Soon after my arrival I asked my sister when I should see the Maharajah, but to my great disappointment I was told that I was not to see him until my wedding-day. The interval was taken up with elaborate ceremonies.
The Dewan and the State officials came to see me. Seated on a carpet, I received them and accepted the coin which tradition demanded they should give, and thanked each by bowing. As I never lifted my eyes, I could not distinguish one from another.
The day before the wedding the Dewan and a few Raj pandits came to see my father and talked over the ceremony. They told him that parts of it would be according to the old Hindu rites. To this my father refused to consent. All these difficulties have been described and explained in books written by missionaries of my father, and I need not repeat them here.
The town was beautifully illuminated and decorated. I felt very nervous, though very happy at the thought of seeing my betrothed. When the time drew near, I was sad at the thought of leaving the home that had been such a happy one.
To our great surprise the time appointed for my departure passed, and there was no sign of my going away. Then we heard that the State officials were still discussing the question whether we should be married before the Maharajah left for England or after his return.
After a long delay I was told to get ready. They dressed me in a pretty sari and I was soon ready to go. My sister Bino and I went in one palki, and my grandmother followed in another. A grand escort from the palace came to fetch me. The time to say good-bye had now come. I touched my father’s and mother’s feet, and said good-bye to the others. I realised that I was bidding farewell to my childhood, and that I stood on the threshold of a new life quite different from anything I had ever imagined. The thought frightened me, and I broke into loud sobs.
As in a dream I heard my father’s beautiful voice comforting me. His tender words fell like balm on my aching heart. He whispered one short sentence which gave me strength for my ordeal.
I dried my tears. Then, accompanied by my sister and followed by my grandmother, I went to my future home. Never shall I forget that journey through the crowded streets. I could hear the outcry which greeted our palkis. The torches flashed with a weird effect. At last the palkis stopped in the courtyard of the zenana part of the Cooch Behar palace.
I found myself in the midst of a great crowd of women. I stood, the observed of all, and listened to the various comments on my appearance. I was outwardly calm, but in reality I was a very scared miserable little girl. Then a lady came forward bearing lights and flowers. It was the Maharajah’s mother, and she was performing Varan, or welcoming the bride.