Kumudini's Husband

One

CHAPTER ONE

Under the Chhadnatala, a frail young girl was sitting on a square seat, shouldered by four men on the edges. Conches blew, accompanied by ullu-dhwani. And the girl slowly parted the two betel leaves. Her lowered eyelashes fluttered and she raised her eyelids in reluctance. The hesitation and anticipation gave away as her eyes landed on the handsome visage of the young man standing in front.

'What a man! What handsome features!' The young women had gasped, when they saw him enter the threshold of the wedding.

'Seems that the Almighty has descended on Earth to marry you, Kumu,' They had joked. 'God-like in features. God-like in deeds. Tell us, which secret fast did you maintain?'

The women had been giggling and jostling her, with meaningful smirks and glances. However, Kumudini hadn't reacted to these jests for she had been in a similar plexus earlier. The only difference being that the groom was old and had been married for fourteen times before. Fourteen times! Oh, how had her heart, soul and mind rebelled that marriage!

The wedding had been incomplete because the old groom's fourteenth wife had given birth to twins - a son and a daughter. The daughter, however, had died on the day of birth. But the son continued to live. There was a sudden merry-making for which of the two reasons, Kumu couldn't decipher. Perhaps, for both. She had heard that most of the old man's wives had given birth to females and his two sons had died in their childhood. And that time, the old man thought it important to celebrate the birth of his son and perhaps the death of another....
Hence, leaving Kumu lagnabhrashta.

Kumu, had been left with a black spot on her living. Her mother thrashed, sobbed and consoled her alike. Her father spitted fire at her. A 'disgrace' she had become for her family and the society. Meanwhile, this marked the arrival of a young doctor of law from England. A London-return barrister - Prithwish Chandra Bannerjee.

On learning how his long-related old uncle had left a young girl disgraced, he had decided to undo the wrongs. He would marry her for if he didn't no one else would. She would have to live abandoned and insulted throughout her life. And all this for no fault of hers.
On one hand to bring about a reform in the outlook of the society and on the other hand to erase the blackness imposed on her, he had stepped up to marry the Kumudini.

The Shubhodrishti had locked their eyes for the first time ever. Her eyes saw the sudarshan groom, who would be her husband. It all felt like a dream. Her inward eye drew parallels about the earlier scenario where an old man with betel stained teeth was grinning and gawking at her. How had her self gagged at that sight! And now, this.... A pleasant smile spread across his face. His eyes had restricted their arena to only her eyes, marking the profound respect that he had for his young wife. A few seconds passed and his eyes blinked once. Perhaps, intentional. He was assuring her safety or so did she feel.

The former taunts, trauma, anticipation and fear seemed to ebb away from her body. And the lush pink that tinged her cheeks during the saat paak had manovuered into red when he filled her hairline with the vermilion. She had been tied into a bond for her births and re-births. Little did she know, what their fortune had kept for them in waiting.

The Bashor raat, Kumudini had chosen to spend in seclusion, accompanied only by her mother for some time.

"Do you like him, Rani?" Her mother, Kamala asked.

She gave no response. Instead, hugged her face in her mother's chest.

"O maa!" Kamala pulled up her face by her chin. "Lojja?" And pulled Kumud into a tight embrace. "What a God-like man! Always treasure him, my girl. Thik?"