Free A Fine Family: A Novel by Gurcharan Das Page B

a spiritual world and you attain it through meditation, then you have obviously won.
    ‘I believe you have no choice,’ concluded Seva Ram, ‘but to try. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain.’
    Seva Ram had spoken all this lightly, almost gaily, as if to suggest to the others that this was small talk, of little consequence. Chachi became conscious of the melodiousness of his voice as he spoke.
    Bauji thought that his argument was very persuasive. But later on reflection he couldn’t bring himself to agree. He felt strongly that he had everything to lose by making the spiritual effort. He loved this life too dearly to risk losing it—even to a more perfect world. If opting for the spiritual world meant giving up this one, or living in it like a passenger, then he might as well choose the imperfect one.
    After the visitors had gone, Tara came rushing down with her sisters.
    ‘But he is so short,’ moaned Tara.
    ‘In front of the Englishman he looked like a pygmy,’ said Big Uncle with a laugh.
    ‘He eats so little, no wonder,’ said Bhabo. ‘He hardly touched anything.’
    ‘What do you think of him, Chachi?’
    ‘Of course, he’ sattractive. There’s something modest and friendly and gentle in him that is very appealing. He’s got a lot of self-possession for so young a man. He isn’t quite like any of the other boys I’ve met.’
    ‘Well, you can marry him then. I don’t like him,’ said Tara and she ran upstairs with tears in her eyes.

6
    Bhabo’s day started early. She woke up at dawn, bathed and churned butter from milk. As she churned, she sang devotional songs by the Rajput princess, Mira. These poems passionately recounted Mira’s love affair with her god and lover, Krishna. After she finished churning butter, she got dressed in a white cotton sari and went off to the temple.
    Like most Hindus, Bhabo believed that God was present in all temples. So she alternated between the gurdwara of the Sikhs, which was situated in Kacheri Bazaar, diagonally opposite their house, the Shiva temple of the orthodox Hindus, and the prayer hall of the reformist Arya Samaj. Big Uncle once asked Bhabo not to go to all the temples but to choose one and visit it regularly. She innocently replied that she wanted to make sure that at least one god would listen to her.
    Bhabo’s choice of temple on a particular day often depended on whom she expected to meet, for her social life frequently started at the temple. She would often meet a friend and go off with her. Her social life consisted of consoling her friends when there was a death in the family or congratulating them on engagements, marriages and births. Since she did not discriminate between the rich and the poor or the powerful and the humble, she was welcome everywhere. Virtually every day there was either a birth, a death, an engagement or a marriage in her wide circle of friends, and so she always had somewhere to go. In the case of a death, the mourning lasted for thirteen days, and loyal friends were expected to visit daily. Thus her problem was to choose where to go.
    Today, however, her mind was troubled. She was uneasy about her daughter’s forthcoming marriage. She was concerned that the boy’s side had not come to see Tara. Nor had her family barber gone to find out about the boy’s family background. Everything was most irregular, and she wanted to avoid her friends and their uncomfortable questions relating to the marriage. She decided to go to the Sikh gurdwara near the house, thinking that she would be least likely to meet her friends there. But she miscalculated. All her friends, in their starched white cotton saris, were there this morning, almost as if they had read her mind.
    ‘Bhabo, your daughter is going to be married and you don’t even know the family? Is your family barber asleep?’ Her friends voiced her worries.
    Bhabo told them about the guru, Bauji’s journey to the ashram, and Seva Ram’s visit to Lyallpur.
    Bhabo