Satya Narayan Das Yadav, the youngest son of a wealthy land­lord from Siraha, had to pay a steep price for falling in love with Rasulia Khatun, a poor Muslim girl who labored in his family farm. Yadav’s was an audacious act back in the mid-70s, one that crossed all caste, religion and economic divides. He was chained for months by his family. He was ostracized. He endured deprivation all his life—even up to the present day when he is 63. There still are numerous sayings about landlords in Siraha, a district in the central plains. Landlords used to own thousands of acres of land. They possessed elephants. They had hundreds of servants. It was even said that a newly-wed bride in the village had to be offered to the landlords for the first night. The law didn’t apply to them; in fact it was practically in their hands.

 

When I met Satya Narayan in February in his dank apartment in Baneshwar, he had just performed Namaz (prayers) and was sitting alone. At first he was reluctant to open up about his love story. But he relented eventually.

 

The beginning

 

It was on a day in the monsoon month of Asaar (June/July) over 40 years ago that Satya Narayan’s eyes first fell, and were stuck, on the viva­cious 16-year-old Rasulia. She was one of the many laborers working in a muddy field that was abuzz with activity. Satya Narayan, who was affectionately called Bhrigu, was back home from college in Bihar during his vacation and had saun­tered to the fields to observe the plantation. He still has vivid mem­ories of Rasulia from that day. “She was fair. She had a cheerful coun­tenance, an attractive figure and a bewitching smile. Rasulia was like a fairy.” In fact, her beauty was the talk of the village and beyond.

 

So struck was Satya Narayan by Rasulia’s beauty that the sight of her that day dramatically changed the course of his life. He began pursuing her doggedly. He went to the fields when she came there to work. On days she didn’t, he roamed around her neighborhood. He concocted numerous pretexts to see her. “I had become crazy about her,” he reminisces.

 

By and by, Rasulia understood Satya Narayan’s inten­sions. They began meeting in the evenings on the sly. On days he could not see her, he went insane. Because of her, he abandoned his studies. “I did not go back to col­lege,” Satya Narayan remembers.

 

He belonged to a staunch Hindu fam­ily. Rasulia, on the other hand, was the only child of a poor Muslim fam­ily whose two gener­ations had served Satya Narayan’s family. Soon villagers started gossip­ing about their affair. His father and his brother asked him about it. They were troubled by the social stigma attached to such a relationship. They were vehemently against it and they coaxed and cajoled him to end it. But Satya Narayan would have none of it. So they started beating and chaining him up. “I was ready to endure any pain for Rasulia’s sake. I told them that I love her and am ready to leave everything, but not her,” recalls Satya Narayan.

 

His mother didn’t have much objection to the relationship. She was ready to fight society’s dogma­tism but was helpless in front of her husband, who was hell-bent against accepting Rasulia as his daughter-in-law. But Satya Narayan was equally obstinate about marrying her. His father even asked him to take Rasulia as a mistress but marry someone from their own caste group.

 

But Satya Narayan rejected the proposal outright. “How could I take the queen of my heart as a mistress?” he asks rhetorically. “Then they started torturing me again. But I would not cave in.”

 

 

From Satya Narayan Yadav to Mohammed Alauddhin

 

Then the family used the final arrow in its quiver. In an assembly of all extended family members, they said, “Tell us Bhrigu, which one do you choose? Your family and a landlord’s life, wealth and status, or a poor, uneducated, Muslim girl?”

 

Satya Narayan stood up. For the last time, he touched everyone’s feet as a mark of respect. And, with unshakable determination, said, “I choose Rasulia.”

 

For Satya Narayan, Rasulia’s shack was an abode of heavenly love. That’s where he went straight. And then headed to a mosque. He donned a white taqiyah (cap). And he started reciting Namaz. The news of the landlord’s son becoming a Muslim for the sake of a woman spread like wildfire. Villagers started call­ing him ‘Haal-miya’ (a recent convert to Islam). Satya Narayan Das Yadav became Mohammed Alauddhin.

 

The couple lived together for a while before getting married in the Muslim tradition. While Rasulia’s relatives were present for the cere­mony, Satya Narayan’s weren’t. The couple exchanged vows of lifelong love and support.

 

Satya Narayan’s life was complete­ly upended. Somebody who used to divide farm work among hundreds of laborers now became a laborer is someone else’s fields. But after a while, he asked for his share of inheritance. At that time, his father owned 80 bighas of land. His family declined to give him any land. In the face of societal pressure, they gave him 1 kattha. Satya Narayan was compelled to knock on the court’s doors. That was in 1976. The court ruled in his favor, but he could still get only 1.25 bighas because his father claimed he had only five bighas. Even the small piece of land Satya Narayan got was of an inferior quality that he couldn’t farm or build a house on. He couldn’t sell it either.

 

Days of hardship

 

Satya Narayan has been living in abject poverty ever since. He raised his two sons and two daughters in Rasulia’s hut. “It’s been 41 years since I have lived there,” says Satya Narayan, shivering with cold.

 

The day his eldest son was born is fresh in his memory. He couldn’t afford nutritious food for Rasulia. A neighbor came to their house in the evening and gave him a bag of rice. “Your mom sent it covertly for Rasulia,” she said.

 

Satya Narayan’s mother used to dote on him. She had nine bighas of land in her name, which she wanted to divide equally among her two sons. But her plan was thwarted by Satya Narayan’s father and brother. “My mom died from worry”, says a visibly emotional Satya Narayan. “I couldn’t even see her for the last time. No one called me for her last rites.”

 

He couldn’t educate his children properly. His eldest son had to dis­continue school after grade five because he couldn’t afford the Rs 55 fee. His other children are illiterate. “The children of my brother and cousins became CDOs and doctors. And engineers and politicians. Some went to the US and to Australia.” But Satya Narayan’s eldest son is a fishmonger in the village. He talked to his other son on the phone eight years ago. “Dad, I am a plumber in Kolkata. I will come to the village one day,” Satya Narayan remembers his son’s words. But he didn’t return. Satya Narayan doesn’t know where he is now. Both his daughters are married.

 

His father also passed away a few years ago. The whole village was invited to his funeral, but not Satya Narayan. Still he went there. Some­body gave him food which he ate in silence. And he left without talking to anybody.

 

Now Satya Narayan is worried about his grandchildren. He has given up hope that he’ll ever receive his share of inheritance. At his son’s insistence, he filed a case at the district court. He lost. Two years ago, he filed another case at the appellate court. The verdict isn’t out yet but he’s not optimistic.

 

Satya Narayan and Rasulia lived a life of deprivation but full of love. He has no regrets. These days he spends his time staring blankly into the distance. He doesn’t talk much. But he misses Rasulia terribly. Because she left him, and her worldly life, nine years ago.

 

 

Satya Narayan in his friends’ eyes

He’s a childhood friend of mine. He endured untold suffering for the sake of love. His father and brother chained him up for more than a month. They left no stone unturned to make him leave the village; they even threatened to kill him. But Satya Narayan remained steadfast. In our region, Yadavs don’t marry Muslims even now. What Satya Narayan and Rasulia did over 40 years ago was unimaginable. They set an example. They taught us that caste, religion and economic status should not be impediments to love.

– Ashok Yadav, 58

I compare their love with that of Laila and Majnu. They were beaten up. Rasulia was like a fairy. Satya Narayan’s father had promised him that he’d find a more beautiful wife for him than Rasulia. Had he married the girl that his father chose, he would be living in a palace now.

- Bechan Yadav, 50

So intense was their love that they were inseparable. Satya Narayan’s life was destroyed because of his love. For its sake, he didn’t care about wealth, caste or religion. Had he not married Rasulia, he would have lived in a palace.

- Amarnath Yadav, 55

 

By RAJU SYANGTAN

(with help from Santosh Yadav in Siraha)