Life isn’t complicated. We complicate it. Whether you agree or not but do consider some thought on the various knots we’ve have tied ourselves to. The societal, the family, the professional and various other pressures that we inflict on ourselves.
Lately, I encountered one such episode, a story worth telling. And this is how it goes (won’t be giving names here as I respect the privacy of people involved).
She was the typical poster girl of wifey material. The ones who would sacrifice their careers, their happiness, their social life, their routine blah blah…for their husbands. The ones that any guy would love to take home to meet their mothers because she could be easily tamed, without a threat to the matriarch. A sure-shot marriage material. Docile, domesticated, dedicated to every cause in life.
She was extremely worried and asked yours truly advice on shopping for the right match in the marriage market. And I who’s never been successful in my findings jumped at this opportunity. Why wouldn’t I, who could miss this rare chance to give gyaan? I flooded her with an elaborate checklist to match. She seemed extremely scared of the proposition which was exactly my intention. After all in a country were the sex ratio is low and proclaims how rare women are, shouldn’t she make the most? I told her that arranged marriages should be a strict no-no. She should allow men to pursue her and then date some. Dump most, let few more chase her and date the most eligible ones. Filter the suitors, take a test drive, do a suitability test on every front. Then take more time to hand-pick the right candidate. Come on, if a swayamvar could be arranged for Sita in the days of no-internet, no aircrafts, no metros…you atleast deserve to hold a ‘why you?’ questionnaire form. More important, let the man not forget in his lifetime, that he is the chosen one. He should feel the gratitude of a Bharat Ratna recipient for being able to win the crown of “happily married”.
The only reaction I could achieve was more confusion in her mind. She claimed that whoever she liked, liked someone else instead. While the others she didn’t like, fell in love with her. She is infatuated to an old friend who has refused the proposal citing technical difficulties like inter-caste, inter-community etc. So she is hard broken and thinking of a shortcut to fame by way of saying ‘yes’ to a foreign proposal. I don’t blame her. Sadly, still a major chunk of our population lives the abroad dream. They think live is a roller-coaster there but reality turns out to be a trip of no joy.
I didn’t want to confuse her more and decided to make an exit. She offered to come out too as she had her brother waiting for her. Wow! I thought. Brothers are nice to have if they make time so late, just to meet you.
Bidding a hurried adieu, my new found friend left and my eyes naturally followed her through. It stopped at the image of her brother who stood at the gate waiting for her. I was about to go and drop the pleasantries (I was impressed with his dedication towards the sister, who does it in today’s time?). Just then I saw him hugging her tight with nothing brotherly though. They passionately exchanged a kiss.
I maintained a safe distance, didn't’t want to share the spotlight. I am no moral judge but couldn’t help wonder ‘What is this complication all about, why can’t she come out clean, why the confusion of to be or not to be?”
Pic Courtesy: Google Images
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