Dollar Bahu Read online

  ‘Are you not worried about your daughter, when she comes to marriageable age?” Gouramma asked.

  ‘No. What is going to happen with other girls here will happen to my daughter too. I know many Indian girls who have far more loose morals than American girls. Here, everything is in the open, but in India, since society does not accept such things, they do them anyway without the knowledge of their parents.’

  Gouramma’s mind was reeling. She felt she was seeing the world from a new perspective.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  One day Chandru said, ‘Amma, the button on my shirt has come off. Could you please stitch it on today?’ Gouramma usually did all such minor work during the afternoons. She hunted around for a sewing kit, and was surprised when she could not find one. She thought it may be in Jamuna’s wardrobe. Gouramma had never opened Jamuna’s wardrobe. She respected Jamuna’s privacy. When she opened the wardrobe in her hunt for the sewing kit, she saw a lot of saris in one corner and a pile of photo albums in the other. She located the kit underneath the photo albums, and just as she pulled out the small kit, the albums tumbled and fell.

  As she busily gathered them up, some pictures which had falled out of the albums caught her eye. There was a picture of Jamuna and Chandru at Niagara Falls. What caught Gouramma’s eyes was not the spectacular beauty of the Falls but what Jamuna was wearing. Gouramma immediately recognized it as the same chiffon sari which Jamuna had gifted Surabhi for her birthday during one of her visits. Curious, Gouramma looked through all the photographs very carefully. She recognized several of the saris Jamuna was wearing in the pictures.

  Gouramma was shocked. When Jamuna had said, ‘I specially brought these saris for you since they will suit your colour,’ Gouramma had praised her to the skies for her generosity. Gouramma preferred American saris as they did not fade even after frequent washing: they remained fresh. She now realized Jamuna had cleverly got rid of many of her old saris and had received so much appreciation and gratitude for that.

  How could Jamuna have behaved like this? There was nothing inherently wrong in passing on a used sari but, Gouramma felt, one should not lie about it. Jamuna had done it all so cleverly that even if Gouramma accused her of giving away old saris, she could always say, ‘Oh, I bought you an identical sari’ or ‘Where is the proof?’ and create a scene. But worse was to follow. Gouramma found a photograph taken at Jamuna’s cousin’s wedding. Jamuna and her mother had posed along with the bride, both in expensive silk saris. The same saris had been ironed and professionally folded and gifted to Surabhi at her wedding. Gouramma was furious. She thought to herself, I was crazy about all American things and expensive silks, but it does not mean that I will accept a used sari as a gift.

  She was deeply hurt and decided that never again would she ask Jamuna for anything from America.

  Normally, Jamuna and her friends got together every Saturday. The idea was to have fun for four or five hours, play games, discuss an interesting novel or poetry, exchange news and gossip and go home after a sumptuous lunch. It was usually a potluck party, with everyone bringing a dish.

  Chandru was away at New York that Saturday, and Jamuna organized the get-together at her home. Jamuna told her mother-in-law, ‘Let us make idli-sambar. I will help you.’ By this time, Gouramma knew what that meant. She felt she was only a servant in her son’s house and everything had to be decided by her Dollar Bahu.

  After she finished the cooking, Gouramma put everything on the table and decided to take Manasi for a stroll. Manasi was nearly ten months old.

  Gouramma was still very upset by what she had found out about Jamuna. She had always praised her Dollar Bahu to high heaven but now realized how undeserving Jamuna was of that praise. After a long walk, Gouramma returned home. Manasi was asleep in her stroller. When she reached the door, Gouramma heard her name and stopped for a minute. She was curious to know what Jamuna and her friends were saying about her. Foolishly she thought, maybe Jamuna is praising my services.

  She listened in on the conversation. Girija said, ‘Jamuna, you are the smartest of all. I can trade my PhD to possess your talent on how to handle a mother-in-law and win her heart.’

  ‘It seems her mother-in-law always treats her like her own daughter! Is it not surprising?’ said Veda.

  ‘Nothing so surprising. My mother-in-law is greedy and stupid. My co-sister-in-law Vinuta is from a poor family and innocent about the ways of the world. My sis-in-law Surabhi does not have any brains. It is easy to manage such women.’

  Gouramma began sweating. Her Dollar Bahu continued spewing out her real feelings. ‘I give them what I don’t like and they don’t suspect anything. For example, I pass on all my old saris to Surabhi and I tell her, due to customs restrictions, I rewrapped them. They believe me. My mother-in-law cannot understand that she should get along with Vinuta who slogs day and night for these people but instead, she praises me. I always believe in divide and rule.’

  ‘Jamuna, I don’t know why we should take anything from here. Nowadays we get everything in India. Last time, I played a trick. I went to Burma Bazaar where we get all imported stuff, much cheaper than in the US, without warranty. I purchased some things for a few thousand rupees and told everyone at home that I had brought them from America. Everybody was very happy,’ said Girija.

  ‘No wonder you go with an empty suitcase from here. You are also quite smart,’ Jamuna complimented her.

  ‘Jamuna, are you planning to go back to India sometime?’

  ‘No way! Here our husbands listen to us; we can eat, drink, dress and roam around the way we want. It is better to send some dollars as gifts than to settle in India. My father had clearly told me that he agreed to the proposal only because Chandru was in America, otherwise he would not have bothered. My parents had already judged these people before they accepted the proposal. My mother advised me to be nice, speak to them well, but keep them at a distance. That advice has helped.’

  Rohini said, ‘If you really calculate and get someone from India at the time of delivery, it is so advantageous.’

  Jamuna immediately replied, ‘That is why I wanted my mother-in-law for one year. She was dying to come to the US anyway, and my husband wanted his mother to come. It was at the right time that I called for her. In this one year, she has looked after us, the house and baby sat Manasi.’

  ‘And one doesn’t need to worry about anyone stealing either. The cost of the ticket is nothing, once you add up all these benefits,’ added Rekha.

  Gouramma couldn’t bear it any more. She collapsed on the steps with her head in her hands. Oh god! Why was I so stupid? she cursed herself. Her head began to throb. For the first time she felt that her husband was a clever man for not coming here. She felt like running away to India immediately. She also realized that she had married her son off to an evil-minded person, falling prey to her wealth and sweet talk.

  Just then Manasi woke up and began to demand attention. Gouramma picked up the child and went into the living room. Jamuna got up with a sweet smile and told her, ‘Everyone says you have a magic line in your hand and no five-star hotel can compete with your sambar.’ Gouramma did not even smile. She quietly went to her room.

  That entire night Gouramma cried, and her wet pillow was testimony to her uncontrollable grief. She missed Vinuta. Now she could finally appreciate that poor girl. She regretted her own attitude towards Vinuta. She felt awful when she remembered that she had never even given Vinu any gift, be it for her pregnancy or on any other occasion, and how badly she had treated her in the run-up to Surabhi’s wedding.

  How blind I was! Why did I behave so stupidly? she kept asking herself through that wretched night. And the answer became clear. It was the Dollar. The Dollar had blinded her, making her unable to see the reality.

  The next morning she spoke to Chandru. ‘Manasi is old enough to go to a day-care centre. It is almost a year since I have been away from home. Your father must be lonely. It is better that I go back.’