JASMINE FLOWERS by Prateeksha Khot (digital ebook reader .txt) 📕

Jasmine Flowers

It's never too late to start living.........

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Slowly she raised the butt of the lighted cigarette and took a puff. Just like she had seen him do it. And realized with great surprise that she actually enjoyed it. Admittedly, the first time was unpleasant but the second and the third got her used to the nicotine flavor and she blew another ring of smoke. It was true - it was indeed fun. Right again, as he had always been............


The atmosphere was tense as all waited with bated breath for the reply. It was worse than waiting for exam results, even worse than the wait for medical test reports. Finally , the guy's mother said,

"Use ladki pasand hai. Ye rishta hamen manjoor hai !"("He liked the girl. We are ready for their marriage"). The relief for the girl's relatives was intense but it wouldn't have looked good to display so. Instead with smiles on their faces, they passed around sweets to celebrate this joyous occasion. In all the hullabaloo, no one noticed the quiet communication which took place between them through their eyes.
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He was right, as always..

She had been scared when he had professed his love for her, certain that her parents would never agree to a love marriage. That was a taboo - not only for them but for everyone in the village. It was never considered a good sign of the character of the person to fall in love. Such people where deemed to be of "loose character". But she was helpless. She wasn't sure when she herself had fallen in love with him. Was it the time when she caught him slyly staring at her while she filled pots of water from the well ? Or was it when he

had caught her trying to listen and learn-she had to leave school to support her family- through the windows of the classroom as he taught the students. She didn't know. And she knew that she would never know. The only thing she knew was that there would be immense trouble for both of them if anyone knew.

But he had been calm. "If I say to my parents that I love a girl, my parents will never agree for the marriage. But. If they get the proposal through a mediator without them knowing
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about our love then no one can stop us from being together."

And so the plan was had been set. For this they involved his best friend. During a casual dinner his friend just let it drop while conversing with the parents that there was a girl of marriageable age in the village who would be ideal for their son.
"I heard that they have set aside a considerate amount as dowry for their eldest daughter."
In a way, that had done the trick. His parents had been happy to find an alliance which they thought would be beneficial to their family and her parents had been equally happy to find a boy for their daughter without any effort.

Thus the social meet facade in front of the others, the success of the plan meaning that they would finally to be united in a sacred relation. Her parents happy to get rid of atleast one daughter, his parents happy for the dowry that they would be getting. But they were the only two people in the room who were happy in the true sense, happy for a very beautiful and divine reason - LOVE.
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She lit another cigarette. Thinking that their worries would be over now, she had prepared herself for only happiness and more happiness. Hoping, no believing, that they would live happily ever after. But she had forgotten that such endings existed only in books and movies not in real life.........

It was as if no one had spoken anything. Or maybe she couldn't hear anymore. She just stood still even as the others around her burst out crying fake tears and displaying vulgar sadness. But her ; only one sentence engulfed her mind as she tried to absorb the full meaning of what was told to her -HE IS DEAD. Dead, her beloved husband , the one who had taken the " saath pheras "

, the one who had promised and taken the holy wows during their marriage to be with her for seven births, had left her forever, not fulfilling his promise for even this lifetime.
"You witch! You inauspicious being! You took away my son's life! He was happy and alive before his marriage to you but see what you did to him. If I had known you would bring such ill-luck I would never had got him married to you."
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"It was not just her inauspiciousness mother, " the youngest daughter said, "she is a witch who planned my brother's death. Do you know what he was doing when he met with the accident? He was bringing her jasmine flowers. I myself heard her throwing a tantrum around him in the morning, ordering him to bring her jasmine flowers to put them in her hair."
Accusations and cursings ensued but she was oblivious to them all. It was her fault indeed. She had asked him to get the jasmine flowers and he had met with an accident while bringing them. If she had not persisted, he would still have been alive.
It was all her fault........


That was what she had been let to believe. And that was what she had herself believed. Through all those years of pain, loneliness, torture, guilt, grief - it was all her fault....


She knew her life was worthless without him. Without him,
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she was just a body without a soul. She could never forgive herself for being the cause of his death and so the ill treatment metted out to her by his family did not hurt her. The condition of the widows was still bad in her village and being a young widow at that meant more sufferings. She was not allowed to leave her house. The only piece of clothing given to her was a white saree. Food was meager, worse than that of even a beggar. She was not allowed to mix with others, take part in the festivals, nothing. But she never minded that. Infact she preferred the solitude. It allowed her to silently grieve his untimely death. Day in and day out, she continued to quietly endure. Until that day......


Picking up the hand mirror from the small wooden table near the desk, she looked into the mirror. And stared at her reflection as if seeing it for the first time. She had not touched a mirror in a long, long time. Her hand went automatically to her bald ,clean shaven head and she shuddered a little as the scenes of that day vividly
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came alive in front of her eyes....


One of the 'important rituals' of preparing the widows for a life of eternal damnation was the chopping off of their hair. It was believed that a woman should groom herself only for her husband and if he was dead then she had no right to look pretty. Hair is an important aspect of a woman's beauty and hence it is shaven so that she doesn't 'yield to temptation' or become a 'source of temptation' to the weak-willed men. She is not allowed to grow her hair again. The preparations for the ceremony had been completed without her knowledge and she was called down in the foyer and made to sit on the stool without been told why. But as the barber brought the razor down, she finally understood what her in-laws were planning to do and in desperation screamed. '
NNNNNOOOOO. You can't shave off my head. I have listened to and followed everything that you ordered me to. But this is too much. I will not allow you to touch my hair!"
"Look at the conniving witch! Not wanting to pay for her
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sins! Her husband is dead and all she is worried about is her hair and her beauty.Now she seems to have plans to trap her dead husband's younger brother ! Just look at her !"
No matter what, she thought, she will not shave off her hair. Not for her, but for him. "Your hair is like the dark sky, like the kajal

in the eye. Don't ever cut it". He used to love her luscious black hair and would always play with them. He loved pinning up the jasmine flowers in her hair.The small garlands- called gajra

- were lush with the tiny, beautiful, sweet smelling white jasmine flowers and they enhanced the beauty of the crowning glory. Jasmine flowers... The jasmine flowers she had sent him to buy... The jasmine flowers he had died while bringing...
She quietly sad down and did not utter a word until the barber had finished his job......


She stopped after the third cigarette had been stubbed. Her eyes fell on the cross which hung from her neck. It brought a smile to her face, something which she had
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rarely done in the past years. And something which she tried to do now more often during her stay in the old age home.The place which had brought her close to so many like her: parents thrown out by their children, in-laws left here by their daughter-in-laws, loners with with one to look after them. Each had a story to narrate and people to listen and console them. She was in a way, quite happy here, away from the torments of her in-laws relatives. And all this had been a coincidence.......


She couldn't believe that she had actually run away from the house. It was all in the spur of the moment, the treatment was becoming too much to handle by her frail body. She now had nowhere to go, no money, nothing; she definitely couldn't go back to that obnoxious place. As she was deliberating what to do, she saw a lady who had finished her Sunday mass coming towards her . It was then she realized that she was sitting across a church. The realization that God was a witness to her woes and would provide her help to
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enable her to go through these trying and testing times gave her a bit of hope. God will surely send his angel to help me, she thought and hoped fervently.

As if God had been listening to her prayers and answered them, the lady stopped in front of her and asked, with kindness in her eyes and tenderness in her voice, "What are you doing dear standing in the heat ?" . When she didn't reply, the lady took a long look at her and asked, "You do have a home, don't you? Or are you homeless?". When she nodded slightly, the lady took her hand and leading her said ,"Come with me. I know a place which you can call your home. There are many like you over there and you will get protected from the most dangerous illness of old age : Loneliness."

And that was how she had come to be here. Hoping to start her life afresh. She couldn't thank the lady enough for displaying such kindness. While leaving she had quietly placed the cross in her palm and