By Fabian Lyngdoh
It is known that wedded bliss doesn’t last long in the Khasi society. This is because a Khasi man’s bliss is in ‘ka rympei ba rhem i mei’ (warm hearth of the mother). The ‘warm heart of the mother’ is the socio-religious institution of the kur (clan) itself. Divorce among the Khasis was lightly taken in the past because a father was not an institutionalized provider for the family, but he was only a friend, a co-procreator, and an honourable ambassador of his kur to his children’s kur in the marriage transaction. In the strictest sense, the father’s presence or absence has little to do with the cultural legitimacy, legality, honour and security of the family. Not a long time back we could hear elderly men when meeting each other after many years conversed among themselves as follows:
“Are you still with ki Shadap?” “No, I’m no longer with ki Shadap since five years back. It is already three years now I am with ki Lamare. What about you? Are you still with ki Sten?” “No, I am staying with my kur now. If things go well I may go with ki Mynsong.”
A woman’s individuality and personal name as a wife have little significance in social conversations because her kur as a whole is entering into social relationship through marriage. The traditional Khasi matrilineal system had an adjustment mechanism to accommodate single motherhood. When the uncles were there constantly to see to the socio-economic welfare of the kur, single motherhood was a perfectly normal phenomenon; it was neither honourable nor dishonourable, but it was socially accepted, protected and secured within the kur organization. The duty of the Khasi woman was to provide for the continuity and permanency of the social membership of the kur by breeding new members, and it was the institutional responsibility of the whole kur to see to the maintenance and security of the woman and her children. The more children, daughters and sons a woman produces, the more honourable she becomes. A Khasi family (ïing) with mother, father and sons without daugh-ters is more unwanted than a family of a single mother with many daughters and sons. But all that is said about the institutional security of women in the Khasi society is now a thing of the past.
A man stays in his wife’s house not so much by having co-procreated the children, but mainly by virtue of the presence of his, ‘ka knor ka phala’. Ka knor ka phala, means the ‘space’ created by sexual and marital reason for a man to stay in the house of another kur. If there is no sexual and marital reason, then there would be no space for a man of one kur to stay in the household of another kur. Whenever a wife dies we could hear conversations between the widower and uncles of the deceased as follows:”What are you planning to do now that our niece is no more?” “What can I do, my ‘ka knor ka phala’ is no more, and there is little reason for me to stay.” “It is up to you. You may stay or you may go as you will.”
The presence of men, as brothers and uncles in the kur has no sexual reference to their female members. But the presence of a man from another kur, has a sexual reference to the female members of the kur by his sexual relationship with one of their female members, principally, for the purpose of procreation. It is this sexual relationship which provides the ‘space’ or ‘ka knor ka phala’ for a husband to go on staying in his wife’s kur even after he has co-procreated many children, and his wife has long passed productive age. The kur of the deceased wife cannot expect her husband to stay in their kur unless they can provide another ‘ka knor ka phala’ from among their kur to replace the deceased one. If a man is so attached to his children and the kur of his deceased wife has confidence in his integrity, arrangement may be made for his marriage to any of the younger sisters of his deceased wife to provide continuity for the exist ence of his ka knor ka phala in their kur. Though such cases are not generally practised, but they are quite common in the Khasi society.
The present idea that a Khasi man is ‘u rang khatar lama’ which literally means a man of twelve flags but actually means a polygamist, is a borrowed concept. It has been frequently opined that besides his ‘ka lok trai’ (married wife), a Khasi man can also have ‘ki lok kliar’ (concubines) . This is neither a general phenomenon nor a traditional practice among the Khasis. There is no ground in the socio-religious thought of the Khasis that provides any legal or religious sanction for a man to keep concubines, or for Khasi women to be considered as mere concubines to a man. The ideas of ‘ka lok trai’ and ‘ka lok kliar’ must have emerged out of the influence of translations of stories of Rajas or Kings of patriarchal societies, who had queens and concubines. I have not come across any Khasi indigenous legend or folktale where there are references to a concubine, except some stray reference about the rajas of MadurMaskut. According to the Khasi socio-religious thought, no kur would disgrace itself by allowing its women to be mere concubines to a man of any kur.
Serial monogamy is permitted among the Khasis even today. A man may marry several women one after another, but not all at the same time. Marriage to the Khasis in the past was a mutual acceptance and recognition of the two kurs to the reproductive relationship of a man and a woman, not merely for their personal pleasure, but to establish ka ‘longkha-longman’ (kin relationship between clans through marriage). Therefore, every time a woman takes a husband with the recognition of the two kurs, that husband is considered legitimate (u lok trai) whether he might be the first, second, or third husband. All the husbands are equal in status; being first, second, or third is only a serial number, and all her children are legitimate members of her kur. And, every time a man takes a wife with due recognition of the two kurs, whether she might be the first, second, or third wife, she is considered a legitimate wife (lok trai), and his children from all the wives are the legitimate khunkha of his kur.
Khasi women are permitted to marry several men one after another according to their will. In fact, people in the villages speak about a woman’s numerous husbands with more weight-age than about a man’s numerous wives. We could hear people say with approbation that such and such a woman had husbands, numerous enough to fence her garden. But the concept of ‘khat-ar lama’ implies only to men, but not to women. Today, the concept ‘khat-ar-lama’ is generally interpreted as the license for a Khasi man to have concubines besides a legitimate wife, and in popular contempt for his act of leaving one wife after another. In the past, the term ‘khat-ar-lama’ was applied to a man less as contempt, but more as a matter of potency and pride. During the funeral of ‘ka meikha’ (father’s mother) or at the funeral of the father himself, all ki khun-kha would attend and present pieces of cloth called ‘lama’ (flags) in the funeral ceremony to be tied at the top of bamboo posts positioned at the four corners of the funeral pyre. As smoke from the funeral pyre rises, these ‘ki lama’ would be waving devoutly in the air to give honour to ‘ka kur meikha’ (father’s clan). So the idea of ‘u rang khat-ar lama’ does not refer to the cultural license for a Khasi man to practise polygamy, but to the fact of his having produced many khunkha to his kur from women of several kurs to pay homage at his kur’s funeral ceremonies. The concept of ‘ka lok kliar’ (concubine) as understood in patriarchal societies has no recognition in the social and religious thought of the Khasis. If the concept and existence of such a practice is prevalent today, it must be a recent phenomenon after the kur system has lost its institutional character.