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.

Gold Standards

R,

Single TamBrahm girls are meant to always wear a gold chain, with a matching pair of bangles and earrings. Once they get married, the chain is replaced with a thali/mangalsutra and toe rings are added to the ‘must-wear’ list. Oddly enough, though a finger ring is presented at the marriage, this isn’t mandated daily wear… most practical when you consider the amount of food consumed by hand.

I’m sure these traditions are well-intentioned, and probably originated in a desire to give a girl a financial security net in the days before women had out-of-home careers (cue weepy movie sequences where women are seen selling away every last bit of gold).

Maybe there was a moral code of decency in the olden days, where stealing a woman’s marriage gold was equivalent to raping her in a temple. I doubt such qualms are felt any more. Which begs the questions - Aren’t you just asking to be robbed, going about in real gold? Is it feasible to be trotting about your body weight in gold in India’s blazing heat?

There’s nothing practical about our society’s attachment to the metal, especially to the sacred mangalsutra. Yes, it can hold safety pins very efficiently, but it’s a clunky huge chain that matches very few outfits worn in 2014. I started looking for it in pictures shared on social media and realized no one I know is photographed wearing one, other than at the wedding.

What are the new definitions of morality then? Is the decent thing  to wear it to religious and social functions, or to any occasion where you may run into a conservative relative, so that they can keep up their illusions about what married women should and should not wear? Or should you have the guts to disown it completely, and say so to those who enquire?

I don’t really have an answer, but I suspect we may be one of the last few Indian generations who’ll struggle with this. I can’t see us being too fussed if our children swear off gold altogether, and use the money saved on other things.

-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.

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.