone..but, like the illuminating sun rays, someone else joined our household - my sister-in-law, Kalyani. My eldest brother graduated from Serampore Textile Engineering College in West Bengal, and started working for Dhakeswari Cotton Mill in Dhaka. Dhakeswari Mill, owned by Suryya Basu, was enjoying their golden days - the muslin fabric they wove was the best in the world. My brother was the handsomest man I have ever seen, so was his bride, my sister-in-law - the most beautiful lady I had ever seen.


My brother was originally named “Hirendra Mohan'' synchronizing with names of our fathers and uncles, but he chose and took his simpler, but modern home-name “Sisir” as official. My brother went to the village “Astagram '' to marry Kalyani - where her ancestral home was, although my sister-in-law did not grow up in that village. Her Father worked as a manager of a tea-garden in Assam. She grew up in that tea-garden with her six siblings. She went to study in a primary school run by missionaries, but they did not have any high school close by. She was tutored at home for a while, and then she got prepared for the school-leaving exam, staying at her uncle’s residence at Karimgunj, Assam. Two days after she got married, the bride with a veil covering her head, appeared for the final school-leaving exams.


My sister-in-law’s father, Gnanendrakishore Duttaray, was an artistic and talented person. He used to play organ and sang patriotic songs to his children who also inherited that musical trait. Each and everyone of his children was endowed with a beautiful musical voice. His eldest daughter was Kalyani, apple of his eyes, and he found a suitable match for her - my brother, Sisir. But luck played a sinister game...a few months before the wedding was to take place, when Gnanendrakishore was supervising the dainty floral wood-carvings on his daughter’s bed, he fell sick with high fever for three days, when he was almost in coma, GnanedraKishore left this world. His mother, whom he was the only child, was still alive. And he left his seven children, the youngest daughter only four.


After one year of this terrible tragedy, my brother eventually got married to Kalyani. Some relatives were disgruntled - are you going to get your son to marry this girl? Her father passed away out of the blue, a few months before the wedding was supposed to take place! He was a healthy man, quite young..passed away from some disease called Meningitis!


At this time, my father and my uncle showed extreme wisdom and mental strength. They said - “so what? We had promised this girl’s father that we would welcome her to our family, we are not going to deviate from our promise. Our son will marry this girl, we will wait for a year”. I actually feel really proud when remembering the wise words of my father and my uncle.

They were very much enlightened not to follow the superstitious beliefs in those days. That’s why my life didn’t turn into a misery. The day I joined Bidyamayi Girls School, with my head high…my future was decided.


Even after my brother got married to Kalyani, she stayed with us in the same place, the upstairs quarter of the building where the bank operated.

In those days, that was the custom - the brides did not follow their grooms wherever they worked. My brother, Sisir, used to live in a house provided by the textile mill, and come home on the weekends. My sister-in-law loved and took care of me as my elder sisters did - she perfectly exemplified the name “Kalyani”, in every aspect of beauty, talents, and personality. I have never seen such a kind woman in my entire life!


My sister-in-law brought great fortune to our household, she accepted all members, especially me, as her own family. She took care of me as she did, of her own sisters. For many people it is hard to believe what I am saying - oh no, sister-in-laws are always considered as enemies…they usually avoid each other, how can they get along that well! But it really happened with us. My sister-in-law, Kalyani, was like Goddess Lakshmi, and I loved her in happiness and in sorrow.


Forgot to mention an incident immediately after Boudi’s (sister-in-law) marriage. Kalyani was the eldest daughter of Gnanedra Kishore Duttaray, who he doted on. He got an extravagant amount of jewellery designed for her, although he had four more daughters. When he left this world after a sudden and short sickness, the wedding  was postponed for a year.


The administration of the tea-garden was gracious enough to offer a job to his eldest son, Barindra. But Kalyani’s grandmother, Shyama Sundari, said - “No, I have lost my only child here, we are not going to live here any more. I have prayed intently to God every day of my whole life, God has taken my only child from my lap, I am not going to pray to Him ever again.”


After a year of Gnanedra Kishore’s death, they returned to their ancestral village of Astagram, and Kalyani’s wedding was performed. Kalyani’s mother, Kusum Kumari - the widow, with her old and ailing mother-in-law and six more children, performed her daughter’s wedding. She had cut her long beautiful hair very short, and she was wearing a white saree without even a border. Shyama Sundari lived for barely two more years, but she never prayed again, as she had vowed.


Relatives advised Kusum Kamini - “you have four more daughters, how are you going to get them married? Don’t give all the jewellery to your eldest daughter, save some for others”. Probably the advice was right. All jewellery which Kalyani was supposed to receive, were cut into half…the long chain of her neck got cut in half, she still had armlets, but no bracelets. Instead of eight bangles on each arm, she got four. The long earrings (Kanpasha) were replaced by small (Jhumko) ones.



When Kalyani was approaching her in-law’s house in a palanquin, my mother and aunts hatched a plan. They wouldn’t allow their relatives and neighbours to talk about the bride’s scant jewellery… people love to talk about these things!  My sisters and I went to the spot nearby where the palanquin stopped for a moment - my mother sent the jewellery which were gifted from our family. We decorated the bride with that gorgeous gold - so that nobody noticed any lack of it…My Boudi looked stunning!  

Thanks Everyone! Please let me know your feedback - your comments are precious!

Malabika Ray