The Runaway Bride

or someone who hides her face coyly behind her palms at every question, it is difficult to imagine this is the same 14-year-old girl who rebelled last month against her father's decision to get her married to a 40-year-old, and for two years before that managed to stave off pressure from her community to become a child bride. In doing so, Asu Kanwar, a Rajput girl from Dechu village, 130 km from Jodhpur, may inspire other young girls in the region to resist and not end up as victims of an illegal and inequitous tradition perpetuated even today with impunity.

While there have been instances of weddings involving minors being stopped by the authorities in Rajasthan, Asu's is that extremely rare case where an underage girl has herself taken steps to call off the coercive marriage—and that too after an engagement. Her bold defiance, in which she was staunchly supported by her mother, created such outrage and tension among her community that Asu and her mother had to be whisked away to safety at a clandestine destination in Jodhpur by the government.

Asu's story began about four years ago, when she was just 10 years old. Her father, 45-year-old Bhom Singh, a marginal farmer, approached an acquaintance for financial help to cure his asthma. The family that helped him with a loan of Rs 49,000 was related to Sawai Singh, a relatively prosperous 40-year-old farmer "with a limp". Two years later, the family, reportedly with a wedding in mind, took Bhom to Sawai's village Nehran, near Pokhran. It was decided then that Asu would be given in marriage to Sawai. "It was at night and we had drunk a lot. I didn't even have a close look at the groom," recollects a repentant Bhom. "But I fixed the marriage in all goodwill," he says defensively, seated in his thatched roof hut and fanning himself and us with a cloth in the sweltering desert heat at midday. Our conversation is interrupted more than once as he receives calls on his mobile phone, probably a recent acquisition given the way he fumbles with it.

Father of three boys and four girls, this poor farmer, with a prayer on his lips for good rains and a prosperous harvest, is typical of many families in this region where child marriage continues to be an easy and a quick way to deal with the "burden and responsibility" that daughters bring with them. The average age of a girl in Rajasthan at her wedding, claims UNICEF, is about 16-and-half.

Soon after Bhom's visit, Sawai's family came to Asu's home and gave Bhom jewellery, including traditional silver anklets, to confirm the marriage. "They told me I didn't have to repay the money I had borrowed from them," Bhom adds. Neither Asu nor her mother, Keku, had any idea of what was brewing. When Keku found out, she demanded to see Sawai. He was brought to the nearest bus stand where Keku—but not Asu—caught a glimpse of him. "He was fat, had a limp and looked as old as Asu's father. No way was my daughter going to be married to this man," says the mother.

That is when Asu, illiterate and wearing a stopped watch on her left wrist, made up her mind to resist the marriage. "I was indifferent when I first found out my father had fixed my marriage," recalls Asu, sitting between a caged goat on one side and last season's bajra harvest on the other. Extremely shy and flustered by the sudden media attention, she speaks in Marwari which is then translated into Hindi. "But when I realised who my fiance was, I refused. I was scared, but I was determined not to go with that man," she adds. Her resolve was further strengthened when she found out that Sawai's brother Inder Singh's wife was allegedly murdered by his family for being infertile. She was the one, Asu recalls, who came home once to comfort her, saying she would take care of her once she married Sawai That nobody remembers the dead woman by her name but only as Inder Singh's wife is a telling indication of women's status in this region.

This whole series of proposals and refusals went on for nearly two years, till things came to a head in April this year. That was when it became a matter of honour for certain community members (Rajputs, in this case) in the vicinity. So much so that community leaders, referred to as panch, from the two villages camped for around a week at a school about 200 metres from Asu's house to pressure her family into getting her married as promised. "As many as 200 people had camped here to try and take Asu away. Even my brother and friends told me I should not break my word. I said no despite all the threats. I never realised initially who my daughter's husband was going to be," says Bhom, who by then had also turned against the marriage.

"Once a girl is promised in marriage, it becomes an issue of honour for them," says Nirmala Surana, an awareness officer at the Jodhpur District Women's Development Agency (JDWDA). "The girl has to go, even if the groom is dumb, deaf, ugly or has one foot in the grave." Surana, along with her team-members, were the first ones to intervene on behalf of the state when they were alerted by a local workers about the huge gathering near Asu's house. "We came and saw them sprawled around the local school. It was as if a festival was on, with food and drinks," Surana recollects. "The involvement of panches really scared me. They shouldn't have got into this," says Asu. The extremely powerful community leaders, explains Surana, are a big stumbling block when it comes to working with women and girls. "Even local mlas don't want to oppose them on issues such as women's empowerment and child marriage," Surana adds.

t took persistent dialogue, first through some gentle persuasion ('Why would you want to marry off this girl to somebody the same age as her father?') and then through firmer tactics ('She may be smiling now; what if she poisons herself later?') to make them abandon their goal. They were also threatened with police action for illegally occupying government property.

But they returned the next day, this time intending to kidnap the girl if she wasn't handed over. Bhom made a frantic phone call to government workers, who returned to the scene. "Keku and Asu were completely distraught. Their faces had shrunk with fear. We thought it would be best to take the girl, the mother and the other children to Jodhpur under our protection," states Surana. They were kept at an undisclosed location for 10 days, during which senior government officials were brought in to resolve the crisis. With so much government attention focused on this one case, those pushing for a marriage eventually withdrew their demand.

Finally, an out-court-settlement was reached. Sawai Singh's side withdrew their threats of kidnapping and excommunication of the family, in return for the jewellery and Rs 49,000 offered earlier. "Any court case would have complicated things further. We wanted them to realise the wrong they were committing, whether it's the age difference or the money involved," adds Indu Chopra, JDWDA's project director. It took two sessions with Sawai and his family, and three with the panches to convince them to back down.

To be fair, government workers say Sawai claimed he had no inkling that Asu was 14. And in a case that inflamed community passions so fiercely, the two people at the centre of it—Sawai and Asu—saw each other just once, and that too when a final settlement was being reached. Sawai was not part of the crowd that had camped near Asu's home.

A palpable atmosphere of fear still lingers in Bhom's household. "I often hear loose talk about revenge, but we have to move on," says Keku. Wiser after her harrowing experience, Asu says she has realised that marrying before 18 is not a good idea. "I am not letting it happen to my sisters," she adds. Asu will soon be attending an education programme for young adults nearby. "I want to study now. Marriage can come later."

But is Asu's refusal a sign of things to come? Perhaps. "This case has generated a lot of interest in this region, where there are many 15-year-old widows. This has convinced them of how wrong their parents were. We are also taking Asu's story to other villages," says Chopra. "With growing awareness and mobile phones among illiterate women, even the brave men of Rajasthan are ending up with their noses bloodied," smiles Surana. But this one victory is no cause for complacence. "We still have an uphill task ahead, trying to convince the panches about the ills of child marriage," says Chopra.