It is a Truth Universally Acknowledged

That a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. Or that a single girl, in possession of a good fortune or broke, must be in want of a husband. Marriage is a very serious affair in my country. Now, I’m sure that it is quite the serious affair in yours too (this is me liking to think that people from all over the globe read my blog, but I digress) but in mine, especially when you’re 21 and almost a graduate, it’s pretty much supposed to become an end in life. You see, when I think of marriage I don’t feel all warm, sunny and photogenic. I feel like the fire in my backyard, the existence of which I’ve been wilfully denying, is finally on my backside and oh boy, does it burn.

I am at that point in life where a lot of my seniors from school are married and some are with kids while more than just a couple of my classmates are seriously contemplating the thought. In Kerala, where I come from, 21 is the standard age, as dictated by  21st century societal norms, when your parents are supposed to ‘start looking’. Everybody knows if there is a single girl whose parents are ‘looking’ because important NEWS like that spreads faster than common cold. The way I understand it, your entire life is supposed to be spent building up an image that will be found acceptable at this crucial moment when your parents finally open the gates to you. I’ve heard of prospective in-laws sending ‘private investigators’ to the college the girl in question attended, to find and dig up dirt if any. So if you’re thinking of putting up a Facebook profile picture with a boy in it, think twice. You might just kill your excellent chances at a narrow-minded mother-in law.

Now my parents know, understand and embrace my immaturity and have accepted that I am not quite done being a kid or educating myself but every single time I am at a family gathering, the following happens. Some distant relative will start a count of the number of my cousins who’re married and this discussion has lately been ending at the conclusion that my elder brother is ‘next in line.’ He is then exempted by the laws of unfair advantage to the male and everybody looks at me. This is usually followed by collective laughter and elbow- nudges (where I assume I’m supposed to join in, exhibit a degree of reluctant shy-ness, pretend I’m in a Bollywood blockbuster and break into a song about my dream man). Disappointed by my apparent lack of enthusiasm, an aunt will declare that I be ‘married off’ by 23. I will guffaw (because ‘laugh’ does not quite cut it). To this, a very forward cousin will very gallantly stand up for me and say that 23 is too early for ‘today’s time’ and that I shouldn’t think of it till I’m 25 but no later because apparently you’re senile the day you turn 26. I will protest vehemently and say the word ‘career’ and the older adults will promptly gang up and try to drag me away from the materialistic path I’m on because there are more important things in life like getting married to the near-stranger they approve of. Finally, the oldest adult in the room will declare how he/she wants to take part in my wedding before he breathes his/her last and then everybody nods and disperses because that just settles it, doesn’t it?

Now, that right there is standard conversation at any family event. It gets worse if you happen to be wearing a saree. I’m terrified to the point that if I’m wearing a saree and an adult comes up to me to say ‘Look how grown up and pretty you’ve become!’, I immediately look around for that single son or a concealed phone camera. Nobody gives compliments like that to a single girl at a Malayali wedding without having a match in mind. I am especially wary of people asking me to pose for pictures alone because one, my arms look fat if I can’t hide them behind the other people in the picture and two, because I’m pretty sure there is an online community of Malayali moms who love their sons where the pictures are going to be put up and reviewed. My own mother asked me to stand still for a picture the other day and I ran away screaming.

So you see, marriage is  like a humongous boulder hanging over my head on a loose thread right now. Nobody, in my part of the country atleast, seems to understand why anyone would want to stay unmarried after they’ve graduated. I mean I’m sure there’s that accepted thing where you can hunt for jobs in pairs. Travel the world? Even better if you have a husband to go with you! Money? Well money comes and goes and we’ll get you married into a ‘good’ family so there’s no worry there. Higher education? I’m sure your in-laws won’t have a problem with that. What if I’m not even close to ready? You don’t have to be. It’ll be like having a permanent friend you’re expected to sleep with and make babies with that’s all. What if I simply want some time to myself? *scoffs* That’s a western concept. In our culture, everybody gets married and has children before they figure out what they want in life. Also, your biological clock is ticking and you’ll birth alien babies after 30.

We once told our Spanish teacher (who’s only 22 and touring India alone now, by the way) about the above scenario in response to him laughing at Indians constantly asking him if he’s married or engaged. He opened his eyes wide and suggested we run away. As much as I like to believe that my parents are the coolest people on dear Earth, I can’t begin to imagine the pressure they’re under because they have a single daughter in the house. Good humour can only beat so many aunties at a time. Add to this my general irrational fear of marriage and near-complete ignorance of the inner workings of the opposite sex and I am pretty much living my personal nightmare. Every social event I go, I feel like I’m a moving exhibit presented for everyone’s appreciation and attention. Demons and dark rooms? Bah! Malayali aunties with single sons or nephews? Now that is something to be terrified of. So you see, marriage is quite the serious affair in our country. It is more a societal norm than an individual choice. While there has been quite the relaxation in the ‘Who you can marry’ laws (British guys still don’t qualify sadly enough), there doesn’t seem to be any leniency whatsoever in the ‘When you should marry’ clauses. And so I hope you’ll excuse me now as I wind up this post and figure out my migration to Timbuktu.