He knows her, he knows her not?

by Aditha Dissanayake

Sharp at the auspicious time the boy's uncle brings the blade towards his cheek. He is going to have his first shave. He wears a grave look on his face, covered with the first bristles of manhood.

He gulps once or twice and tries to stay still as the young stubble is shaven off. He is seventeen. Today his family is celebrating his first shave. In another week he would be getting married.

The girl stands beside him on the poruwa, clad in the traditional Osari. Deep black eyes, young and innocent, like the eyes of a doe, peer through the jewelry, worn to match those of the goddess Paththini (the goddess of fertility). The black irises shine as brightly as the "thalla" on her forehead. As her uncle begins to pour the water over their entwined fingers, she feels his arm brush against her.

She glances at him through the corner of her eye. She has not seen his face clearly yet. She had been too shy to look at him when he had come with her parents to arrange their marriage. She has a vague idea that he is tall and thin, has fair skin and curly black hair. She knows he is two years older than her. As they step down from the Poruwa a coconut is shelved in half.

Inspecting the two broken halves of the coconut the relatives prophesy the future of the couple. They speculate whether the first baby will be a son or a daughter and whether the marriage will be happy or not, by looking at the sizes of the two halves of the coconut.

Lunch called the "adara batha" (the meal of love) lasts for over three hours. The bride and the groom seated at the head of the table, eat from one plate.

When he thinks no one is looking he pushes pieces of fish towards her. She takes them timidly, but picks at her food. She finds it an effort to mix the curries together on her side of the plate and raise her hand towards her lips. She thinks the eyes of the entire table are on her.

They are having the second of the four meals provided during a marriage ceremony. The first called the ladara batha is given before the wedding to the relatives and friends who assist the bride and her parents in preparing for the marriage.

The third, called the Kadara batha is given after the wedding to everyone who helps on the day of the wedding. The final meal called the Yodara batha is the special meal given by the bridegroom and his parents the day after the wedding.

Gunshots are fired into the sky when the bride enters the compound of her husband's house. This is to inform the village of the new alliance between the two households. The sound lingers in her ears as she is escorted to their bedroom. She sits at the edge of the bed and waits quietly for him.

The black teak furniture gleam in the light of the kerosene lamp beside her. Outside, everything is quiet except for the never-ending chorus of a group of crickets. He comes into the room and quietly closes the door.

She turns towards him and sees his face for the first time. He has curly hair, a thin face and dark black eyes.

He smiles down at her. She begins to stand up. But he moves towards her, places his hands on her shoulders and gently pushes her back onto the bed. Seating himself beside her, he raises her chin towards him. She looks into his eyes and sees the gentle sparkle in them. Her heart begins to beat rapidly.

Strange emotions, hitherto unknown, begin to engulf her. She buries her head on his shoulder. His hand moves towards her hair. Slowly he begins to loosen the knot tied to the nape of her neck. She feels his fingers tremble as they encounter the thick black stresses.

The chatter of two squirrels in the garden announces to the world, the dawn of a new day. The girl lies on the bed, her thin, lithe body wrapped in a white sheet. She looks as radiant as the flowers in the frangipani tree outside the bedroom. The door opens and her mother-in-law comes in.

The girl gets up and begins to get dressed. She moves around the room, serene and calm. He stands at the window, with his back turned towards the two women, while his mother holds the white sheets on the bed, to the sunlight and examines them thoroughly.

From the curve of his cheeks the girl sees her husband is smiling to himself. Thinking of the hours that had passed between them, she too smiles. He is still a stranger to her; yet, last night he had known her the way only a man could know a woman.

There is a smile on her mother-in-law's face too, as she takes a coin from her bosom and ties it to the edge of the bed-sheet. The coin means the girl has proven her virginity. She would now be accepted into the family as the bride of their youngest son.

Marriages such as the above are no more.

Young Sri Lankans of today, find their own partners, and get to know each other before they tie the nuptial knot. But some customs like the poruwa ceremony; obeying auspicious times and the virginity-check are adhered to even today, with much the same zest as they had been observed in the past.

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