Passing Thoughts

Kathmandus’ money mania –money makes the world go round is an old saying, but it proved to be an apt one, for my sister and myself one starry and glittering night at the Soaltee's Megha Malhar. We both were invited for a wedding anniversary and both of us were late, being working women. We entered a chill, cold and frozen room. Frozen, not by the freezing Kathmandu December temperature outside, but by the environment and atmosphere in the hall, despite being centrally heated. The scenario was as would be half a century ago, with the male and female guests separated by an invisible "Laxman Rekha". My sister and I wished the happily married couple and then sat at a vacant space between the two groups, both aloof and immersed in themselves. In all the glitter of diamonds and gold and heavily brocaded and worked upon saris and the smell of recently acquired money, we stood out like poor country cousins in simple silk saris, and light jewelry. Had we circulated we would have come across known faces, but everyone was sitting, and it would have looked odd had we walked across, and even if we did, where to? For no one came up to speak to us.

It was a Marwari party and the men must have had their wives in mind, sitting discreetly across the room, many of them with their saris over their heads. As for the women folk, we were not important enough for them to budge from their seats. The same applied for the men i.e. to pluck up their guts to come across to sit and chat up two single women of no consequence (in front of their wives), who’d walked in unescorted by male members of their family. Had we been the wives, sisters or daughters of highly placed politicians or bureaucrats, they would have braved their wives’ wrath, as they could have been placated later on, all in the name of business. But we were ordinary, unknown mortals and so were left to ourselves with a plate of peanuts in front of us. The waiters too with their drinks and snacks seemed to bypass us. Which left us with the peanuts which I polished off, as I was hungry, having rushed from office, stopping at home only for a quick change of clothes. Not changing would have been a shocker, for I would have been in a skirt and blouse.

Well, the host and hostess did come up to us a couple of times to see if we were okay, which we said we were, polite as we are. An hour or two down the evening, and a couple of drinks under their belt, a few men ventured to talk to us, but when they found out that we were ordinary employees i.e. teachers, they soon dispersed. Nepali men in general are polygamous by nature and the Marwari men are no exception. The fact that in Kathmandu, the Marwaris are one of the biggest flirts and have the most extra marital affairs is well known. They are the ones who have the money and the means to blow on women, who just go for their bank balance, not their looks or their grey cells, or the person that they are within. Money seems to fill the void left behind by the tall, dark, handsome and intelligent man.

It was one of the most boring party I’d ever attended. The atmosphere got to me and I retreated into myself, projecting just an empty shell of myself, ordinarily full of spirit and vivacity. Being a true blue Gemini the environment got to me.

The who’s who of Kathmandu’s business houses were there. All this was watched by an important man of the NTUC. He was the one who had introduced us to a few people earlier on. But this time he brought over a couple of businessmen and introduced us, not as teachers but as the daughters of late Bhairab Prasad Acharya and the sister of Raj Kumar Acharya. The metamorphosis was amazing. Suddenly we no longer were poor country cousins from Jhapa, come to Kathmandu to eke out a living. The magic wand being waved, we were one of them, if not better, the daughters and sisters of two tea-estate owners - Satighatta Tea Estate and Raj Tea Estate in Jhapa. Word got around and other businessmen came to meet us saying that they had visited our tea-garden for dinner and to play cards etc. We were in, we fitted in with them, and as the evening progressed along with the drinks, the gender separation was not so obvious. Guests got up and moved about. That's when I caught hold of our charming hostess and told her that we should organise a dance party. We arranged for music and the dance was on. A better end to an otherwise sorry, washed out evening. The silver lining was that, this has been the only party where I felt like a washed up, discarded rag doll, so cheer up folks!

The evening got me thinking, do I as a person, an educated individual have no standing of my own? My presence, my personality, my wit, my intelligence, does not seem to count at all, at these gatherings. I am a nobody, if I am not somebody in my own right. The ‘right’ should be in their shallow eyes. I have then to borrow from my father, my brother, and my husband, their stature, bank balance, position and identity to be noticed and taken heed of. A sorry state of affairs our society is in, moving ahead or should I say degrading to, in this 21st century.

(This incident really happened to the writer and is strictly her personal opinion.)

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The Glitter and The Gold