Guest post by RITA KOTHARI

 “Woh kam-jaat  ladka hai. Phir kaise uske saath bhag gayi?  Sochna tha na  pehle?”  (He is a low-caste boy, why did she elope with him then? Shouldn’t she have thought of this?”)

Vimala’s judgment was unequivocal. She was talking about Hansa, her neighbour  and my former ‘help.’  Hansa  is  a young girl , perhaps seventeen,  and she  recently eloped with a boy. I stopped myself from saying anything facile, as yet.

“Ab pyaar poochhke to hota nahin, “ I said to her.  Love seeks no permission.

“To bhugatna bhi padta phir.”  Then be ready to suffer, Vimala quipped.

She went on to tell me about an incident she had witnessed in her village,  about 30 kilometers away from the big town of Dungarpur in Rajasthan. A Rajput girl and Sewak boy eloped. They settled down in some city, and ten years went by. Meanwhile the girl had a child and was carrying her second baby. Her family had managed to track her whereabouts and convinced that she would be welcome home. The couple returned to the village for a visit. One night the girl’s brother put out lights in the entire village. The young couple was killed.

“Poore gaanv ki bijli band kar di, aur maar dala dono ko. Humne dekha apni aankhon se,” Vimala said.

I stood transfixed. What was more accurate here, fiction or life?  I had just returned from watching the  Marathi film, Sairat.

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