Neela: Victory Song

Bandits!

Cousin Rani laughs and scolds Neela as she puts together Neela’s sari. Neela is so excited that she can hardly stand in one place. She wants to see the lights, how they decorated the wedding area with flowers, and how Usha looks in her wedding clothes. Cousin Rani says that she needs to hold still while she finishes putting her sari on. Otherwise, she won’t see anything. Neela forces herself to stand quietly. Rani arranges the end of the sari so it falls in neat pleats from Neela’s shoulder down her back, using safety pins to secure it to Neela’s blouse. The pins are so that it won’t fall off of her if she bends over.

Neela is handed a mirror, and she stares wide-eyed into it. She’s not used to seeing her own reflection. The only mirror the family possesses is hung from a wall hook in her parents’ bedroom. Although Usha goes in there several times a day to use it, Neela never bothers to. In her reflection, Neela sees sparkling black eyes lined with kajal, hair neatly braided down her back, and a small round orange bindi in the middle of her forehead. And her sari is gorgeous. Neela looks like she could almost be fifteen years old.

However, because the sari requires half an hour being pinched and prodded by Cousin Rani, Neela will be happy to go back to her frocks and skirts tomorrow. Neela thanks her cousin for her help, and Rani says that Neela’s mother has a surprise for her.

As Neela goes to her mother, her feet keep getting caught in the pleats of her sari. Neela wonders how women ever managed to wear these things and still do all of their housework. With a glance, Neela realizes that nobody is around her, and lifts her sari up to her knees. Then, she runs to her mother’s room. Once outside the door, she stops and smooths down the pleats before her mother sees her.

Neela’s mother is wearing a lovely white silk sari with a red and gold border. Mother compliments Neela, commenting that she’s almost already as tall as she is. Neela smiles. It’s not too often that mother approves of her. She vows to be on her best behavior the rest of the evening. Mother holds out a pair of tiny golden hoops and says that these will be her earrings for the day. And she hands her a choker with a teardrop pendant and three sets of gold bangles. Then, mother hands over one more small package wrapped in velvet. Neela opens it and her breath draws in a delighted surprise. It’s a long, gold chain. Mother says that Neela is becoming a young woman. Mother and Father think this is a good occasion to give her some new jewelry. She’ll have to be careful with it.

Neela puts on the chain and looks in the mirror. It glitters around her neck as though it holds magic. It’s beautiful, and she knows it must have cost her parents a lot of money. She promises to be careful with it.

Neela sits among the other women guests in the clearing by the side of the house, where the wedding is taking place. Lanterns are strung around the area, and torches are mounted on poles. The thick grove of mango trees beyond is dark as ink. Neela looks out thoughtfully on the mysterious darkness as she listens to the drawn out notes of the shehnai. The notes are soft and sorrowful, yet full of joy at the same time. They celebrate the fact that Usha is starting a new life, but they also mourn the fact that Usha’s girlhood is ending.

Neela wonders what her sister is thinking. Usha is sitting next to her husband in front of the wedding fire, repeating the words from the priest. Usha looks beautiful in her red silk sari and her gold wedding jewelry. She has a nose ring, a necklace, matching earrings, an armband, and bracelets. Their father had been saving these for years because, as everyone knows, a daughter’s wedding is an expensive affair.

Neela can see that Usha is very tired. Her fingers tremble as she offers handfuls of puffed rice into the fire. Fortunately, the wedding is almost over. The jasmine and chrysanthemum garlands have already been exchanged, and the dowry, a bag of gold coins, has been handed by her father to Usha’s father-in-law.

Thinking about the dowry upsets Neela. Her parents had had to do without a lot of things to get all the money together. And they still came up short. At the end they had to sell two of their cows. It’s unfair that a girl’s parents have to pay so much. After all, Usha’s in-laws are getting a new and valuable family member, for free, for the rest of her life. Mother always says that she doesn’t know where Neela gets such ideas. Dowries for girls—that’s the way it’s always been.

Neela’s thoughts are interrupted by an uproar in the audience. People are standing up, pointing, and shouting something she can’t make out. Women start screaming and running towards the house. Neela sees a group of men, their faces blackened with soot and oil to prevent recognition. They’re holding weapons—scythes, axes, and the leader is carrying a gun. Where did they come from?

The leader starts to speak. His voice is deep, full of authority. He announces that they don’t intend to hurt anyone as long as they do as they say. They’re swadeshis, freedom fighters, not ordinary robbers. They’ve taken a vow not to rest until their motherland is liberated from the curse of Britain. But they need money. They need to train and feed their men. They need medical supplies. And they need weapons. So, they are asking that every man in the wedding party give what is in his pockets, and that every woman give a piece of jewelry. In exchange, they will not hurt anybody, and the wedding party can hold their head high.

There’s a murmuring in the crowd. Neela notices an annoyed look on the wealthy landowner, Ram Prasad Chowdhury’s, face. It’s clear he’s not eager to give the freedom fighters anything. Then a voice speaks up from a corner, saying that it isn’t too much to ask. A handful of money should not be more important than a life of dignity. It is the baoul. He stands and holds up a fist. He holds out everything he has and says the freedom fighters can have it all.

The freedom fighters pass through the crowd, holding out large pieces of cloth. The baoul drops his coins into one of them. They make a clinking as they fall. Others begin to reach into their pockets, too. Coins and notes begin to fill up the cloths. Usha’s father-in-law hesitates, then takes out a gold piece from the dowry bag and drops it in a cloth near him. Father gives his gold ring. Neela can’t see what the other men do, but women are taking off jewelry. Mostly small items, but at least they’re giving. Neela sees Usha slip off one of her bracelets and lay it on the cloth.

Then, someone is standing in front of Neela, holding out a cloth. Neela can see through the man’s turban, that he’s not a man, but a boy. He must only be about sixteen or so. He must have left his home and taken up the scary business of fighting the British.

Neela is about to take off her earrings, but then she changes her mind. She unclassed her new gold chain and puts it carefully on the cloth. It sparkles among the other items, clearly the most valuable piece. She feels a moment of regret, but she’s happy, too. She knows she’ll get into a lot of trouble when Mother finds out, but surely Father will understand.

A grin splits open the boy’s face as he thanks her. His smile’s white against his dark face, and there’s a slight gap between the front teeth. Neela likes the openness of his smile and its honesty. She wants to ask him more questions, but there’s no time.

As the freedom fighters gather to leave, Neela’s father tells her to go to the cook to pack a bundle of sweets for the freedom fighters. Neela picks up the hem of her sari and runs to the cook. He heard what father said and is ready with an earthenware pot to hand to Neela. She hurries back and hands the pot over to the boy. He smiles and thanks her again, and says they’ll think of her when they eat tonight.

The leader of the freedom fighters thanks everybody. He tells them that they can help by not buying British goods. They should wear only handloom cotton woven in India. Ladies should throw away the glass bangles. They should hurt the British in their pocketbooks. Then, he turns to Neela’s father. He says that he is a good man, and that he should join them. The motherland needs men like him.

Father responds that he doesn’t believe in violence, and that killing people isn’t right, even for independence. The leader answers that he doesn’t like it either. All these men and boys trust him, and he hates putting their lives in danger. But he knows the British aren’t going to hand over their country with a handshake.

Everyone at the wedding feast is talking excitedly about the bandits. There are many opinions. The landowner says that they’re all rascals. Who knows what they’ll do with the money they’ve collected. Father believes that they’re not liars, and the baoul says that it’s a good thing that India has a few sons who care more about her than about their pocketbooks.

The landowner says that the baoul is nothing but trouble. He should leave the village tomorrow morning, and the watchmen will be instructed to give him a beating if they see him around. The baoul gives a nod, and says that he finished what he came to do. It’s time that he leaves anyway. He picks up his ektara and staff and walks away.

Neela pushes past the wedding guests to follow him out, but the end of her sari keeps getting caught on things. As she calls out to him, the baoul turns and says that all she needs to do is remember the words “Vande Mataram.” He says he’ll teach her the rest of the song next time. Meanwhile, she should think of Mother India and what she can do for her. And then, he melts into the darkness of the grove.