Barrister Parvateesam

“It’s not something forbidden by the scriptures, nor is it against dharma. So, just because we stop this, no one will blame us. And even if they do, we needn’t bother about it,” I said.

My father, without saying a word, paced back and forth for five minutes. Then he said, “Alright, as you wish.”

Feeling as if I’d been granted a new lease on life, I let out a huge sigh of relief. My father then went and found a good cart among those available, arranged it so that my mother and two others could sit comfortably by spreading hay and laying a mattress and blanket on top, and brought it to the doorway.

Meanwhile, I went around inspecting all the carts to see what had become of the carts of the couples who were about to leave when I arrived. Ten or fifteen carts had already set off. I heard that the couples had seated themselves, and the cart drivers, eager to help, had driven off without telling anyone. In four or five more carts, bedding had been spread and they seemed to be waiting for the couples. In any case, after a while, all the carts moved ahead. My father and another man made sure all the doors and locks at home were secure, checked that nothing was forgotten, left reliable caretakers and villagers to look after the house, and finally came in the last cart.

It was still a little dark when the carts neared Bhimavaram. The carts were stopped for a while outside the town. All the men and women got down quickly to relieve themselves. Then, after moving a little further, the carts stopped again near a pond. Here, everyone got down to brush their teeth.

As soon as we got down, the cart I was in, my father’s cart, and our priest’s cart were led ahead to their house. Hearing of our arrival, they took us into our quarters. We all walked together, chatting as we went. Our carts followed behind us.

By the time we had finished brushing our teeth and such, all the remaining carriages had arrived. Many villagers—women, children, and elders with no urgent work—came running in haste to see these carriages and the wedding party. Everyone got down from the carriages, arranged their luggage, and began preparing for their baths and ablutions.

Even here, the energetic, modern young couples, as far as possible, had their belongings placed in separate rooms and promptly locked their doors. However, as this was a very large house, and perhaps even that was deemed insufficient, another house next door had also been vacated and cleaned for our use. Because of this, there was no need for the young couples to hurry so much. No matter how many couples there were among the wedding guests—young or old—there were enough rooms for each to have one to themselves if they wished.

Once everyone in the wedding party had bathed and adorned themselves, milk was first served to the little children. A quarter of an hour later, fruits and snacks were brought for the adults. For all the boys and girls who were accustomed to eating early in the morning, those arrangements were ready as well. The aunts and the favorite elders also received an immediate invitation to come at once.

No sooner had the invitation reached them than, in a flurry, all the men under twenty, some mothers with children on their hips, some elders from both sides who could not wait until the usual meal time, those who observed ritual purity and those who did not, and the young men and women who had no such concerns—all of them, each with a plate in hand, made their way to the wedding house for breakfast.

As soon as they arrived, all the women forgot the reason they had come and, gathering together, rushed to see the bride. While the bride was being bathed and adorned, so many people, with laughter and chatter, crowded into the room that those already inside were startled, imagining that, seeing so many faces, they might faint away. Immediately, someone spread a mat and invited everyone to sit down.

The bride, blushing deeply, shrank into herself and became a bundle of shyness. Yet, she kept looking at them all with wide, smiling eyes. All those who had come, without even asking the bride’s name, now wondered what to say next.

Barrister Parvateesam

Without uttering a word, with unwavering determination, nearly a hundred pairs of eyes there were scrutinizing the bride from head to toe, inside and out. The womenfolk, too, were silently continuing to adorn her. Just then, as soon as the call came that the meal was ready to be served, this whole flock, like the offspring of Shakuntala, swooped down upon the dining area in a single instant.

Now, there was a flurry of leaf plates, food, chaos, and mockery as the meal commenced.

Someone remarked, “The mango pickle is excellent!” and immediately the young crowd seized upon the pickle. With so many people, and everyone asking for it three or four times at once, the pickle on that side seemed to be running out. Sensing this, all the youngsters unanimously began a chorus: “Aavakaya, Ma’am! More aavakaya!”—their voices rising in unison.

Inside, a trusted maid, having hurriedly bathed and left her wet clothes in the pickle room, scooped up a heap of pickle in a large shell, forgetting her own state, and with the shell in her palm, rushed out—since the commotion in the courtyard was growing louder.

Everyone seated at the leaves raised their hands and cried out, “Govinda! Govinda!”

The poor woman had no idea what was going on. She wondered what all this uproar was about. As she served pickle to ten or so young men and moved forward, the women seated in the row stopped her right there, and through their expressions made her realize her predicament. Only then did she catch a