her, so at the age of four Surinder was sent to live with her uncle in Delhi. He had settled in one of the little boxes in Raghubir Nagar and had become, like his neighbors, a scooter-cab driver. In a good month he brought home one hundred dollars. The uncle was willing to accept the added expense of Surinder because he needed someone to look after his widowed father, Surinder’s grandfather, who lived in the house. Surinder did as she was told. Throughout her childhood, she cooked the meals, cleaned the house, washed the clothes and attended to her grandfather’s needs. There was no time for her to go to school, and she never learned to read and write. She claimed she didn’t mind. She lived there because her grandfather needed her, not to go to school or advance herself. In the evenings, she went to the neighborhood Sikh temple to listen to the religious songs. She told us this was the only time she left the house. She had no friends, and no other contact with the outside world.
And yet Surinder had come to see this life as satisfying. After all, she knew nothing else. “I was never so happy in my life,” she told us. “My grandfather took care of me. There was no worry. I ate, I wore nice clothes, I lived well. It was a very secure life.”
Her happiness ended with her marriage. When she was twenty, Manjit, a distant relative she had never met—he was the brother of the wife of one of her uncles—came to the door with a group of friends to invite the family to his wedding the next day. But when Manjit and his friends saw Surinder, they decided she would be a better wife than the bride who had been arranged. Manjit quickly backed out of the marriage and the next day spoke to Surinder’s grandfather about marrying her. At first I thought this tale was too bizarre to be true, but it makes sense if one thinks of a bride as a commodity that can be quickly exchanged for a better deal. It mattered not at all that Surinder objected and spoke of her “bad feeling” about the groom. The family insisted it was high time for a twenty-year-old woman to be married.
The wedding took place on September 30, 1979, ten days after Manjit had come to her door, at Surinder’s grandfather’s house. By Indian standards, it was a modest lunch for two hundred people, withmeat, under a big tent. Surinder’s dowry—furniture, a television set, a refrigerator, jewelry and cash—was loaded on a bus and taken to her in-laws’ home that night. The next morning, Surinder said, “the whole drama started. When the family saw the dowry they said, ‘You’ve hardly got anything.’ ”
As Surinder recalled, they harassed her day after day. Sometimes they would go to her uncle’s house and demand large sums of cash. If they didn’t get it, they beat her. They beat her again when her first child, a girl, was born, because she had not given birth to a boy. She was lighter-skinned than the other women in her in-laws’ extended family, which she said made the resentments worse. “My color mattered to them,” she told us proudly. “They were jealous because I was beautiful.” They treated her as a virtual slave in the house, forcing her into a cycle of constant cooking and cleaning. “Sometimes they even locked the refrigerator so I wouldn’t be able to drink anything,” she said. Two years after the wedding, her mother-in-law was hit by a truck and killed. Surinder’s father-in-law had died much earlier.
Although the deaths might have brought some peace to Surinder’s life, instead she was even more threatened by the other women in the house. She became convinced that her husband was sleeping with the wife of his older brother. He himself had told Surinder there were others. “He told me he would only come to me when other women weren’t available,” she said. “I didn’t enjoy sleeping with him.” She became angrier when she discovered that her husband was giving money to the older brother’s wife, and also to his own
And yet Surinder had come to see this life as satisfying. After all, she knew nothing else. “I was never so happy in my life,” she told us. “My grandfather took care of me. There was no worry. I ate, I wore nice clothes, I lived well. It was a very secure life.”
Her happiness ended with her marriage. When she was twenty, Manjit, a distant relative she had never met—he was the brother of the wife of one of her uncles—came to the door with a group of friends to invite the family to his wedding the next day. But when Manjit and his friends saw Surinder, they decided she would be a better wife than the bride who had been arranged. Manjit quickly backed out of the marriage and the next day spoke to Surinder’s grandfather about marrying her. At first I thought this tale was too bizarre to be true, but it makes sense if one thinks of a bride as a commodity that can be quickly exchanged for a better deal. It mattered not at all that Surinder objected and spoke of her “bad feeling” about the groom. The family insisted it was high time for a twenty-year-old woman to be married.
The wedding took place on September 30, 1979, ten days after Manjit had come to her door, at Surinder’s grandfather’s house. By Indian standards, it was a modest lunch for two hundred people, withmeat, under a big tent. Surinder’s dowry—furniture, a television set, a refrigerator, jewelry and cash—was loaded on a bus and taken to her in-laws’ home that night. The next morning, Surinder said, “the whole drama started. When the family saw the dowry they said, ‘You’ve hardly got anything.’ ”
As Surinder recalled, they harassed her day after day. Sometimes they would go to her uncle’s house and demand large sums of cash. If they didn’t get it, they beat her. They beat her again when her first child, a girl, was born, because she had not given birth to a boy. She was lighter-skinned than the other women in her in-laws’ extended family, which she said made the resentments worse. “My color mattered to them,” she told us proudly. “They were jealous because I was beautiful.” They treated her as a virtual slave in the house, forcing her into a cycle of constant cooking and cleaning. “Sometimes they even locked the refrigerator so I wouldn’t be able to drink anything,” she said. Two years after the wedding, her mother-in-law was hit by a truck and killed. Surinder’s father-in-law had died much earlier.
Although the deaths might have brought some peace to Surinder’s life, instead she was even more threatened by the other women in the house. She became convinced that her husband was sleeping with the wife of his older brother. He himself had told Surinder there were others. “He told me he would only come to me when other women weren’t available,” she said. “I didn’t enjoy sleeping with him.” She became angrier when she discovered that her husband was giving money to the older brother’s wife, and also to his own
Similar Books
