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time,’ Mamma recalls.
    ‘What a problem we had! My father had to construct a toilet when we got married especially for her. It was the talk of the village,’ he guffaws, ‘They were interested in the toilet more that the pretty bride.’
    ‘Were you very beautiful?’ I ask.
    ‘I was called Mala Sinha – the star. The Burmese watched a lot of Indian movies,’ Mamma says coyly.
    ‘Her father was a king! He was so rich but her brother was jealous of me,’ says Dadoo getting agitated.
    ‘My father died at the age of sixty-five. He was coming to India. He died of heart attack. Everything in Burma was confiscated by the government,’ Mamma continues.
    ‘They had a very bad time after that. Bahut bura haal hua [it was very bad] ,’ says Dadoo.
    ‘My father had five brothers; two were in Burma and the rest were in India. I had so many cousins, now I have lost touch with them,’ says Mamma wistfully.
    ‘Look at her brothers’ children. They are not doing anything,’ says Dadoo.
    ‘What are your brothers’ children doing?’ Mamma asks defensively.
    ‘Her father married twice,’ says Dadoo ignoring Mamma’s barb.
    ‘Your brother also married twice. What about him?’ Mamma counters.
    ‘Oh, you don’t know her brother, your mama, he never invited me to have food with him and he did not even have tea with me. He was so jealous.’
    This topic is getting out of control , I think.
    ‘She also did not love her brother, this is the truth. I know that,’ he says.
    ‘I loved him and I love him.’
    ‘She is wrong. I know it. They were of different mothers.’
    ‘In my marriage all jewellery came from Ambala. I had diamond karas [thick bangles], with rubies studded on them. My bhabhi was very good. She loved me more than her daughters,’ Mamma recalls.
    ‘Rewa, leave it. Talk something else. Don’t remind me of the sad past,’ says Dadoo out of the blue.
    ‘Is it hurtful, Dadoo?’ I say trying to look serious.
    Dadoo is silent.
    ‘Did you get a lot of gold in your marriage?’ I persist looking at Mamma.
    ‘ Rani haar [queen necklace] and gold karas, they weighed more than a kilo,’ says Mamma.
    ‘Asha, is your brother alive? Do you know anything about him?’
    ‘Yes my brother is alive. He lives in Delhi and sometimes in Bhabhor Sahib.’
    ‘Look at her, she does not know the exact whereabouts of her brother. She has no clue about his children. He does not even come to meet her.’
    ‘All this is because of you,’ Mamma snaps.
    ‘Don’t make a noise, go to your brother. You cannot stay there even for a night. He has not even called her for the last twenty years. They are strangers. He has never asked her if she is alive or not.’
    ‘ Shanti rakho [be calm] , ’Mamma says.
    ‘It is a question of fate, each one has his or her own kismat [fate] . Her mama was a judge. He and my father were class fellows and that is how we were married,’ he says concluding, giving Mamma an affectionate smile.
    ‘Out of the two families which one was more important, Dadoo?’ I ask.
    Mamma hisses, ‘ Chup reh, baat ko mat badha [keep quiet, don’t stretch the conversation].’
    ‘I can’t say. We both are winners in this marriage. When our marriage was fixed I was in Solan; prior to that I was posted in Bilaspur. Had I stayed there for a few more months, I would have married Malkiet’s sister. Malkiet’s father was very influential and rich. At that time marriage was more between families than individuals. So social status was important … ’
    ‘But aren’t you happy with her?’ I ask quickly.
    ‘Of course, she is the best,’ he says making Mamma smile.

8
    Dadoo was born in a small, non-descript village, Chaunta, in erstwhile Bilaspur state of present day Himachal Pradesh in the year 1931. He was named Jagdev, meaning the god of the world.
    His father, Lala Amrit Lal Verma was a landlord and the village moneylender – a ‘rich’ man from village standards. He had studied engineering in Lahore.