Dud Sea Scrawls The Writing, clearly, is not on the wall!

Year 1990; Jamnagar, Gujrat

Mom, Dad and I were plonked right in front of the TV, waiting for the Sunday afternoon movie to start on DD National. Mom and Dad were pretty excited because it was a Punjabi movie that day, which was a rather rare occurrence. The name of the movie was “Udikna” and at that time I had no idea what it meant.

The movie started with the narrator’s saying something like “Udikna means a long wait, a very long wait; something like what Urmilla had to undergo. Urmilla, Lakshman’s wife in Ramayana had to wait for fourteen long years for her husband to come back from his brother’s vanavaas”. Fourteen year long wait for a husband!! This was a new concept for me and this had hit me with a great shock at that time.

I had never thought of Lakshman as being someone’s husband; he was just Ram’s devoted and exemplary brother who had accompanied his brother and bhabhi for a long and arduous vanvaas. The knowledge that he had also left behind a young wife; refusing to take her along (Had not Ram taken Sita along?) was a new unthought-of aspect to a very familiar tale. I remember the moment very clearly; I remember thinking that life had cut an unfair deal for Urmilla and I remember the vague anger against Lakshman. All this must have stayed with me somewhere in my mind for I was reminded of this precise moment years later.

Year 2004; Ludhiana, Punjab

It was my first visit to Punjab after marriage and we had a long list of relatives to meet.We had gone to Ludhiana to meet my husband’s mausi (Mom’s sister) and had just finished a rather heavy lunch when someone suggested going to the nearby village to meet a few distant relatives. The village was hardly 10 -15 minutes away and soon we were there. It was a small village on the banks of an irrigation canal some five minutes from the highway; a small cluster of rather big houses on one side and the fields a little distance away. As we drove into the village, I could see small boys jumping into the canals, swimming alongside with the buffaloes. There were some old men playing cards in the shelter of a tree and some more children racing old tires in the dusty lanes. Something about that place stuck me as being odd but I just could not figure out what. DH’s (Dear Husband) cousin who had accompanied us had given me a quick update about the relatives we were about to meet. It was a distant Tauji (Dad’s elder brother) and his family (Two sons and their families).

We went in after the regular greetings and were shown into the baithak or the Drawing room. The elder daughter-in-law came in with lassi, milk, tea and thanda and sat next to me. After answering the usual set of questions, I asked here about her husband. She said “Theek hai, kal hi phone aaya tha” (He is fine; he had called up yesterday). I must have looked a little confused, so she explained to me that her husband was in Italy. “Ooh ok” I smiled and then asked her the next natural question or what I felt was the next natural question regarding their plans to go to Italy. She laughed and said “Hum kahan jaayengee” (We are not going anywhere). “So is he planning to come back”, I blurted out. Her mother-in-law overheard this question and said “Beta who pata nahin kab aayeegaa; Paanch saal se bol raha hai ki bas aa raha hoon” (God knows when will he come back; it has been 5 years since he has been talking about coming back). None of us knew what to say and mother-in-law tried to say some nice words. “Barah saal ho gaye hai uska chehra dekhe hue”, Taiji said in a low voice. (It has been 12 years since I last saw his face).

Twelve years!! This lady sitting next to me has not seen her husband for Twelve years; this thought hit me with a force. The shock must have shown on my face because Taiji smiled a little sadly and said “what can we do beta, we can not blame him. He has to earn for his family after all”. “Yes yes, of course”, I said quickly trying to cover up my previous faux pas. “Arre pinky” Taiji said calling someone outside “apne papa ki photo to lana” (Get your dad’s photos). Pinky came in carrying 5-6 albums. She sat in between her mom and me and started showing me the snaps. “Dekho, yeh mere daddy hai, kitne smart dikhte hai na photo mein” (Isn’t my dad looking smart in the photos?) she asked me, looking at me with those big eyes. She was very proud of her dad but then why was I feeling so rotten about the whole thing. “She has never seen her dad” her mom explained a little hesitatingly “he left a few months after our marriage and never” she left the sentence unfinished. Meanwhile the girl was prattling about her dad and how he calls up very Sunday and sends nice toys from Italy. I smiled and patted her head, feeling totally clueless about what I could possibly say to her. Her mom was also looking at her and smiling.

“Bas yeh naya ghar ban jaaye, woh vaapis aa jaayengee” (He will come back as soon as the new house is completed) she suddenly said. “Arre aap naya ghar bana rehe ho, mubaarakan” (Oh wow, you are constructing a new house, congratulations!!). Somehow the conversation among other people had also reached the same point, namely the new house and so all of us got up to see it. The new house was just across the narrow lane and it was the one of the big houses I had noticed from the main road. Taiji proudly took us around the big and well planned house. The kitchen was particularly good and I lingered on to look at the cabinet fittings. When I turned around to join the others, I found myself alone with Pinky and her mom. I gave them an awkward smile; I could not meet their eye. I knew it was ridiculous, but I could not meet their eye. “Bas ghar tayaar ho hi gaya hai. Ek do mahine aur lagenge shaayad. Phir woh aa hi jaayengee, aayengee na?” (The house is almost done. Maybe it will take another month or so. And then he will be back, he will be back, right?) she asked me in an odd voice. I could not bear to look at her or to hear her voice. Hopes, doubts and longings flashed in her eyes briefly and then there was resignation; the long wait had taken its toll. I just took her hand, hugged her and walked out of that new house. She was crying softly.

“It is not easy to come back” DH’s cousin said on the way back; “Most of them are illegal immigrants; they have been smuggled into the country without proper papers and can not risk coming back. They will never be able to go back and they do not want to spend their lives here now. They are now used to the life abroad. I do not think that he will ever come back”.

Writer’s Note

This is a true incident. Taiji’s younger son is also in Italy and her younger DIL lives with her parents. Actually there are no young men in that village, DH’s cousin told me on the way back. Then I remembered the odd feeling I had had when we had driven into the village. I had not seen any young guys there; it was only old people; young women and children. And there are other villages like this. I have heard stories about families giving up their entire life’s savings to send their son abroad. Most of these people are illiterate villagers who are being fleeced by unscrupulous agents who promise them a bright future and a lawful immigration. But most of the times, these people end up being illegally smuggled in the country; always living in the danger of being found out and with no hopes of coming back. A few months back, Pakistan had released some of the Indian prisoners from their jails. Many of them were Punjabi youths who were being transported illegally to European nations via Pakistan.

People want not only their sons to go abroad and earn well but they also want their daughters to live the good life abroad. So, what can be better than a NRI match? India Today, some time back had run a cover story called “Holiday Brides” on people cashing in on this craze for NRI matches. They come here, somehow establish their NRI credentials,get married,spend some time here, leave for abroad promising to send the papers and then they just disappear. I personally know of one such case. ( Link

The Phoren craze runs strong in Punjab and I fail to understand the phenomenon. Illiteracy, dwindling agricultural holdings and lack of other opportunities are definitely some of the factors. But there are also misguided youths who believe that life will be simple and easy on the other side and often the reality is an eye-opener. Most of them work as unskilled laborers and are without any emotional support in an alien land. But still they prefer to put in hard work there instead of in India. I have heard stories of sons forcing their parents to raise money for the ticket and send them abroad even when they are aware of the poor financial situation of the family.
Link

I have never been put in a desperate situation where I have to choose between earning for my family and staying with them and so I am not in a situation to judge these people. But the situation is indeed bad and particularly for those wives who are left behind. In a society (talking about rural Punjab), where a girl is made to think that marriage is the only goal in her life and her life will revolve around her husband and her children, the lives of these abandoned wives is difficult. But I do salute the spirit of these women; they try and go ahead with their lives as well as they can but sometimes the mask does slip.