In our Santhal marriage, the groom’s family brings *haṛiyal jaher* (rice beer) to the bride’s home for the elders’ blessing, and we sing *dong* songs for days. But listen—what the books won't tell you is how a marriage is truly sealed when the new couple plants a sapling together at the bride's *baha*, a living bond to our land. I’ve seen city weddings lose this; they take the money but forget the tree. My own grandson, in Ranchi now, had to be reminded by his *aṭu* to come home and plant that mango shoot.
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