Can Priyanka and Subrata save their marriage? This is reality, without the TV. Some 36 hours ago, the couple took the train to Puri with their four-year-old son with instructions to spend four nights there after two years of separation.

The courts have a found a way of bringing couples in conflict together and, according to advocate Jayanta N. Chatterjee, in 29 out of 30 cases asking the man and woman to spend time together away from other family members has worked.

Justice Asim Banerjee was so certain of the chances of a reconciliation between Subrata and Priyanka he even summoned a legal representative of the 38-year-old man’s employer to make sure he got patch-up leave.

They married for love in 2001 but Priyanka had to walk out with their son because “they would fight over small things. Tempers would fly and they’d overreact,” said Srijeev Chakraborty, Subrata’s advocate.

Subrata filed an appeal for their son’s custody but the court had a different plot in mind. “Subrata was a little nervous but he is looking forward to the holiday. Priyanka too has agreed,” he added.

What is it like to be reunited after two years? Who says the first word? Who looks into the eyes first? What do they see?

Justice Amit Talukdar of Calcutta High Court set the path to the beach four years ago, trying to break the cycle of wife complains, husband seeks bail, divorce follows.

Many divorce suits are filed under Section 498A for domestic violence, but under the skin the reasons are often less serious. At times, even imagined.

“Most of these couples are able to reconcile in six months because the issues are trivial. If the wife complains about the husband being intoxicated at all times, the husband protests against her growing demands for things ranging from clothes and electronics to cars and house,” said Arun Maity, an advocate who has handled such cases.

Asimes Goswami, the public prosecutor at Calcutta High Court, sits with the couple and their lawyers once the court decides to intervene. “Many couples have been sent to Puri or been put up in a hotel in Calcutta for a couple of days,” he said.

 

Mithun, 28, and Dipanjana, 24, (picture below by Naresh Jana) didn’t have to go as far as Puri to “sob, chat and sort out their misunderstandings”. After a year of separation, they were packed off to Hotel Pushpa at Sealdah — all arranged by advocate Chatterjee — straight from the court and told to report back four days on.

“We weren’t carrying any change of clothing so we shopped for clothes, toothbrush and soap on our way. We weren’t allowed to use our mobile phones or go to other places during those four days,” said Mithun.

“We couldn’t let go of each other. We realised we had never lost our love for each other.”

The couple never had a problem, if left alone, in the first place. “It was my father-in-law who couldn't accept me because I was unemployed (now he runs a shop). He used to threaten me and wanted Dipanjana to remarry. The pressure was so much that Dipanjana filed a case of physical and mental torture against me,” Mithun recalled.

After they reunited, Dipanjana severed all ties with her father. “When I look back I feel really bad about the huge mistake I made by filing a 498A suit against my husband. I was immature and easily influenced,” she said.

Squabbling couples who are asked to spend time alone have to keep their lawyers informed at every step. The officer-in-charge of the police station under whose jurisdiction they take the rediscover-love vacation is kept posted, just in case.

Although the concept of the Indian joint family where couples had a collective, rather than conjugal, life is as good as dead, interference by parents and well-meaning relatives and friends is frequently the relationship wrecker.

“I haven’t come across too many couples who have an allegation against each other. The problem usually lies with the in-laws and well-wishers who intervene, misguide and don’t allow the couple to live in peace,” said Kaushik Chanda, an advocate.

Shubhajit Mukherjee, 32, a construction materials entrepreneur who married long-time girlfriend Shohini in 2002 knows. “From the neighbours to immediate relatives it was always about how good (or bad) the natun bou is. Her family too interfered. It led to fights and misunderstandings,” he said.

In 2004, Shohini filed under Section 498A. Had he done anything he shouldn't have? No, said Shubhajit. “There was always way too much pressure on her to perform. They wanted her to do chores even when she was pregnant. The same goes for her family. It was as if she was being pulled from two sides. She miscarried twice.”

Shubhajit and Shohini rented a separate apartment and stayed there for six months, cutting contacts with their families — even with his mother. Shohini quit her job. “We’d do everything together, from the weekly shopping to having meals. None of us really wanted a divorce,” he added.

Shohini said through their lawyer: “If the court had not intervened, we would have still been running around trying to hit back at each other.”

While the trigger for the tear is often the family, the cue for coming back together is frequently kids. Or social embarrassment.

Divorce among young couples between 25 and 35 is rising, said Goswami, and the seven-year itch may not be a myth after all. “We’ve noticed that the third and seventh year of marriage is very crucial. Applications from those above 40 are far less,” he said.

Records at Alipore court show that matrimonial suits have swelled from 1,054 in 2005 to 1,400 in less than seven months of 2008.

Gitanath Ganguly, the executive chairman of legal aid services who advises combating spouses, said: “After the marriage law amendment in 1976, some judges have been pro-active. The court as counsellor tries to isolate the couple from the rest of the family and gets them to meet under its direction through a verbal or written order.”

Psychoanalyst Nilanjana Sanyal agreed: “On realising that there’s hope, sending them away to find some time for communication can cut out the negative stimulants like friends and family”

There’s hope — some hope — even when the wife chases the husband around with a khunti (spatula) or the mother-in-law with a bonti (the Indian equivalent of the kitchen knife).

Abhishek Chatterjee, 38, married Aparajita in 1998 and they have an eight-year-old daughter, Anwesha. Within two years they were at each other's throat after Abhishek claimed, to the great rage of Aparajita, that she had a relationship with another man.

“Once Aparajita chased me with a khunti and burned me with it. I was forced to retaliate. The police threatened me with a 498A case and said they would lock me up,” said Abhishek.

Last year, Aparajita locked up the kitchen. “For six months we had no access to the kitchen and ate outside,” said mother-in-law Supriya, “we couldn’t take it any more and moved court.”

The court told Aparajita to open the kitchen immediately and cook together with Supriya. If this wasn’t exactly a kiss and make up, the family is at least managing to stay in the same house, though on different floors, without cutting each other up with a bonti. Aparajita did not wish to speak: “I am happy. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Some are happily reunited, some manage to coexist. Some can’t do either. The older you are, the tougher to embrace the possibility of reconciliation.

Shikha Ghosh, 58, has been married to Rabindranath for 33 years. “He had been torturing me physically, mentally and financially. I tolerated for 25 years till my daughter got married. I was forced to seek protection from law when he left me in 2006,” she said. When she invoked 498A and her husband sought anticipatory bail, the court pointed them to Puri. But they only got as far as the bus stand.

“We were about to board the bus when he started abusing me and we cancelled the trip,” said Shikha, adding that he was unwilling to bear the cost. Subrata and Priyanka have age on their side. So can they do it? We’ll know in three days.

ANTI-DIVORCE KIT

We may not all be rushing to court but neither are we complete strangers to what is mildly called marital discord. Here's a list of 10 things you can do other than file for divorce:

The mall: Spend no less than three hours in the evening together on the steps of City Centre every weekend for three weeks to watch other couples engaged in PDA

The river: Plonk yourselves on those dinky boats in the Hooghly, share pau-bhaji as you stroll down Prinsep Ghat and generally have a Parineeta experience

The movie: Watch Mughal-e-Azam together without getting up once. Try caressing each other's cheeks with feathers later

The food: Lunch at Aminia in a purdah-ed cabin or a cello-kabab dinner in a dark dark corner at Peter Cat

The drink: Sit at the tiny table next to the potted plants at Dolly's tea shop so that you get to jam your knees against each other

The song: Ei poth jodi na shesh hoy, the number from the Uttam-Suchitra film Saptapadi. Accessory: Bike. Skill: Hand-eye-voice co-ordination. What if this were a never-ending road? Scary

The workout: If bike not available, enrol in a gym as a couple and watch each other run on the treadmill. A never-ending road, if there ever was one

The trip: To Khajuraho just to stare

The money: Start a joint account as a trust-building exercise

The SMS: Send at least five mmmmm... messages to each other every weekday over a week

FIVE POINTS SOMEONE?

Some couples catch the night train to Puri to give their consumptive marriage a sea airing. And then there are some who prepare an action plan to give their breathless marriage a pause.

A recent report said Madonna and Guy Ritchie have given themselves a year to save their marriage using a five-point plan. We in India associate “five-point plans” not with Madonna but Manmohan Singh; not marriage saving, but poverty busting.

Earlier, there were rumours of the 49-year-old singer, who released her latest album Hard Candy recently, and her film director husband seeing divorce lawyers. Madonna denied reports of a fling with New York Yankee baseball player Alex Rodriguez.

The five-point plan is said to involve the couple working less (good thinking), the family joining Madonna on tour, less time on rehearsals and issues involving the children’s education in Britain.

If you thought it was only us, earthlings that had their marriages ruined by families, wait till you hear what the brothers of celestials can do.

Christopher Ciccone, the said brother, has accused Ritchie of being uncomfortable with Madonna’s once close relationship with him. Her “closeness” with her brother was an “issue” for Ritchie, Ciccone said.

“I don’t like him. He’s an unpleasant kind of person.”

The feeling is mutual, it seems. Doesn’t surprise us, Chris. We rate our bros-in-law No. 2 on the hate list. The saas, of course, comes before the saala.