It is May 2012.
The heat reflects off the
untarred roads creating simmering images of the infamous Indian summers.
42 degrees. 43 degrees. 44
degrees.
You can have a safe bet on
the temperature unlike the rupee, unlike the country's economy, unlike the
country's GDP. It will never fail you.
In this heat, a cooler
buzzes in a one-room house in the Shakurpur Basti .
Occasionally, a goods train passes by while passengers wait for their locals.
In this basti, I meet three women- all the faces of a common woman of India . Dressed
in sarees as is still the tradition, their foreheads beautifully
decorated with the symbolic bindi, they are mothers to little children,
they are the wives to the men who remain out of their homes working, bringing
whatever they can. There is another thread that ties these women together, I
realize as I step out of one house and enter the other.
There were all child
brides.
No fathers were punished.
No grooms were punished. Nothing was reported.
No history comes out to
haunt you even when you have committed a crime. No enquiries called for even
when the brides shyly tell you that they were married off when they were 15 or
16 or 17. No one is accounted for.
Except for the bride.
Of course, some are happily
married, as they say.
But, some of them, they
have a little voice that hesitates when they talk about their marriage. It
could be anything… and yet.
And, this is Delhi , the country’s
capital that I am talking about.
I wonder what happens when
a child is married off- what circumstances surround her, what people tell her
about marriage. I fall in the "lucky women" category and for the most
part of the rest of my life, I will fall in that category as will my daughters.
Yes! Our forefathers, the
creators of independent India
thought about us- their progeny. They thought about how we will live in an
independent country, and they thought about what we will have to our discourse.
They raided the constitutions of the developed worlds to write a Constitution
of our own- a remarkable achievement, a symbol of pride, a heritage.
This fascinates me. Completely.
ReplyDeleteI think of myself at any age younger than when I chose to get married (and that was considered young, at 23) and I can't even imagine. What a different life it could have been.
Thank you for writing this. I'm equally horrified and fascinated.
(I hope that's not terrible to say...)
No, of course I understand Corinne. Sometimes I think of it the same way...
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