Skip to main content

Marriage and all that

When quizzed by her friends, my sister once admitted to her friends in an all casual manner that she might one day enter into an arranged marriage. Her friends, predominantly Chinese, was revolted by this idea to the extent that information about any passing Indian guy who came on their radar was immediately relayed to her. Of course, when friends arrange it, it is all right.
My dear non-Indian friends, before I proceed, let me clear one misconception. Arranged marriage is not forced marriage. In arranged marriage, you have a choice (and sadly so does the opposite number). What makes it particularly distinct are parents play matchmaker and decisions have to be made faster. Which means you don't play base. You just go straight to the home run. 

Personally, I was not in favour of it, though that was 4 years ago, when I came into university expecting life to be like American Pie. But God had other plans for me. Not satisfied of putting me through an all male secondary school education and 2 years of NS where the prettiest girl you came across was the 40 year old aunty serving food in camp, he thought he would carry on having a laugh. And so he sent me to engineering. Now girls in engineering, they are like viral videos. If you think you were the first to see and like it, check the number of views and likes. 

Yeap, thats right. Get in line. 

Therefore nearing the end of 4 years, I was actually thankful that I have arranged marriage to fall back on while my single chinese and malay guy friends started to hit the panic button. Then I came across another fellow Indian, who despite a similar turbulent 3 years in Mathematics (where the story is no better), continued to see arranged marriage as a cardinal sin. In the name of charity, me and another like minded friend spent a good two and a half hours trying to explain to him that where he was, he did not have what we call, a choice. 

However, eventually we realised that it was impossible to convince him, fudamentally because he was a mathematician, a mathematician who dealt with proof and certainty. For him the uncertainty of living with someone he did not know that well was a no-go. Here was a guy who thrived on proving 2+2=4 (by basically proving 2+2 couldn't be anything else. Well, you don't say!). The statistics and odds did not matter to him. As far as he was concerned, he had to spend at least a year getting to understand the girl before he decided to marry her.

I had no answer against this argument. Though my dear mathematical friend, while what I say may no matter to you, when the advice comes from a married man, with a touch of sarcasm and truth to it, I say you take it with a pinch of salt. To you he says,


"Tell him you can spend a year, ten years or a lifetime. But you will never understand a woman".

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Fool's Pride

I was rolling up the sleeve of my uniform, preparing for a call up that might never come, when I realised that somehow I was overcome by a strange sense of pride, a pride that wanted the length of my sleeve to be precise as I have always pictured in my mind. Any longer, I would look shabby. Any shorter, I would look amateur. Then I donned the green, tightened the velcro around my waist and looked in the mirror. It was just like before and the memories started flooding me. I never really liked it when I donned it for 2 years in a row. Then I was in a place where I detested the culture, the harsh discipline, the unreasonable demands and the lack of purpose in everything I did. But now that it was over, when I look back, it was perhaps the greatest time of my life. The suffering, the digging, the starving, the cold, the banter, the rowdiness, the jungle, the marches,the mountains, the food, the stories, the friendships, it was all worth the 2 years. A girl friend of mine once asked...
2 comments
Read more

Clubbing

Somebody up there do not want me to club. It has been one experience that has eluded me despite my multiple visits, that has brought as much excitement as me sitting in a meditative pose.  This is all the more interesting because my intention was simply to get a feel of it, and not kickstart a career as a party animal, that would either way not work for a person who dared not even to dance in the shower. Perhaps  though, it is not the circumstances, but the person to blame. I should have known I was not the party kind the very first time I set off. As I was tying my shoe laces, my father would politely enquire where I was going to. “Going to club”, I responded. “What? Like a community club?”, he carried on. I am not the most superstitious of persons, but when you are about to do something, it has to start off on the right tone. There and then, my father set the expectations of me, and all the stamps I received on my waist before entering the club became but so...
1 comment
Read more

Marriage and All That : Part 2

"How about I get married?" "Are you serious?" "Yea" "No really. If you are serious, I can start looking for one" "Uhh....Nah. I was just kidding" After a while, she stopped asking me if I were serious. Instead, she would laugh it off every time I suggested it, which was the original intention of my question. For me it was just comic relief, this idea of marriage that parents back in India would pester their children with once they reached just about where I was right now; young, working with a steady income and of totally no use at home. Though when she did ask me if I was serious, I do remember feeling a palpitation in my heart, the kind one gets when having to make a yuge decision (#trump2016 #makeamericagreatagain), knowing very well that she, along with an army of aunts, waited for my green light to start searching for a bride for the most promising of their nephews. A NRI (non residential Indian used to refer to the ...
2 comments
Read more