By Kristin Boyd Staff Writer
Shobhan Bantwal
The Indian dowry system is a complicated web of tradition, corruption and greed. Even though the nation’s leaders banned the practice more than 40 years ago, many women still die or suffer injuries because of dowry-related abuse.
In America, such acts are considered domestic violence. In India, sadly, they’re too often considered commonplace, says new author Shobhan Bantwal, and Indian native who resides in Robbinsville.
”A lot of things start out with the best intentions, and then all of a sudden, a handful of people take advantage of it,” she says. “It takes on a different flavor. Over the years, it just became a greedy system. It became extortion, almost like blackmail, and women are being abused because of it.”
The atrocities spurred Ms. Bantwal to write her debut novel, “The Dowry Bride” (Kensington Books), which sheds light on a social custom few believed to exist in the 21st century.
”I wanted to give Americans and Europeans a good read and a glimpse into Indian culture that hasn’t really been talked about before,” Ms. Bantwal says, describing the novel as both entertaining and educational. “It’s only when the rest of the world becomes aware of this atrocious system that people will start to question it.”
Dowries, which typically include money, jewels and real estate, are given to the groom’s family upon marriage. In some cases, grooms will call off weddings, or worse, kill their brides, if the dowry is too small or goes unpaid, Ms. Bantwal says.
Larger cities now have safe havens for dowry abuse, she adds, but in smaller towns, people are fearful to speak out.
”It started out as a good system to make sure the daughter was taken care of. It was something to fall back on,” she says. “Now, it’s no longer a gift. It’s a demand.”
”The Dowry Bride” weaves together universal themes of betrayal, love and courage, while highlighting the contradictions of the Indian culture. The “dark and gloomy and controversial subject” adds to the book’s layers, but Ms. Bantwal was careful to craft a balanced read. She incorporates lush images of Indian culture and Indian words, such as kandeel (lantern), varadakhshinas (dowries) and janam-patrika (horoscopes).
The story follows Megha, a beautiful girl whose name means “cloud” in Sanskrit. To her parents, she arrived an unexpected, unpleasant surprise who cast a gray shadow over their lives. If another child was to come, they want a boy, who would owe no dowry when married.
At 21, Megha feels trapped in an arranged marriage to Suresh Ramnath. One night, she overhears her husband and ferocious mother-in-law, Chandramma Ramnath, plotting to kill her, so she escapes. As she embarks on a journey to save her life, she finds freedom, hope and a chance at true love and happiness — despite a few hurdles.
”She starts out rather shy and naive, but she learns a good life lesson and is willing to fight back in her own way by becoming independent and showing people she can make it on her on,” Ms. Bantwal says. “Not in a violent way — just by proving everyone wrong.”
Ms. Bantwal, one of five girls, was born and raised in Belgaum, a small town in southwestern India. The area’s rich culture and customs serve as the backdrop for Palgaum, the fictional setting of “The Dowry Bride.”
Ms. Bantwal earned a bachelor’s degree in sociology at an Indian university near her childhood home. After graduation, her family arranged for her to marry Prakash, an Indian man living in New Jersey. Today, when a happily married Ms. Bantwal discusses her husband of 34 years, people often ask her how she could marry a stranger.
”I wasn’t scared. The thing is, for me, it was a normal way to get married,” she says. “Everyone I knew, my older sisters, my mother, my aunts, all of them were married like that. It wasn’t half as scary as it would be if I had been raised in the United States.”
Her marriage, she adds, did not involve a dowry; her parents are progressive and do not adhere to the now covert system. Additionally, with five daughters, they would have gone into perpetual debt paying for large dowries, she says.
Ms. Bantwal moved to the United States in 1974 and spent the next 10 years as a housewife and mother to her daughter, Maya, now 30. She later earned a second master’s degree in public administration at Rider University and began working full time in state government.
When her husband started traveling as a consultant a few years ago, Ms. Bantwal says she needed to find a hobby to keep busy and stave off boredom. She started to write. As her words spilled onto the page, a new passion emerged.
”I call it my menopausal epiphany,” she says. “At age 50, the interest struck like lightning.”
Ms. Bantwal enrolled in a creative writing course at Mercer County Community College, where the story behind “The Dowry Bride” unfolded during a class assignment. The professor, while critiquing the piece, told Ms. Bantwal she had too many characters for a short story and should expand it into a novel.
”Most Americans didn’t know that the dowry system still exists, and they were fascinated by the subject and the culture,” she says. “I wanted to give American readers an idea of how it all works.”
With help from her classmates, she completed the manuscript and began contacting publishing companies. The rejection process was frustrating and sometimes hurtful, so she was grateful when Kensington Publishing in New York City offered her a two-book deal.
”It’s almost like hitting the lottery,” she says. “It just seems like there is always a time for something, for everything. Maybe this kind of fiction is now coming out at the right time.”
Ms. Bantwal says she’s living her happy ending, though she’s planning to stretch it out over a few more chapters. She is now celebrating the recent birth of her first grandchild, Karina, and working on her second book, which will also delve into another aspect of Indian culture.
”I want to be a role model for older women, because you can put all those crazy hormones to good use,” she says, laughing. “It can be the beginning of something new. For me, I started a second career — at 50.”
On the Web: www.shobhanbantwal.com.

