Paro's Life

'Aye Paro, get up and cut this fodder for the buffalos'

It was day-break and her two day honey moon was over in a flash. She was under no illusion and was prepared for hard work.

There were celebrations at night and the entire village had turned up to see Fakhru's Paro. Fakhru lived in a large family. She could see that these people were much richer than her parents. There was electricity in every house. She also realized that his mother was the fulcrum of the family and ran everything.

'Aayee Ammee'

She was up and out with a smile on her face. It was almost noon when all the work got over and women sat down to eat. She sat together with the family and ate. Then packed food for the men and took the lunch boxes to the fields.

Five years passed doing just this, day in and day out. She remembered a few occasions when Fakhru took her out to Nuh to shop, but generally she was confined at home. She had thought of her parents, sisters and Stella many times but never got around to either writing to them nor asked Fakhru when he was going back there.

Then suddenly, Fakhru’s mother died. It seemed that the family’s bonding force had ebbed away. They lost the routine of doing the daily chores. She saw two of the brothers fighting over small issues. Fakhru went back to Chhattisgarh that year. He did not go to Bisrampuri but to another village in the south. Paro cried her heart out. She was desperate to get some news about her village. He came back after two weeks and told her that he did not get any girl. It meant that he did not get the money on this trip. She had earlier found out that he made nearly as much money from the groom as they gave to the bride’s family.

As she watched the family crumbling away, she got another jolt. Fakhru had brought someone home. He was from Firozpur he said. While she went out to serve them tea she heard them talking about her and they fell quiet as she approached. She was dumb-struck for a while. The scene from five years ago flashed past her eyes, when her father and mother fell quiet as she had approached.

Her premonition was true. She was sold off for thirty thousand rupees. She got barely an hour to pack her stuff and ride with Mazhar. Mazhar took her to Firozpur the same evening. Fakhru’s mother would never have allowed such a thing. It was another matter to bring wives for friends and cousins from Bihar but treating them as tradable material would have been an anathema to her. Again she got into a bus for an hour’s journey, she was crying. Five years of living with the people and now no one to even speak to her as she was leaving. What kind of people were these?

Mazhar was over fifty and had lost his wife to Malaria some years ago. He got talking to her. He had four children; the youngest boy was nearly six while eldest girl was nearly twenty. They too were a prosperous family but had a much smaller piece of land to till. Most of it was let out on contract. So the family did not have much physical work to do. Paro quickly took over the household chores, milking buffaloes in the morning and evening, cooking, cleaning and washing.

Their next door neighbour was a large household. Their son, Amjad had just come back from Hissar after completing his BA and was beginning to get involved in the family farm. Amjad used to visit Mazhar's house very often. There was talk in the house about suitability of Mazhar's daughter for Amjad. He did not like her somehow and the match fell through. It was almost a year later when the eldest daughter got married and went off.

Soon afterwards Paro found herself lonely. The younger kids would go to school and Mazhar had taken to drinking even during the day. She was mostly by herself at home. One of those days when Mazhar was away drinking at someone's house, Amjad came over and sat chatting. She began to talk about her village and her parents and childhood friends. Without wanting to, she started crying inconsolably. How that moment led to Amjad holding her gently and how that led to her bed she never knew. They were quite ashamed of this and never mentioned it again.

Mazhar died suddenly. He just did not wake up one morning. Doctor said heart-failure but Paro knew that it was alcohol that killed him. Suddenly there were three young children to feed and the whole world to guard against. She felt overwhelmed. Even before the ceremonies were done vultures began hovering over Mazhar’s property. Mazhar had a brother who refused to go back home, even proposed to marry her. Many other cousins sprouted up from nowhere. Even the eldest daughter came to claim a share. And Paro fought.

She fought all of them but kept losing things one by one. The lands were divided amongst Mazhar's siblings without even her knowledge. The village elders did not even consider her a lawful wife.

‘Wasn't she a Paro? No question of leaving the land to her’.

The elder of the children a boy of fifteen chose to take cash against some of the land and went to stay with his sister. The youngest two children a boy of seven and a girl of ten surprisingly were defiant and chose to stay with her in the same house. The final solution was to leave the house and the buffaloes to the younger children and Paro was allowed to stay there to take care of them.

Now she had no earnings and no future but responsibility of two innocent children. She cried many nights and could not see a way through. She finally decided to send the children off to their sister and go back to Bisrampuri. She was sure Lord Jesus and Sis Stella would welcome her to the Church. She was even more distraught with this decision. It meant that she had failed her life. She had left her home and after seven odd years she would be going back penurious and dependant. She hated it.

There was a smile on her face as she sat leaning her head on the window of the train rapidly taking her back to her village. The strong breeze was blowing her hair away. There was an immense anticipation on getting to meet her parents again and see her village once again. More than everything else she was feeling happy at winning the battle of the world. She had finally been able to solve the dilemma of how to bring up the children and succeed.

She, Paro was going back to her village after seven years to look for a Paro for Amjad.

Amjad had come the next day. He was very kind and had offered to help set her up. They discussed till late in the night he suggested that she do what Fakhru had been doing. He was looking for a bride too and would not mind being her first customer. She was so happy at this way out that she had kissed him and they made love till early morning.