Tales of Bengal. Satya Bhushan Bandyopadhyay
them good counsel in times of difficulty.
There is some truth in the notion that fortune's gifts seldom come singly. Kumodini Babu's success in a business venture was immediately followed by one in his domestic affairs. It fell out in this wise. Shám Babu's daughter, Shaibalini, was still unmarried, though nearly thirteen and beautiful enough to be the pride of Kadampur. Money was, indeed, the only qualification she lacked, and Shám Babu's comparative poverty kept eligible suitors at a distance. For three years he had sought far and wide for a son-in-law and was beginning to fear that he might, after all, be unable to fulfil the chief duty of a Hindu parent. One evening his wife unexpectedly entered the parlour where he was resting after a heavy day at office.
"Why has the moon risen so early?" he asked.
"Because the moon can't do otherwise," she answered, with a faint smile. "But, joking apart, I want to consult you about Saili. Our neighbour Kanto Babu's wife called on me just before you returned from Calcutta, and, after beating about the bush, suggested Kumodini Babu's younger son, Nalini, as a suitable match for her."
Shám Babu's face wore a worried look.
"Surely that would be flying too high for such as us," he rejoined. "The Basus are comparatively rich, and very proud of their family which settled here during the Mughal days (i.e., before British rule, which in Bengal date from 1765). Young Nalini is reading for his B.A. examination and wants to be a pleader (advocate). Kumodini Babu would hardly allow his son to marry the daughter of a poor clerk."
"Still, there is no harm in trying," remarked the wife. "If you don't feel equal to approaching him, there's Kanto Babu who would do so. It was his wife who broached the subject to me, which makes me think that they have been discussing it together."
"An excellent idea," exclaimed Shám Babu. "I'll go to him at once." And taking his stick, he set out for Kanto Babu's house, which was barely fifty yards off. In half an hour he returned to gladden his wife with the news that their neighbour had consented to act as a go-between.
Kanto Babu was as good as his word. That very evening he called on Kumodini Babu, whom he found reading the Mahábhárata (an epic poem). After dwelling now on this matter, now on that, he asked casually:—
"Have you never thought of getting Nalini married? He is over twenty, I believe."
"My wife has been urging me to look out for a wife for him, but in my opinion he is too young for such responsibilities. Better wait till he has passed the B.A. examination."
"Your wife's idea is sounder than yours, if I may be permitted to say so. Just think of the awful temptations to which unmarried students are exposed in that sink of profligacy, Calcutta! How many promising lads have succumbed to them, wrecking their own lives and causing bitter grief to their parents!"
Kumodini Babu started. "You surprise me! I had no idea that Calcutta was as bad as you paint it. We must certainly get Nalini married at once. I wonder whether you know of a likely match for him. I don't care about money, but——"
"That I do," interrupted Kanto Babu. "There's Shám Babu's daughter, Shaibalini. What a pretty creature she is; modest, loving and kind-hearted! You won't find her equal in this eláqa (lit. jurisdiction). If you approve, I will gladly be your spokesman with her family."
Kumodini Babu mused awhile before answering. "I know Shaibalini well by reputation, and she is all you describe her. Shám Babu, too, comes of excellent lineage, though he is not a Zemindar, and depends on service. I should not object to marrying Nalini with his daughter. But wait a bit: what gotra (clan) does he belong to?"
"I believe he is a Dakhin Rárhi," answered Kanto Babu.
"But I am an Uttar Rárhi," remarked Kumodini Babu. "Is not that a fatal objection?"
For the benefit of non-Hindu readers I may explain that Kayasthas are split into clans—probably a survival of the tribal organisation which preceded the family almost everywhere. According to tradition, a King of Bengal named Ádisur imported five Brahmans, and as many Kayastha servants from Kanauj in Upper India. From the latter are descended the Ghosh, Basu, Mitra, Guha, and Datta families. The first four are generally recognised as Kúlin (Angl., "aristocratic") Kayasthas, while the Dattas and seven other families are known as Sindhu Maulik—"coming of a good stock". Ádisur and his companions found 700 Brahmans and the same number of Kayasthas already established in Bengal. These are the supposed ancestors of a large number of Kayastha families still termed Saptasati, "the Seven Hundred". The ancient Greeks reckoned their neighbours beyond the Hellenic pale as "barbarians". So Brahmans and Kayasthas of Central Bengal styled their congeners north of the Ganges Rárh, or "uncivilised". The epithet survives in Uttar (north) and Dakhin (south) Rárhi, but has lost its offensive meaning. Bárendra is another phrase for the inhabitants of a tract north of the Ganges, which answers to the modern districts of Rajshahi, Pabna, and Bogra.
Kanto Babu was evidently perplexed; but after reflecting for a short time he asked, "Now why should such a trifling matter cause any trouble whatever? The time has long since passed away when arbitrary difference of clan was considered a bar to marriage among Kayasthas."
"You are quite right," was Kumodini Babu's reply, "and personally I am above these old-fashioned prejudices. My daughter-in-law may be Dakhin Rárhi, Banga-ja, or Bárendri for all I care, provided she be comely, well-mannered and come of good stock. But will Shám Babu be equally tolerant?"
"That I can't say until I have consulted him," answered Kanto Babu. "One thing more I must know. What is your idea of Dená Páona (a word answering to our 'settlements')?"
"Rám, Rám!" exclaimed Kumodini Babu. "Am I the man to sell my son for filthy lucre? I hear that Calcutta folks occasionally do so, but I am quite opposed to the custom. Should Shám Babu agree to this match, I will make no stipulations whatever as to a money payment. He is in very moderate circumstances, and may give whatever he chooses. Please see him at once and let me have his decision."
Kanto Babu promised to do so and withdrew, inwardly chuckling over his diplomacy.
Shám Babu called on him the same evening to learn its issue. He was delighted to find that Kumodini Babu was not averse to the match, but his face fell on hearing of the difference of clan. Observing his agitation, Kanto Babu observed gently, "I don't see why a matter, which is not even mentioned in our Shástras (holy books), should cause one moment's hesitation. Pluck up your courage, man, and all will go well."
"Perhaps so," murmured Shám Babu. "But I do stand in awe of the Samáj" (a caste-assembly which pronounces excommunication for breaches of custom).
"That's all nonsense! Look at our friend Kunjalál Babu who has just married his son to a Bárendri girl. Is he an outcast? Certainly not. It is true that the ultra-orthodox kicked a bit at first; but they all came round, and joined in the ceremony with zest. I can quote scores of similar instances to prove that this prejudice against marrying into a different clan is quite out of date."
Shám Babu had nothing to urge in opposition to these weighty arguments. He promised to let Kanto Babu have a definite reply on the morrow and kept his word. Having endured a curtain lecture from his wife, who proved to him that an alliance with the Basu family offered advantages far outweighing the slight risk there was of excommunication, he authorised Kanto Babu to assure Kumodini Babu that the proposed match had his hearty approval. Once preliminaries were satisfactorily settled, all other arrangements proceeded apace. The Páká Dekhá is a solemn visit paid by males of the future bridegroom's family to that of his betrothed, during which they are feasted and decide all details regarding the marriage ceremonies. It passed off without a hitch, and the purohit (family priest) fixed Srávan 17th as an auspicious day for consummating the union. Thenceforward preparations were made for celebrating it in a manner worthy of the esteem in which both families were held.
Kumodini Babu issued invitations to all his relatives. Chief amongst these was a younger brother, Ghaneshyám Basu by name, who practised as a pleader (advocate) at Ghoria, where he had built a house after disposing of his interest in the family estate to Kumodini