Little lessons of life and knowing about my caste

My first marriage was a great lesson about the big, bad world outside.  I had been brought up steeped in morals, ethics, principles and discipline.  I automatically endowed my new family with the same qualities.  Day after day, year after year I came to understand that my parents’ teachings and moral values were of a distant land and era.  Each day tore apart the cushion of love and uprightness I had known to be a part of me.  When Mamoni (Ashok’s mother) knew about my second pregnancy she could not believe how a smart girl like me allowed it to happen.  Her idea was since I had been an airhostess I should be aware of contraceptives and things like that to avoid conception.  It was taken for granted that as an airhostess I must have been sleeping around all those years in the airlines and knew how to be smart in such matters.  Mamoni, as far as I could make out, was not being acrimonious or derogatory about it; she was just stating a fact as popularly believed.  This incident again made me wonder about my parents’ planet of origin. 

Both my parents did not know falsehood, cheating or any devious qualities that are so much part of life and the world.  Baba (Gyanendra Chandra Deb) would leave for work in his chauffer-driven Zephyr car promptly on the hour and be back at the scheduled time in the evening.  Dada and I knew it as a rule to come back from playing sharp at six p.m.  And after a little chat or admonitions from Baba we would gather to sing Brahmo Sangeet for an hour with Ma at the organ.  Then it would be time for studies and then a blissful hour of being completely on our own when both parents would go for a walk before dinner.  We could proverbially 'let down our hair' after dinner when all of us would be involved in serious discussions about anything and everything under the sun; but mysteriously never touched the nether part of life I realise now.   

Knowing about our caste

Our home did not have any altar or any particular worship area; we just knew that every corner of the house was holy and respect for everything and everyone was the unspoken command.  By the time I was in high school, my school – St. Mary’s Carmel School was applying for government affiliation.  This required some government forms to be filled up by the students or their parents.  Quite naturally I gave it to my mother (Bela Deb) to do the needful.  She paused at a particular point and asked my father which box to tick.  The question was about religion and caste – something we were totally ignorant about.  Baba got very upset as he had not expected a catholic missionary school to come up with such questions.  But one cannot ignore a government form and I had to go back to school the next day, so finally the form was duly filled and I came to know that we were Brahmins by birth.  Much later in life I came across people, especially women who would question me on my caste and religion.  Yes I have often floored them with the Brahmin fact – I noticed how attitudes go through a sea change when they know the truth.  Somewhere in our minds we Indians still harbour strange reverence for Brahmins.  

Promises are made to be honoured

I shall never forget that day (it was 3 days after my marriage to Ashok Bose).  Before signing on the marriage certificate or license or whatever, he had solemnly promised not to drink after that day.  For the first 3 days he was as good as his word and I was quite happy that things would be taking a good turn and this marriage was not a failure after all.  I could not find Ashok from morning that fateful day; I asked everyone in the house, the servants, the yoga teachers who came in the morning.  But no one knew where Ashok was, till the youngest servant said he had spotted him downstairs drinking in the cowshed where Meghu and his men kept their cows.  I went; I saw and came upstairs, hid myself behind some furniture and howled as if it was the end of the world.   Rooma (Ashok’s sister) came to console me and said many comforting words, none of which registered in my brain.  I was crying not so much that he had betrayed my trust but because he had uprooted my entire upbringing.  How can anyone promise and then break it?  How can one be so flippant with one’s sacred vows?  Is this another world?  Was this an endless pit I had got myself into?  Where was I?

Dada and I had probably been brought up in a straitjacket compared to the parenting principles of today.  Our parents had a no-nonsense attitude; you simply did not lie; you must keep your word without lame excuses.  The word ‘promise’ was hardly ever used at home because keeping your word was of prime importance without having to say ‘promise’.  There was no question of swearing in God’s name – you just did not need to! 

As I have aged I have understood that there are people who make promises to break them or rather promise for the sake of promise with no intention of keeping it.  However, there are others who promise with all good intentions but get delayed due to occupations or the increased hazards of living.  George, my second husband, often failed to keep his promises due to his professional life – he lived and loved working in hotels.  However, he never missed our birthdays or Christmas – always there cooking, arranging a party, games and making sure everyone was having a good time. 

I have tried to instil the same values in my children and know they might flip-flop at times, because they cannot ignore the outside influence.  I know for sure that the inherited values I have passed on to them will be triumphant at all crucial instances.