Me Time

R,

Our generation prides itself on being super-duper progressive and open minded. Commenting about caste is enough to set off most Indian Elders’ gaskets, but we’re a lot harder to shock (I always anticipated our kids having to work really hard at it). Apparently, we’ve found the one thing that’ll do the trick.

When we talk about my plans for the summer, there’s dead silence from our friends, followed by hearty well wishes, interspersed with some bafflement. Why would I want to be away from you for so many weeks? They know my plan is to travel through Europe, but really, is everything okay with the two of us? 

Of course, last year when you went on a ‘boys’ trip’ to Africa, we didn’t hear any objections. If I had to paraphrase common wisdom, it’d probably go something like this: Boys will be boys, but as for girls… well, shouldn’t they just be girls? If I’d been single, I imagine this trip would have been perceived as free spirited and adventurous. Given I’m married, however, it becomes *ominous tones* Free-Spirited, not to mention Adventurous. 

There’s no doubt in my mind that I’d rather do this trip with you than alone. However, I saved up money for the last few years so I could eventually take time off and do my own thing. Not everyone has that luxury – you still have your 9 to 5 job and you can’t drop it to come traipsing through Europe with me. Should that mean I don’t go, or wait till you can come along, or settle for an eight day trip instead of the month long itinerary I had in mind? 

Honestly, we’re both givers in this relationship. It takes us a ridiculous amount of time to settle on anything because we’re busy trying to please the other person. I’d figure out a compromise on this trip if I had any hint at all that you wanted me to. You, on the other hand, don’t want me to compromise on anything; which is a feeling I fully reciprocate. I love how this barely needed a discussion, because it’s just not a big deal. I especially love how our parents see it the same way. They’re a lot cooler than we give them credit for, sometimes.

Putting this in perspective, it’s a month away when we’ve a lifetime together. It’s the same reason I don’t take you to my book club meetings and you go and play squash on your own. Yes, we’re one unit, and we choose to be together - but that doesn’t mean we stop being individuals. 

Happily,

A.

World Go 'Round

R,

I’m constantly amazed – and more than a little jealous – at how quickly you & your friends plan trips together. Each of you will be in a different city, or even country, and yet, you decide on a destination and a time frame, and it all comes together! 

I’m not suggesting that it happens magically. I see the effort you put into phone calls every weekend – and that’s when you’re not even planning a trip. When you are, it’s daily phone calls, flurries of emails, endless Whatsapp threads… I get that the trip doesn't materialize out of thin air.

If I were to plan a trip with my friends, it’d be impossible. They’d have to check with husbands, in-laws. They just had babies, or joined new jobs, or are pleasing demanding bosses and are unsure if they can take the time off. Their parents aren’t sure if it’s safe. They’re still paying off loans, and/or studying. They’re saving up vacation days for a wedding.

All of those are legitimate reasons of course, and there are plenty of Indian husbands who’d cite wives or babies or jobs as good reasons not to go on trips either. For some reason, you have the friends who don’t have those reasons in their lives. More likely, you consistently invest enough in the relationship for those reasons to be overcome.

I don’t think it’s realistic to hope for anything to change with my friends. Those living with parents or studying will go on to get married. They’ll have family obligations. It isn’t easy to ask for, or even necessarily want, ‘me time’ in an Indian marriage. The fact that I can want it, or that you willingly give it, doesn't mean that’s the case across the board. Objectively, I get it. Subjectively, it’s a whole other story.

-A.

Parents Know Best?

R,

P posted pictures of her baby girl on our family’s mailing list, she’s so cute!  She looks just like P, except for her eyes, which are her father’s. P’s parents will probably remember the fit they threw about the marriage every time they look into those baby blues. I wonder if it would have been easier for them to accept it if she’d married an Indian. Somehow, I doubt it. He’d have had to be a Brahmin too. A Tamil Brahmin at that. With the right gothram. Further…

Sometimes, parents want to control everything. I understand that it comes from the best possible place – they want to do everything in their power to give you what they consider the best possible chance of happiness. No option is comparable to the one they envisioned. It’s no different from their wanting a certain career for you, which they think will ensure a steady, good life. It has to be confusing for our parents, who find themselves in times that are very different from the ones they grew up in.

I’m not saying I’d be this mature and understanding if I actually had to argue with them. Luckily, both our parents are usually open to discussion, and willing to laugh at themselves – I can only hope that flexibility and patience is something they've passed on to us. It makes it very easy to respect them and give them a fair hearing in return.

I've noticed that Indian parents in India are usually more adaptable than those living abroad. The latter seem to feel the responsibility for Indian civilization as a whole lies on their shoulders. Maybe they think they’ll be judged more harshly because they’re no longer Indian residents. 

Look at L - Indian society meetings every weekend, strict curfews, tight restriction of pocket money, she’s never lived away from home. In spite of this (because of it?) she managed to sneak out, experiment, and have at least four serious boyfriends, any of whom would have horrified her parents. I don’t think they will ever hear about these boys, she’d be too terrified to bring it up, even if one were Tam Brahm and she wanted to marry him. 

When push comes to shove, I wonder if she’ll marry whoever they tell her to? Time will tell.

-A.

Where the heart is

R,

After one and a half years of living in Canada, we went back to India. It was an exhilarating, terrifying feeling. Neither of us had wanted to live outside India anyway. Canada was a one-off, a chance to stay in a place that let us explore the world more easily than India would, before eventually heading home.

I want our kids to have a childhood like ours had been – filled with relatives, friends, good food, and plenty of outdoor play time. They’d hear myths and wonder how they’d originated, and learn to be respectful, adaptable people with their own opinions.

Of course, when I looked at India with fresh eyes, I realized our childhood can’t be recreated. There’s far more traffic, safety is an issue, and while it may be a third world country, a middle class lifestyle is no longer cheap by any stretch of imagination.

Don’t get me wrong, I still find Canada a tad too complacent for my liking, and would prefer that my child grow up in a more ambitious, level-headed setting where not everything falls plumly in their laps. As sadistic as that sounds, all I’m saying is that I’d like them to strive to be the best version of themselves, not merely okay. I had parents who are faaaar from pushy and I feel that growing up unpressurized in a society full of pressures was the best of both worlds.

That said, as I fought with auto drivers and bargained over everything, the obvious question arose, “Why does everything need to be such a fight?” I love the way I can rely on constants in Canada – the predictability of public transport, the safety of the roads even at night, the marked prices on everything. Yes, a kid could be lulled into a false sense of security by it, and they may never learn to value any of it, but it would be so easy.

We’re going to keep going back and forth on this until I’m actually pregnant, and even then we may not know if we made the right choice. As I head back to India in April, I’m keen to see if any new insights come up.

-A.

Oh, Baby.

R,

Indian society is most amusing. As you know, we frown down on people interacting with strangers of the opposite sex before marriage - all that only happens in movies! However, we've no qualms demanding babies from virtual strangers the day after their wedding, and every day thereafter, till they've coughed up the requisite dual offspring. At this point, we start asking when they’re marrying their children off.

What perverse kicks do sundry neighbors get at being able to convey the news, “They’re trying!”? I suspect they feel it’s their dharmic duty to be able to advise the young couple misguided enough to admit, “Well, we can’t really afford kids right now,” or “We’re focusing on our careers.” It goes without saying that no Indian couple has ever dared to even dream the words, “We just don’t want kids.”

I seem to recall one of my relatives telling me the Gita or one of those other holy grails states you can only be reborn if you choose your offspring’s spouse, and expand the race caste-appropriately. And people wonder why India’s over populated.

I understand there’s probably comfort in predictability. When couples don’t produce said children magically, three, four, even five years into a marriage, random shopkeepers start to take note and enquire. I’m equally curious – haven’t these ‘helpful’ people ever come across the all too common reasons couples sometimes haven’t had kids, even (gasp) five long years into their marriage?

“I've had miscarriages.” “I’m infertile.” “He’s impotent.”How do they plan to help then?

As evidenced by our social media feeds (thanks a lot, Zuckerberg), our friends are having babies, and I’m thrilled for them. The downside is that other friends are trying to have babies, and that doesn't always make for happy conversations. I've heard heartbreaking stories (without asking!), and I can’t imagine the salt-in-the-wound it must be when they’re asked why they haven’t produced a baby yet. It makes me want to punch sensitivity into some people.

Remember when heartbreak used to be your favorite boy band breaking up? Life was so simple before babies – and our babies haven’t even been conceived yet.

=A.

Ever After

R,

Nothing makes me feel older than having divorced friends. It always strikes me how it seems to just creep up on you. Here are two people, getting into a marriage with the best of intentions, and all the optimism in the world. They’re affectionate and respect each other, both of which tend to be qualities which last a fair bit longer than romantic love or lust alone would. There are months of happy updates on travels and domestic harmony. Then, all of a sudden, there’s a radio silence, before the announcement.

Disagreements about money, babies, cities, professions, families, whether they really found the right person after all. It’s impossible to tell from the outside whether those are good reasons, or issues they could have resolved. Hearing about a divorce always makes me sad (and, I’ll admit, a tiny bit worried, because many of these couples seemed like great ones), but in a way, I’m so proud of our generation for having the courage to say they value themselves enough to get themselves out of an unhealthy situation. 

It seems far more mature than the alternative that Indians before this generation chose. My parents make such a great couple, but it occurred to me that that could have been a matter of chance. After all, when K was talking to my mum the other day, she asked, “What if the in-laws are terrible people who say I shouldn't work, and criticize my cooking, and my husband doesn't stand up for me at all?”, and my mother said, “Well, that’s unfortunate, but you’d try to discuss it and work it out.” 

Which certainly makes sense, but K persisted. “What if it still didn't work and I was worried for my physical safety?” 

“You’d still try to find a way to make it work,” said mum.

I’d like to think she was saying that because it’s theoretical, but we both know family friends who’ve stuck out tough situations without complaint for decades. It could just as easily have been my mum who ended up with someone who wasn't as perfect for her as my dad is. I’m not saying all these tough situations involved guerrilla in-laws or physical abuse. But who defines what an unhealthy living situation is? A simple thing like having a husband who took me for granted could drive me up the wall. I like the fact that our generation has the guts for both husbands and wives to discuss what they feel they’re due. I like the fact that we’re no longer silent. In 99 cases out of a 100, the marriage is happier for the discussion than it would've been without it.

Maybe a few generations down, we’ll have more live-in relationships and fewer marriages, or easy-come-easy-go attitudes towards marriage and divorce. Right now, though, despite the fact that I’ve more divorced friends at 26 than my parents have in their sixties, I think the state of marriage in India is getting to the best place it’ll ever be.

A.

Money Matters

R,

Fact: you’ve always made more money than me (you risked a pricey business degree, so you deserve the extra $$’s you retain after paying off the hefty loan).

Fact: It doesn’t bother me – it isn’t even something I think about.

Of course, that’s easy for me to say. We’re not getting a divorce, so the ugly battles of rights over money doesn’t come up. We don’t have joint assets, since we use up our money on travel rather than houses or cars. You’re older than me, you’ve more work experience, you’ve the fancy degree. I’d have something to think about if you weren’t earning more than me. 

What if the situation was reversed? You’ve always talked about starting something of your own. If you did, I’d be the primary breadwinner for a bit. I can’t imagine it changing the equation between us, but you never know. I’m inherently frugal, would I become a shrew? You’re ambitious, impatient, and believe in living life to the fullest – would you resent me? 

Money comes up in Indian marriages in so many ways, even assuming dowry is actually illegal and doesn’t enter the picture. From the suitor looking for working women (progressive!) with salaries less than his, to the parents who are suddenly reluctant to ask their daughter for anything despite having to take out loans for her wedding, and despite her giving them a portion of her salary in the past. The housewife who gets a monthly allowance, the question of joint bank accounts and who contributes what percentage of money to it. The possibilities for miscommunication are endless, especially given no one likes to talk about money.

I read somewhere that it’s the leading cause of marital disputes. It’s easy to imagine. 

-A.

Love or Arranged?

R,

One of the first questions the people here ask when they hear I’m married is, “Was it arranged?” They’re fascinated by stories of betrothals made by parents rather than the parties involved. When I tell them ours wasn’t what you’d call arranged because we knew each other from work, they find it far more romantic than if we’d been a Western couple who were expected to find their mates by falling in love.

Both observations are valid, but as with everything else related to India, neither is the entire truth.

Every arranged marriage is a love story. No spouse was picked out as objectively as an aborigine in a market. There’s always the “we first talked when…,” the “I knew he was the one when…”. There’s the poignancy of lives conjured and then abandoned, when matches didn’t materialize as anticipated. Nothing makes that heartbreak any less real than if the couple had been dating. There’s nothing pragmatic about people telling you they’ve found their match after years of searching.

Before B married P, she told me, “He’s not ready for a relationship. There’s still a lot he needs to work through. But I’ll wait, and maybe he’ll be ready someday. Even if he never is, he’ll be a good partner.” That’s still one of the best love stories I’ve ever heard.

As for love marriages, there are elopements and stories of forbidden love and honor killings. Often though, there are families who are informed of a potential match and asked for their inputs and permission respectfully. Though we introduced each other to our parents, they were the ones who arranged the marriage, interviewing each other and us to see if we were a cultural fit, matching horoscopes, and so on.

It feels good having families sign off on a marriage. Some well-worn prejudices aside, I believe they’ve the inherent wisdom to know when something is predisposed to fail, and they’re not shy about sharing their opinions. In a culture where marriages are a family affair rather than something between two people, it makes sense to have everyone involved weigh in.

Firangs say, “Indian marriages are so beautiful.” I have to agree.

-A.