I need to start some project on my blogs in order to stave off boredom. As it is, this blog has become boring and no one reads it. So, if you have been a silent reader, let me know by clicking on the comments link and saying, "I sometimes read this too!" It shall be hugely appreciated.
Over the next few days, I shall be relating stories about "Arranged Marriages", the good and the bad. Some will be my experiences, some will be of people who I know. Before I start, I need to announce (since, I AM an attention queen, now sadly corralled into oblivion, but I had my time, oh yes, I did!) that I am single, have never been married and that arguments (if any) would have tilted to the ridiculous had my dear countrymen been aware of the existence of this blog. I for one, think "Arranged marriages" suck. Like communism, the concept can be appreciated, but sadly, practical implementation is next to impossible.
Let me start from my parents' marriage. Let me also mention (since some family reads this) that I relate the story from a very non-judgemental point of view and that despite being fairly close to my parents, I can be objective about their lives, as I can be about mine.
My father married because his cook ran away. My mother married because she had no options and because she had no ambition but to be a good wife and mother. Now, you may realise that the two reasons are sadly not convergent. My parents' marriage exists because both of them are too lazy to look for other options and still care too much about what people would say if they separated. I also suspect that almost thirty years of cohabitation has made them too dependent on each other. Anyway, this post is supposed to be about the story of their marriage and I shouldn't meander away from the topic.
When my mother reached marriageable age (23 or 24 and armed with a postgraduate degree in history), my grandparents started hunting for a suitable groom for my mother. The criteria of selection was that the "boy" should be well-educated and "foreign" returned. After searching high-and-low and rejecting scores of "boys" my grandfather was told of my father (very well-educated and "foreign" returned) and they met each other. Now, my grandfather was a well-respected figurehead in the community he belonged to and when my paternal grandfather heard that my father had been approached by my mother's father, he sent a missive to my father that he should accept the proposal even if the "girl" (my mother) was one-eyed or lame. The clincher was my father's cook running away and creating a situation that my father could not cope with and thinking that a wife would take care of messy household situations, my father agreed readily to get hitched up. My mother's approval was to be final and she got to meet my father once or maybe twice and I suspect was not given too much time to think about it. My mother was happy that she had been a good daughter, my father was happy that his problems were now solved and my grandparents were happy that the last of their parental duties
1 were over and so my parents got married and continue to be married for thirty years.
1In India in earlier times and maybe in some uber-traditional households even now, daughters are perceived to be a weight around their parents' necks and it is the foremost duty of the parents to get their daughters married off as soon as possible, once they reach the correct age.
