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.

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.

To settle or not to settle?

R,

Indian girls grow up hearing about the princely groom who’ll ride up on a white horse and whisk them away to live happily ever after. While the horse will always be white, the groom could be any one of a thousand people whom she meets while her parents help her find the perfect groom. I think it’s only fair that she at least expect him to be a prince and not some random stable boy masquerading with a crown on his head.

Do you remember my friend, T? Her parents first started ‘looking’ for a groom when she was 21. I can barely remember what I was like at 21, but I’m confident I would’ve been too immature to know for sure what I wanted in a marriage. It’s always easier to find a reason to say ‘no’ to a match, than to feel confident about saying ‘yes.’ So T said, “No,” “No,” “No,” and then “No,” again, to sundry bumpkins and hopefuls.

It would’ve been hard to find a good match for her any way, she’s so smart, and ruthlessly funny. I’m not saying she’s egoistic to the point of no compromise (although I certainly was at 21), but she’s far from being the demure doormat that’s ‘perfect marriage material’ for most Indian grooms. They’d likely still have put up with it anyway, she’s gorgeous! She, on the other hand, didn’t see what she’d get out of marrying someone who was significantly less sharp than she was.

Glossing over several painful years of futile matchmaking, she’s 28 now. Cue gasps of horror from the Indian aunties and uncles, neighbors and passers-by. Is it just me, or does India have a collective biological clock that acts like a bomb counter ticking down as females remain unmarried past 25? 

I lost touch with T, but every now and then, we chat about the latest prospects thrown her way. She told me about a blatantly gay groom, whom her mother introduced, with the sage advice, “Marriage cures everything.” While T isn’t ready to compromise on that variable yet, she confessed that the longer she held off on marriage, the less rigid her expectations became. As she grew older, she no longer got the ‘cream of the crop,’ such as it was. This means a motley set of widowers, unemployed men, and outrageous dowry demands are thrust her way. 

“At this point, if I meet someone whom I turned down at 21, I’ll probably be mellow enough to think they’re perfect marriage material!”

It was funny, but also sad – what’s the point of wanting because you didn’t want to settle, if you’re eventually browbeaten into settling? It’s impossible for me to judge, because we got engaged at 23 (cradle snatcher!) – how am I supposed to know what they’re going through, and whether it’ll be worth it? Sure, we all have these grand notions of romance, but marriage is essentially about saying, “Ok, I’ve seen all there is to see and I’ll take this one.” 

So for those of my friends who are more pragmatic than romantic, maybe it makes sense after all. As for the rest, I hope they hold out until they get the fairy tale ending they want.

A.

Pride & Prejudice: the Indian retelling

R,

It is a truth, universally acknowledged, that an Indian woman with an ounce of common sense, has many an arranged marriage horror story to narrate.

I realize I’m not the most objective judge, but I think you’ll agree with me when I say my single friends seem no less marriageable than the brides described in newspaper personals. I’m guessing those brides are the golden standard if their parents feel secure enough about their virtues to trumpet them about town. 

The ideal debutante is almost always described as pleasant. My friends are certainly pleasant to me, and to anyone else they deem worthy of it. I don’t expect them to suffer a fool for a husband just to prove how placid they can be. They’re not exactly auditioning for diplomatic positions, after all. 

How can I tell the prospective groom’s a fool? Well, who else comes in demanding that his bride be ‘ambitious,’ but earn less than him; ‘outgoing,’ but give up any and all her friends after marriage? I’ve heard the whole gamut of stories, from the groom who wanted someone to look after his ill mother (may I suggest a caregiver), to the one who asked if they could live together for a couple of years before he committed to a marriage (yes, but that’s not how marriages are arranged!). My friends have been told they're too egoistic for the average Indian male, and need to set their standards more realistically. 

Those are ridiculous stories, the kind you can regale your grandchildren with, assuming you ever do find a sensible, smart guy. Then there are the ones you don’t want to tell anyone. It’s far too common to hear of men who mysteriously discern that you’re ‘modern,’ and try to make a physical move at the first meeting. And their mothers who suggest it’s the girl’s fault for leading him on. With what, a Bharat Matrimony profile? 

The wisdom of Indian elders suggests that arranged marriages are ‘safer’ and ‘more decent’ than love marriages. I beg to disagree, based on the scenario above. I also don’t see how imagining your life with a whole new stranger every three days is more morally sound than imagining your life with one person, whom you know and love.

I’m not saying arranged marriages don’t work, my parents’ marriage inspired me to want an arranged marriage. Stories like these make me thankful that I didn’t have to get increasingly more frustrated with the process by trying it out for myself.

A.

Honesty is the best policy… probably

R,

You’re very vocal about your dissatisfaction with ‘Something Borrowed’ being on TV every alternate weekend (personally, I think you should just be grateful we're not subjected to yet another Keeping up with the Kardashians marathon). I have nothing to say in defense of the movie, or even the book. The 5.9 on IMDB seems about right. There’s this other book by the same author, Emily Giffin, which I was reading. It’s called ‘Love the One You’re With,’ and it’s about a woman who bumps into her ex, accidentally, and then on purpose.

She was clearly asking for trouble, but let’s forget about her, and think about people whose fates don't lie in the hands of an author. Emily Post would probably advise the well-bred to steer clear of situations where they could run into former paramours, and I quite agree. However, what does etiquette demand if your paths do happen to cross? Are you meant to react at all? Treat the ex the way you’d expect your partner to, if the situation were reversed?

I know some people who say they won’t tell their future spouses about past relationships. I see their point. I’ve seen arranged marriages, where you can tell that the prospective bride/groom is great, but just won’t get why their spouse bothered seeing someone in the past, or why they’d bring it up. It’s not the done thing in India to talk about uncomfortable things, after all. It’s definitely a moral gray area though – if you didn’t do anything you’re ashamed of, why feel the need to hide it? Consider the microscopic mind space the former flame takes up in your average day, versus the mega explosion it could trigger if the topic’s brought up, and the reasoning's self evident.

I’m an advocate of selective omission. I define this as telling people what they’re capable of processing (there’s no need to tell my grandmother about what my friend got up to at the club, for instance). With India’s varying moral scales, that’s just self-preservation, assuming you want to retain your sanity. 

My only concern with the arranged-marriage-selective-disclosure scenario is that it could set the precedent until you’ve completely reinvented yourself for your spouse. A lifetime is a long time to be someone else convincingly. I can’t imagine the fireworks that would fly if news of a former flame slipped out after two years of marriage, instead of on the second date pre-marriage.

As you know by now, and probably regret at times, there are absolutely no omissions when it comes to me and you. With the amount of sleep talking I do, you’ll probably learn all my deep, dark secrets anyway.

- A.