The Hindu succession act

I removed the baked dish from the oven and sighed. I flipped through the Tarla Dalal cookbook on the kitchen counter. Since the baked dish was made in a white sauce it would need a side of carrot and spinach with it. My husband was very particular about the
presentation of food. There had to be a colour and texture balance in every meal. For him, food was like an elixir of life. In those days there was no Youtube so Tarla Dalal was my mentor. She made sure my husband was happy with my cooking.
I smiled at how all of this would have sounded unimaginable to me a decade ago. I had become very domesticated. From being a model I had become a super mom and a master chef. But I was content with my life.
My husband had a textile mill but business was not booming as much as we would have liked. We still had enough to give our children and ourselves a decent life.

The city of Surat had grown on me slowly. It helped to have a huge friend circle. Weekend house parties, games, and light-hearted conversations over drinks was the norm. Having children never changed our lifestyle. I had my first child, a boy, in the first year of
marriage. Then 3 years later I had a daughter and along with her my husband indulged me by hiring a maid to help me with the children. My family was complete we were content with it. But seven years later, life surprised me with one more child – a boy. Initially, I panicked as my elder son was ten, and my daughter was seven. Starting all over again seemed difficult. But when I held my second baby boy in my arms, all my fears vanished. I fell in love with my newborn. My mother-in-law had come to the hospital for my delivery. My father-in-law had been absent
from our lives for some time now. He had renounced family life and lived in a temple that he had constructed on our family property where we had our factories. However, I shared a very warm relationship with both my in-laws. In fact, my husband and I had played a big part in my sister-in-law’s wedding. We had stretched our finances to get her married.
Immersed in domestic bliss, I had no idea what lay ahead of me.
ON the 5th of June 1998, my world came crashing down. It was Ekadashi – a very
auspicious day in the Hindu calendar. It’s believed that on this day the doors of heaven are
open.
It was 6 am and I was snuggled in my blanket owing to the cool climate. I felt my husband
nudging me and I opened my eyes. He asked me for a glass of water. I sat up and gave it to him and asked him what happened? He touched his chest on the left side and said he was feeling a little uneasy. Assuming it was just gas, he stood up but immediately buckled down
falling on his stomach. I leapt out of the bed calling his name again and again. I ran to the other room shouted at my elder son who was fast asleep, to run upstairs and call his grandmother. I ran into my room, grabbed the cordless phone on the bedside and for some
reason, pressed redial. My husband’s friend picked up the phone and I shouted in panic,
asking him to rush over there- something had happened to my husband.
My mother in law came running down. My husband was yet lying on the ground breathing
very heavily. My mother-in-law shouted at me to get sugar. I ran in the kitchen got some sugar and tried to push it into my husband’s mouth but it kept falling out and I kept pushing it back in. He had stopped breathing… We thought he was unconscious. Some friends
reached home and instantly took a blanket, put him in it and holding each corner carried him down the steps.
My mother in law took off behind them. I was in my nightie so I quickly wore a dupatta and
ran down. They had left in a car with my husband and elder son for the hospital. I started running on the road frantically. Another friend was coming in my lane on his scooter. I hopped on it. My mother-in-law had gone on someone else’s scooter and I too left. We went to a hospital far into the city. Upon reaching there we got to know that my husband was not admitted there, he had been
taken to another hospital. Again I sat on the scooter and while riding he called from his mobile and got to know the name of the hospital where everyone had gone.
While sitting on the scooter I distinctly remember looking down and noticing that I was
wearing a white dupatta. It made me superstitious. I told my husband’s friend that I hoped all
was okay as I was wearing white. At that time, a drop of water fell on the back of my hand. I remarked, “Oh god I hope it doesn’t rain.” What I didn’t know was that it was a tear that had fallen from his eyes as he had been given the news on the phone.
We reached the hospital and I was confused to see many friends and relatives dressed in white standing outside. By now I was in a daze and very scared. I entered the compound of the hospital and one uncle came to me and said “Beta, your husband is no more”. I was
SHOCKED and about to collapse. Someone held me. I don’t know who. I just caught my
head and said “Uncle, I have 3 children. What will I do?”
I cannot ever forget that scene. It is etched so clearly in my memory.
A friend asked me for my parents’ number in Bombay. I gave it to them but still in that dazed
and foggy state I asked them to first call my sister so she could break the news gently to my
parents.
Some ladies took me home. I had no clue where my elder son was. I reached home and like an automaton, I checked on my daughter and younger son who were still sleeping. I went to
the kitchen and kept milk for boiling and started filling sweet water which came every
alternate day. I needed to fill drinking water, water for cooking and refill the bathroom tank
for the next two days. Like a zombie I kept a big container of water for boiling as we would
need extra with all the people coming for condolence.
Somebody asked me for the bedsheets and mat to lay out on the floor in the living room. My
friends were over, making arrangements. One of them guided me to the living room to sit on
the bedsheet that they had laid there. I sat and sat. People started trickling in. I was completely blank. Where was my elder son? I could not remember.
A few people got my late husband’s body and kept it in the centre of the hall. My mother-in- law was wailing loudly. She started throwing her gold bangles towards her daughter who was sitting opposite her and shouting for God to take her gold and return her son. My mind was numb.
Hearing the commotion my other two children woke up. I left my seat and went to them. My
elder son was 15 years old, my daughter was 12 and my younger son was just 5 years and 9
months.
I cannot remember my daughter’s reaction or anything about her, but yes I remember taking the youngest one to the washroom. He asked me why all these people were there and crying? I told him his father had gone to God’s house and, from now on he would stay there.
He innocently asked me, “So that means you will not be able to buy me toys anymore?” I can
never forget those innocent words.
My husband’s body was lying in front of me and the only thought in my mind was, “I have
Rs. 1200/- in my cupboard and three children. How will I manage?
I needed to look for a job ASAP. But then I thought, with my BA degree I will get a very menial job. So while my husband’s body was in front of me I could not cry. I was thinking of what I could do to earn money to support my children. I decided that after a few days I

would join a computer course so maybe I would get a better paying job. Such is the IRONY of
life.
In the meantime, my husband’s friends called me in the other room and asked me if I had
money. I told them that I had all of Rs 1200/-. Those angels had collected money and they
gave me a bag of Rs. 40,000/- and asked me to keep it. I was in no state to refuse so I just took it and kept it in the cupboard.
My husbands relative, a young man, came and asked for my husband’s office keys saying it
was going to rain and some yarn was kept out. It would get spoilt so he would shift it inside the office. I trusted him and I was in shock so I just gave him the keys and went back to sit with everyone.
My father-in-law was brought from the temple against his wishes. He believed that this was
God’s will as he had renounced worldly attachments. However, he had been convinced to come.
My parents and sisters reached in the evening – extremely shocked and grieved with the
news. My father had aged 10 years in those few hours. He hugged me and handed me a bag of money for me and my children. I returned the earlier amount to the kind friends who had collected it.
In the evening, my husband was taken for cremation. My elder son went with them. He later told me how they made him rub ghee on the body before lighting the pyre and how badly that affected his psyche. Our traditions are so heartless – they do not even spare a child.
In the night I lay in the hall in the place where my husband’s body had lain. I was wide awake when the doorbell rang late at night. It was my brother-in-law from Pune. I was waiting for him. I thought of him as our only hope for survival. My saviour was here and he
would take over everything for us. He came and hugged me and we both cried. He asked me if my
husband had left a will and I said no. We never spoke about all that; we were young- I was
38 and my husband was 39 and a half.
My brother-in-law told me to be ready in the morning by 9 am. He would take me to a lawyer to make a will as he knew about the HINDU SUCCESSION ACT. I could face a lot of problems because of that. He then left to go upstairs to be with his mother and sisters who
lived right above my house.
I drifted off to sleep and woke up on the 6th of June 1998, without the knowledge of the destruction a succession law could cause when misused.