Lighthouse Maami- II

Part-I

Moorthy did his bit to add to Prabha’s collection, though he wore but a little gold on his person, apart from the finger ring that he received following his father’s death as the son who performed his father’s last rites, and a chain with a rudraksha seed pendant in the memory of his grandfather who had worn it around his neck. Moorthy would pick jewellery on his visits abroad for Prabha as gifts. He picked a tourmaline and diamond brooch for Prabha at Tiffany’s from Old Bond Street in London; a string of black pearls from Kyoto when he visited Japan; jade bracelets and strings from gold shops at Pahurat, Bangkok, Burmese rubies and more.

Prabha was happiest with a tiny packet of blue opals that Moorthy gifted her from his visit to Australia. The blue opals were mild and looked pretty enough to be made into a small pendant with pearls and seemed fit for evening wear. Most importantly, they were a good substitute for the blue sapphire, a dreaded gemstone for those astrologically inclined, for it could bring the doomed influence of the planet Saturn to play on those who could not carry it on their person. Early on in their marriage, Moorthy had gifted Prabha a huge blue sapphire from Ratnapura from Ceylon.Subbiah had set the large oval blue surrounded by diamond dust to showcase its brilliance. A week after she wore it on her finger, Prabha had lost the baby she was carrying. The family had undertaken a pilgrimage to the temple of Saturn at Kalahasthi and offered the dreaded jewel to the God as penitance.

Subbiah believed in the power of gemstones, especially the diamond. Hence whenever Prabha purchased a new diamond jewel or he crafted one, he would say a prayer to ‘cool’ the diamond’s ‘heat’. Prabha would bring home the piece, place it before the Gods, murmur a prayer and keep it in her cupboard. For three days she would observe the day’s turn of events carefully. If all went well and no bad news or occurrence came out at home or at Moorthy’s office it was believed that the diamond was not malevolent.

As one with a flair for craft, Prabha preferred to summon Subbiah and draw patterns for a new pair of earring, ask him to melt the gold off an old piece that was no longer in her favour to redesign and make a new piece or design the gems that Moorthy gifted her. She would keep a beady eye on the gold used, (for these goldsmiths could cheat and rob molten gold even in their fingertips and earlobes), but with years Subbiah and Prabha found a mutual trust, between Prabha’s caprices and mild scolding, and Subbiah’s dull sincerity and resigned fondness.

On rare occasions he would make bold to protest mildly that, “Amma must keep that diamond in the form of a ring for it shone best on her fingers”, else that, “This chain is better suited for a younger person, perhaps the esteemed daughter in-law of the house, whenever the auspicious day dawns to bless our Anand”. Prabha would sigh at the mention of her precious son. He had taken a long while coming, nearly nine years after her marriage to Moorthy. He was conceived after blessings and prayers to the Lord of the Hills at Tirupati and a yearly tonsure until his 10th birthday was a thanksgiving that was never missed.

Subha would tease her elder sister, “If only you had daughters to fuss over and prettify with your precious collection”.

Prabha, who thought of herself as a generous person would reply, “All that is mine will be my daughter-in-law’s. She can come with just the clothes on her back for all I care as long as she keeps our Anand happy”.

Anand’s happiness, especially of the kind that is supposed to descend on people upon marrying, eluded him. He was a busy bio technologist in Toronto. Prabha and Moorthy would periodically visit him, when the months were not too cold, for having been used to Chennai’s warmth they could never acclimitise themselves to any form of cold climate. Back home, astrologers were consulted, charts were drawn, prayers were offered, photographs of prospective brides were sent, but Anand was disinterested and brushed them aside, with reasons both serious and frivolous.

“We are modern, we would never force our will on him”, Prabha would tell with a catch in her throat on her daily afternoon phone calls to her sister, who would commiserate appropriately, silently thankful that her daughters had shown no resistance and acquiesced to the grooms she and her husband had arranged to have them married off.

“He’s special, not like us, with many accomplishments to his credit. He is wont to take time to make his mind”, Subha would pacify.

It was not before he turned 34 that Anand made up his mind. She was a Quebec Canadian, working in a developmental organization for the welfare of disadvantaged communities. Noami had moved into Anand’s apartment for well over a year before Anand decided to pop the question.

“Do you want the circus of a three-day Tamil wedding?” he asked, winking.

“I am game, unless you want to end up tipsy in a tuxedo and pig out on a wedding cake”, she retorted sweetly.

They settled for neither and opted for a civil ceremony followed by lunch for friends and family in Toronto.

Prabha felt crushed, though Moorthy didn’t buckle. “His happiness is important”, he told her and she nodded a wee bit eagerly. They suggested a reception in Chennai for the family and the couple seemed merrily inclined.

Prabha was both nervous and excited at the prospect of receiving her son’s bride. She phoned Subha to confide and consult on a variety of issues from sleeping arrangements to cuisine; she fixed a new air-conditioner in her son’s room, and went about changing the bachelor room into a warmer one, befitting newly-weds. Fresh curtains were made, a new double bed was purchased, the ensuite bathroom had a makeover and its cupboards were stocked with shower gels, furry bath towels and even toilet rolls. The family would visit a temple after arriving in Chennai and the following day the Moorthys would host a reception dinner at a banquet hall in a five star-hotel.

Then the pin dropped. “What would you give your daughter-in-law while receiving her?”

Prabha and Subha were in a fix now. They didn’t want to act provincial and insist on Noami tripping in a heavy Kanchivaram sari and discomfiting her.

“Let her wear what keeps her comfortable”, Moorthy suggested, and the same was conveyed to Anand who suggested a dress in red, the auspicious colour of a Hindu bride, to bring along to Chennai for the reception.

Prabha and Subha sped away on numerous trips to the bank to bring home jewellery boxes and took measurements to make a special ring for Noami. Subbiah found the design suggestion too flimsy and contemporary, but fought against his better judgement to suggest it to the matron.

On a late November day, the bride and groom arrived in Chennai and were received with warmth and appropriate fussing and customs into the Moorthy’s home. Moorthy took to his daughter-in-law who seemed unaffected and sincere and he silently decided that no Tamil bride would direct such bold glances of love and affection at her spouse; and Anand seemed to enjoy that and responded with warm smiles. Prabha and Subha were relieved that Noami engaged ethusiastically with cooking tips and fitted in well with the women’s kitchen chatter.

Also, Prabha’s heart sang, “Noami turned pagan after meeting Anand”, she told Subha proudly.

“Amma, it is vegan”, Anand teased, and Prabha took the joke well.

After tea, Subha and Prabha escorted Noami to the master bedroom for a women’s confederation. Subha’s daughters were present and there was much laughter and light hearted banter on husbands’ habits, men and their foibles. Anand and Moorthy looked suitably chastened as they hung around the doorway to the room.

Prabha arrived to sit on the bed and presented a gift. Noami squealed and kissed Prabha’s cheeks, murmuring, “You shouldn’t have Ama” to open her gift.

It was a pair of Prabha’s wedding earrings and a matching finger ring.

The cluster of diamonds winked and glimmered invitingly, an iridescent blue sparkling at their edges, after last week’s polish by Subbiah’s deft fingers.

“Go on, wear them”, Prabha urged.

“These have descended from our grandmother, after whom your mother-in-law is named”, Subha said with a smile.

“Are these diamonds?” Noami asked in a small voice, staring at the fluorescent sparklers.

“Blue Jagers”, Subha’s daughters chorused, envy evident in their voices.

“After you, these will be worn by your little daughters to come”, Subha tittered. Noami and Prabha had the grace to blush.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t”, Noami shook her head, looking up, hoping Anand would materialize by her side.

“Yes, yes, these were meant just for you,” Prabha smiled.

“They are our family heirlooms”, Anand’s voice piped up proudly from the doorway.

“Blue Jagers come from Jagersfontein mines in South Africa, Anand”, Noami said, turning to look at him.

“Really?” asked Subha, sounding impressed.

“Oh yes, these diamonds are rare and no longer available in markets”, Subha’s eldest daughter chipped in.

“The mines were shut down over 30 years ago”, Noami said.

“Like Blood Diamond-a?” Moorthy asked in his sing-song voice, conveying his jollity. Anand gave his father a withering look that seemed lost on the happy old man.

“No red, blood and all. These are blue Jagers”, Prabha sought to explain in vain trying to hold out against the principles of her daughter-in-law.

***************

The next day the wedding party seemed subdued as they set out on a trip to Tirupati. The men tried to keep the moods up, but the smiles were tighter, the lines drawn around the women’s eyes and the conversation was small during the ride up to the temple.

Moorthy had clout with the temple authorities and after paying accordingly he gathered his family for a special prayer before the God of the Hills. Noami held herself well, in a salwar kameez, even though she seemed a bit unsettled by the milling crowds, the chants around her in strange tongues, and the darkness of the sanctum sanctorum where the large deity stood dressed in flowers and ornaments. She stood stiffly with her hands held together suppliantly while her husband and his family prostrated before the idol.

They trooped out to buy some special sweets and Noami exchanged worried looks with Anand who sought to explain that the bawling small children were offering their hair as prayer. “Thanksgiving and penitence both involve shedding hair”, Moorthy chipped in and Noami smiled a little.

As they readied to leave, Prabha came and led Noami by her hand. “Come with me”, she said quietly weaving her way through the crowds of devotees. Moorthy, Anand and Subha looked on uncertainly as they came to halt before a huge cauldron-like piggy bank swathed in yellow cloth.

Noami found Prabha pressing the small velvet box that held her blue Jagers and said, “Go on, offer it to God.”

Noami stuttered and resisted. Prabha held her hand firmly and led her to drop the box into the gaping slit in the money bank.

Noami snatched her hand back holding the box in her fist. “You will keep them for me until the arrival of your granddaughter”, she told Prabha, adding,“There’s no conflict in that”, her colour rising.