Wait Till SHE Comes...

“I’m not eating this…” I exclaimed to Mom while pointing to the serving of a particular vegetable on my dinner plate with the spoon.

In fact, my demeanor wouldn’t have been much different had I been turning away a half decomposed dead lizard with a stick.

With all due respects to all the vegetarians out there, but there are more fingers in my right hand than the number of vegetables I find palatable. And the present scenario was no exception.

I had barely made my point regarding my dislike towards the sample of food when Mom declared – “Just wait till she comes…”.

Hearing that sentence has always made me wince. And it made me wince again. For those of my new readers who still haven’t understood what that sentence means, well, it is actually a warning used on me with reference to my better half who is still missing from the scheme of things in my life.

Now, there are a lot of things that people dislike. Each one of us has a lot of personal preferences regarding small things of everyday life. And sometimes people expect us to change our habits or preferences according to their liking.

But coming to the logic (or the lack of it) in the ‘threat’ that I’m often subjected to, why in the world would I want to marry someone whose sole purpose in life seems to be to make me do all the things I dislike.

Be it my finicky food habits, my preferences in clothes, my love for sleep, the (dis)arrangement of stuff in my room, my dislike towards shopping or even my resentment towards tea, I’m repeatedly warned to mend my ways before ‘she’ arrives.

In other words I’m always in the process of being groomed to make me suitable enough for marriage.

And then they expect me to show some interest in getting married ! Really…

I mean you can’t just scare a kid by telling him ghost-stories about a dark room and then push him to go and sleep in that very room. Doesn’t work.

What I really don’t get is that why would anyone want to be with someone for life who wants to change their likes and dislikes to their own liking. The other day I was reading Red Handed’s post on how girls in India are continuously under a grooming process for their life in the husband’s home after marriage. As if a girl should have no personal identity of her own and shouldn’t have any personal preferences in how she wants to lead her life.

But it is not too different for unmarried males as well who are under the continuous pressure to act, dress, eat, sleep (and shop) in certain ways that would attract a prospective bride.

And then they are continuously warned that marriage is actually the turning point in their lives after which all the ‘faults’ in their personality will be checked and corrected by none other than their future wife.

Why would I ever want to change anything about my life partner ? She may have her own preferences in food, clothing and lifestyle in general. Sounds silly to change the qualities and hence the identity of the very person you like. The same logic applies the other way round.

But still, I’m continuously subjected to those threatening words – “Wait till she comes…” !

If only they knew that she is not bothered about changing any of those things about me… :-)

My Lacertilian Adventures...

Summer is here !

Though different people have different preferences for their favorite season, my Mom isn’t particularly fond of summers. That is so, because the scorching heat of the sun drives everyone inside their homes, while the same heat seems to drive lizards out of theirs. During various hours of the day my Mom can be found jumping, screaming and running around at the sight of a lizard while I can be found shooing off lizards of all sizes out of the house for her.

In spite of my repeated attempts Mom refuses to accept my views regarding lizards being sober and harmless creatures. On the contrary, she warns me to have me sent to a mental asylum whenever she notices me trying to train and befriend the lizard which lives below our refrigerator.

My views about lizards, though appearing to be eccentric, are not entirely hypothetical. I found out the usefulness which a lizard can be capable of during my Medical college days.

There used to be a famous annual fair in the city for an entire month or so that used to start in the evening and carried on all through the night. During one of our visits to the fair I found a guy on a pavement, selling fake replicas of animals. I was specially impressed by the replicas of lizards he had. So, finally giving in to my temptation, I bought a fake lizard which looked completely alive until one actually touched it. (which wasn’t something anyone would do if it really looked real ! :P )

I didn’t actually know what to do with it until two days later I saw a probable use. One of my batch mates, who lived in our hostel, was a very naughty fellow. He was short, stout, extremely fair complexioned and a fashion-freak. But he had a huge weakness. Lizards ! The mere mention of the word could make his spine tingle.

Everyday, he used to come up to my room and knock at the door. He used to do that mostly at hours when I was asleep. While I used to groggily open the door, he would quickly hit the electricity switches beside the door, shut the fan, switch on the lights, grin mischievously, and run away laughing.

So, this very day, while I was inspecting the brilliant replica of the fake lizard I had bought, I got an idea. I placed the lizard strategically on the electricity board so that it just spanned the entire row of switches. As expected, the naughty guy came up to my room expecting me to be asleep while I was wide awake waiting for him.

I opened the door a bit more than usual after the knock, and saw his grinning face as he looked at me while hitting the switches. In an instant, he felt something was different. As he looked at the electric board and removed his hand, the strategically placed lizard fell down just as a real lizard would have fallen.

I have heard about how people pale when they are scared. And I never thought a person of such fair complexion could pale any further. But pale he did. And that too in a fraction of milliseconds. I wonder if you can imagine a person trying to swim, kick a football and do a high-jump back-flip all together. But I was treated to witness such a spectacle as he did all that and maybe even more which was beyond my comprehension. And as soon as he returned to the ground, he made a dash for somewhere as far possible as could be from my room. And for the next fifteen minutes or so, the inhabitants of our hostel heard the most spine-chilling shrieks till this guy found a way to make a dash for the open spaces outside the building.

I had become a big fan of my ‘pet lizard’. :-)

A few days later, our small batch of fifteen students was trying to survive a class of evening clinical teaching by a junior resident who seemed to have found the truth about ‘Irritable Bowel Syndrome’ and was bent on imparting the divine knowledge on to us highly uninterested disciples.

I was seated in the second row of chairs while the first row was occupied by most of the girls. The resident was seated opposite to us with just a small table separating us. I thought it a good idea to bring some life into the proceedings when I saw my immediate neighbor borrowing a pen from the girl sitting right in front of me. This caught my attention as I was particularly fond of her. :D

I noticed that she had one of those small purse-like pencil cases in which she used to keep about fifty assorted pens and pencils. As she had handed the entire case to my neighbor to pick out his choice of pen, I quickly reached into my bag for my ‘pet’. I quickly took the case from him, and as he watched on, I strategically placed the fake lizard below a stack of a dozen pens. I zipped it up and told him to return it back to her.

After a few minutes, I asked my neighbor to ask her for a particular colored pen again. And as per my expectations, she decided to find it herself this time. I watched intently as she unzipped the case and dug in to find the desired pen. The only sounds in the room were the incomprehensible blabber of the resident, the ticking of the clock and the heart-beat of my neighbor.

It is strange how sometimes we never learn from experience. Just a couple of days back I had seen a guy freak out as never before, but here I was again, trying something similar in much dangerous circumstances.

And the next moment, there was a loud gasp. I wonder if you have ever heard a gasp. But everyone there did hear it. Which was instantly followed by a colored assortment of pens and pencils flying high up in the air. A couple of them landed on the resident’s head making him shut his mouth and bring an end to the ‘discourse’. While my neighbor got the desired colored pen which actually fell onto his lap.

The resident took off his spectacles and glared at her for an explanation as she tried to catch her breath and told him about a lizard in her pencil-case. The resident merely commented on her brisk reflexes and her ultra-sensitivity towards members of the reptile family and finally announced the dismissal of the class.

As soon as the initial shock subsided, the girl looked back to have my neighbor for an early dinner through her eyes. But he still had the courage to point a shaking finger towards me. The case was immediately settled as she realized that the devil mind behind the adventure was none other than mine, and she turned away and started to collect the contents of her pencil-case.

Though she knew it was a fake lizard, but no one else in the room could find out as I had noticed the lizard falling just beside her chair and which was now safely hidden below my shoe.

Though I never brought this up with her after that, but I take this opportunity here to say a little sorry with a smile. :-)

Ohhh… I just heard Mom scream and call out for me. So I’m off to lizard-shooing business again. Now… where’s the broom gone…….

(Image courtesy : Google Images)

Almost Engaged... !!!

I wonder if you ever found yourself in a situation which, while being funny, left you pretty much shaken and gasping for air. Well, I managed to find myself in one such situation last weekend.

As my younger brother was visiting home after six months we all were really excited. And to top it, his short trip to home included his birthday as well. So, Mom, Dad and me decided to throw a small party on the occasion.

Having decided to keep it a small affair, we invited only close friends and family. And going as per past experiences, we decided not to divulge the reason of the party to the guests in fear of people going overboard with formalities and gifts. (which eventually turned out to be a big mistake !)

So, on the given date and time, my brother, my cousin and I reached the party hall before the scheduled time to check if everything was in order. Other family members followed us in due course of time. We were sitting there waiting for the guests when I saw my eccentric friend trying to find his way in through the glass door. Once he discovered which way the door opened, he came straight towards us with a strange expression on his face.

“OK. So it really is Chicks’ birthday… ?!?!”

“Huh ???” I questioned him.

“When I asked about the way to the hall, the guy at the reception told me about the birthday party. Darn… I thought it was your engagement !!!” He complained.

We all burst into laughter while the expression on his face changed to a more disappointed look. I introduced him to some snacks which took his mind off his silly thoughts and brought an expectant smile on his face.

Soon, people started trickling in and before long, the hall was buzzing with life. I was busy with some animated discussion with my friend when I sensed a hand on my shoulder. I turned to find my uncle (one of Mom’s cousins) standing with a strange smile on his face. I touched his feet while he started…

“Many congratulations ! I have been waiting for this day since so long…” He exclaimed.

“No no. Uncle, it’s Chicks’…” I tried to intervene.

“I’m always right. I told your mom that you’ll be getting married within a year. Ask her if you don’t believe me.” His smile had turned to a big grin.

“You what… ??” I suddenly realized what he was getting on to.

“Uncle, it’s Chicks’ birthday. Not my engagement !” I informed him trying to force a smile on my face.

His mouth was still open when he got this bit of news from me. It remained open except that no more sound emerged from it now.

“There he is.” I pointed out to my brother and turned towards my friends, saving him (and probably myself) any more embarrassment.

I was still thinking about the funny side of it when I saw my aunt (my Dad’s elder cousin) and her husband entering the hall. I quickly rushed to them and had barely touched their feet when she asked…

“Where’s the girl ?”

“What girl ???” I snapped back.

“You’ll never change. I’ll have to ask your mom.” She suddenly spotted my Mom and walked away to meet her ignoring me as if I was the last person on the earth she wanted to talk to at the moment. I now wondered whether it would have been better to let everyone know about the occasion of the party.

I was still watching my aunt’s changing expressions as she talked to my Mom when someone poked me from the back. I turned around to find my youngest aunt with her husband. She quickly stuffed an envelope in my pocket and whispered…

“You didn’t tell me ha… ??? Who’s the lucky girl ??? She’s your batch mate, right ??? See, I always knew. However hard you try to hide, you cannot get away !!!”

And stepping back she then said. “Sorry I got late. They weren’t ready to let me leave the office until I told them it’s my nephew’s engagement. So here I am !!!”

I could feel myself fuming from the ears. And I’m pretty much sure that the changing colors of my face would have given me away if the hall was a bit brightly lit. As the crowd kept getting bigger, every third person would walk up to me to congratulate me and bless the ‘girl’… whoever she was. And I was getting paranoid by the passing second.

It had got to such a point where my thinking brain started getting suspicious. Once long ago, I had read in a mystery novel, where a secret agent is taught by his tutors that there is no such thing as co-incidence. If you keep bumping into the same person or same situations, better run for your life. I now assessed the possibilities of a conspiracy. As I had already made it clear in the past to all of my extended family that they would be left with an absconding boy if they ever tried to force me into an arranged marriage, this would be an ideal trap by them to nail me.

And by now I was concentrating on each group of guests that entered. I had already assessed the best routes of escape if I spotted a bunch of strangers entering the hall accompanying a young girl. My senses were on high alert, ready for action at the required moment.

My already tensed mind was suddenly disturbed by my Dad’s booming voice which announced to the guests the occasion of my brother’s birthday and invited them to the cake-cutting ceremony. On a reflex, I sighed a sigh of relief and wiped the sweat on my forehead as I went to find a glass of chilled water.

But on my way I was stopped by another eccentric friend of mine who had just entered the hall with his wife holding a big bunch of roses. With his usual big grin he shook me by the hand and asked…

“Where’s Bhabhi ?”

“Oh you know how hot it is today… ?” I said in a serious tone.

“Yes. So hot.” He agreed.

“You see that swimming pool down there… ?” I pointed to the north-east direction.

“Yes.” He replied straining his neck towards the direction I had pointed.

“Well… she was feeling too hot. So she decided to cool off in the pool till all the guests have arrived.” I said and moved on.

(Image courtesy : Google Images)

A Mother India without Daughters...

I had drafted this post a while ago, but somehow I delayed it as I felt I still had some fine points to add to it. And by some strange co-incidence, I saw the first episode of the show ‘Satyamev Jayate’ before publishing this. So it made it easier for me to add the points which I had left earlier in writing this piece.

While reading the latest anthropological data of India (for my upcoming exams), I wasn’t at all surprised to find the child sex ratio dip further to a mere 914. Ok, the gender of a baby is based on a 50-50 probability. But such a vast gender difference cannot be attributed to probability alone. And as we all know, female feticide is the main reason for this appalling sex ratio.  

Thinking of it, I wondered why do people even consider such a crime for the want of a male child. And after going through my observations of people and some absolutely ridiculous mindsets throughout my life, I could list the following reasons for the prevalence of female feticide in India.

1. The want of a male child to continue the so called ‘vansh’.
2. A male child would ensure more earning hands in a family with low economic background.
3. A male child would ensure that the parents are cared for in their old age.
4. A female child would require saving money all life for her wedding. That includes the dowry to be given along with.
5. Even before the marriage of a female child and forever after that, her parents and family would have to live a life of humbleness and humility in relation to her husband and his family.
6. A female child would require taking extra care regarding the family’s honor and respect.
7. Ladies under the influence of some unsaid comparative competition between themselves take pride in their daughter-in-laws having a male child.
8. Women themselves want a male child under some delusion of it being a sort of redemption in the eyes of their husband and in-laws.

Here is what I feel about each of the above points I mentioned.

1. Pedigree. Do people actually know about their ancestors four or five generations ago ? If they don’t even know whose family tree they are so keen to expand, what’s this big issue about the family lineage ?
2. Yes, that does hold true for some (if not most) underprivileged families. But I’ve seen it usually backfiring. I can recount at least half a dozen cases which have two or more male children (who were obviously expected to help in the family’s earnings), but still, they are the ones who do nothing while the girl children of the family are burdened with the family’s earnings. If that’s the case, then shouldn’t it be the other way round ? Having more girl children to increase the family’s earnings. But either way, it’s simply ridiculous.
3. Does a son always ensure taking care of his old parents when they get old ? Don’t we find sons at war to grab the parents’ property instead of taking care of them ? Not that it is a generalization, but how can it be a surety and a reason to want a male son too ?
4. That is one of the main reasons for female feticide in most of India. As soon as a girl is born, her parents start worrying about saving money for her wedding. And if she is the second or third girl child, then the very aim of the parents’ life becomes that to marry off their daughters. And the dowry included actually seems to be the price they have to pay to marry off their daughters. That’s why I’ve always felt that the very concept of a wedding should be discarded. A wedding is the ultimate ghastly event (for a girl’s parents/family) for which the girl suffers all her life before and then all her life after.  
5. Something utterly preposterous I’ve seen and experienced is that how the girl’s parents and family treat her husband and in-laws with folded hands and bowed heads as if they were something divine just because they are their daughter’s in-laws. I’ve seen fathers of girls who were getting married tolerate absolute rogue-ness from the groom’s family before, during and after the wedding. What advantage exactly does being a groom or his family have over that of the bride ? Why should only the girl’s family bear all the expenses of the wedding and not divide it equally between the two families ? Why does a girl’s family feel helpless even after the girl being subjected to torture after her marriage ? What exactly is this outrageous mindset so strongly built in Indian families ?
6. A girl’s family is always tensed about their family’s ‘honor’ that is idiotically related to their girl and her life. In India, a family’s so called honor and respect is ascertained by how their daughter lives her life. What she does. How she dresses. Whom she befriends. Where she goes. But the same family wouldn’t have a care in the world if they have a son. No matter what he does in his life, it never concerns the honor of the family.
7. It is not just the males of the society, but even the highly educated females who go berserk for want of a male child in their family. A lady would want the extreme love and respect from her son, but would never allow him to do the same with his wife. Recently, in my very close acquaintance, I came to know of a case where a reputed lady doctor forced her son to torture his newly wed wife to unbelievable extent so that she wouldn’t be able to pursue her higher education. I guess such females want a son so that in future they are in a position to torture another helpless female through their sadist fantasies.
8. This one, though sounding absolutely ghastly, is actually true in most cases where young women yearn for a male child in order to get into the good books of their husband and in-laws. Being a female themselves, they don’t even think about the fact that they are ridiculing their own self. Women who disown their daughters just because they wanted a son should not have the right to motherhood. One can’t abuse motherhood once and enjoy it another time.

And I wouldn’t forget the role of doctors in carrying out such a ghastly crime as female feticide. Considering that most gynaecologists in India are females, it is absolutely shocking how females can themselves be so heartless while murdering unborn females. Being from the Med field myself, I hope that such criminals be brought to justice soon.

We all are so worked up against corruption in India recently. But is monetary corruption all that we can care for ? Is anyone concerned about this act of corruption at the level of one’s soul that has been happening since long and still carrying on freely ? Would we come forward together in a war against female feticide just as people did in the war against corruption ?

I have my doubts…

(Image courtesy : Google Images)

Lessons...

Off late, I had been rather busy in studies and certain complexities of life. In other words, the brain was too busy thinking whenever it wasn’t busy memorizing facts from books.

The exam season is on and I was to write an examination in Delhi in the first week of January. As per my experiences about Indian Railways in the past years, I decided to board an overnight train to Delhi. It has become a rule for the train services to be badly hit due to the winter-fog every year. So I thought it was better to spend the greater part of my journey sleeping rather than tiring myself out throughout the day sitting in a ‘day’ train.

Strangely enough, the weather seemed to change for the good for two to three days before my planned journey. There was no sign of any fog, much to my relief. And it remained so until two hours before the departure. Just as my luck would have it, the fog came down in heaps as the clock struck nine. My train was scheduled to depart at 11:45.

As usual, Dad had offered to drop me off at the railway station. But now with the ever increasing fog, we had to leave more than an hour earlier than usual because of the near-absent visibility. To add to my uneasiness, Mom declared that she would accompany us as well. I tried to reason with her about the intensity of cold and her vulnerability to it. But she was having none of it. So, we left home a good two hours before time.

Contrary to our guesses, we reached the station rather early in spite of the fog. I told the parents to leave immediately for home as I took out my luggage from our car. The train was already on the platform and I told them that I would make myself comfortable inside the train right away. Mom reminded me to call on phone as soon as the train moved from the station. I hastily yes-yessed and once again told them to leave.

Having said the customary good-byes, I entered the station, found my coach and got to my reserved berth. It was still about an hour to departure and so, the train was still pretty much empty. As I fixed my luggage at their proper places, I noticed an elderly couple sitting opposite to my berth. I noticed that they had already fixed their luggage and were sitting in complete silence facing each other on their berths.

Having sat down, I decided to make use of the time and started with a book I had brought along for my exam. People moved around the aisle, searching for their berths and handling their luggage. But this elderly couple sat there in silence without so much as raising an eyebrow. I sensed a strange calmness about them that felt rather abnormal.

I was well into the twentieth page of my book when my phone started to ring. It was Mom.

Mom : Hello.
Me : Ya.
Mom : You settled ?
Me : Ya.
Mom : Is it warm enough there ?
Me : Ya…
Mom : So, should we go ?
Me : ??!!?? You people are still here ??? I told you to leave !!! Huh…
Mom : Ok. We are going. Don’t forget to call when the train departs.
Me : Huh... I said yes. I’ll call. Now go !

I closed the book. It doesn’t help much to read when I’m irritated. Why did they have to wait when I assured them I would be ok ? They always treat me as a kid.

My thoughts were disturbed by a couple of porters who came up with huge suitcases and started to push them in beneath the berths across. The elderly man got up to make way and sat down besides his wife. A young man came up and checked the luggage, paid the porters and with a smile, requested the elderly man to look after the luggage for a while. The elderly man just nodded his head while this guy went out. So, I resumed with reading my book once again.

It was time for departure when I saw the young guy standing outside the aisle door with a young woman (who was probably his wife). Suddenly, the train started to pull away as I saw them waving to people out on the platform. And I didn’t miss noticing how the woman suddenly broke down into tears even as the young guy tried to console her.

As the train left the station, the young couple came inside and sat on the berth opposite to the older couple. The young woman was still wiping her tears amidst soft hiccups.

Suddenly, for the first time since I entered the coach, I heard the old lady speak in a really calm voice.

Old Lady : Were your relatives here to see you off ?
Young Woman : Yes. Mine and my husband’s parents and his sister.
Old Lady : Are you people going abroad ?
Young Woman : Yes. We are going to Australia. My husband works there.
Old Lady : I know it’s hard to say good bye.
The young woman managed a wry smile.
Old Lady : It’s ok. You should relax now.
Young Woman : I know. But it’s hard. You won’t understand.

There was a pause. A rather awkward one. And I was closely observing the people and their conversation.

Suddenly the elderly man spoke up in a voice as calm as his wife.

“We understand.”

The old lady resumed in her calm self. I could see a faint smile on her face that was probably there since the beginning, but it felt more pronounced now.

“Our son was once posted in Australia too. For six months. After that he moved to New Zealand. It’s a nice country he told us. But unfortunately his work didn’t let him stay there for long.”

“I see.” The young woman said wiping off the final traces of wetness from her eyes.

“Yes.” Continued the old lady. “He was then moved to the UK. They made him move all around Europe. In fact, they made him move almost everywhere around the world.”

“So you people must be habitual of this by now. No ? Where does your son work ?” The young woman asked.

It was once again the elderly man who spoke. And he spoke with an air of even greater calmness than his wife.

“He worked at a high post in the richest oil company in the world. But we lost him in the Kenya air crash in 2007. He was 25. Our only child.”

There was a weird but eerie silence just as the man uttered those words. Though not being a part of the conversation, I was still equally, if not more stunned than the young couple. The old lady continued.

“He used to come home every two or three months. His job required him to travel so much. We had gotten to, just like you said, being habitual of his arrivals and departures. And at times he used to say he was tired of traveling. And that he won’t go anywhere now. But every time he was off the very next day.”

“And he was coming home that time when the accident happened. That morning I had an altercation with him. He was complaining why I get so worked up every time he moves. That was the first time when I told him not to call me before leaving. I had got angry on him…”

That was when I saw the elderly man press at the hand of his wife. I felt that he knew he had to stop her. Though she still had that strange calmness about her face which also had that hint of a smile, maybe her husband knew too well where she was prone to break down.

I was still trying to look into my book. But it was all too hazy. And suddenly, I remembered something. I got up to move towards the door of the coach. On the way, I saw tears rolling freely from the young woman’s eyes now.

I took a deep breath as I came out of the door. The sudden chill outside the compartment made me gasp. I took out my phone from my pocket and dialed the number.

Mom : Hello. Bhaiya,… the train left ?
Me : Hmm.
Mom : Is it warm enough inside ?
Me : Hmm.
Mom : Don’t keep awake for long and don’t keep reading in that dim light.
Me : Hmm.
Mom : And don’t forget to call when you reach.
Me : Yes. I won’t forget.

(Image courtesy : Google Images)

Bride & The Prejudiced...

A very familiar scene:

Boy and girl, a very committed couple since long, having a candle-light dinner, with some soft mushy music playing in the background…(obviously!) are lost deep in each other’s eyes, when…

Boy: My princess…
Girl: My angel…
Boy: I love you…
Girl: I love you too…
Boy: Will you marry me?
Girl: Ohhh… YES!!
Boy: Great. Then let’s get you converted…
Girl: …… ??!??!!??!!

Well, maybe it’s not usually as bluntly put as that. Or maybe it is. I don’t really know. But it certainly is put sooner or later before a person decides to marry someone he (or sometimes… she) loves, who belongs to a different religion/caste/community.

And all this while people tell me that the new, young and developing India has moved into the twenty-first century!! (Really?)

Which makes me wonder that why would someone want to change a person he loves! People have simply no issues when they ‘supposedly’ decide to fall in love. No issues still while going around the town dating that someone special. And no issues still more while flaunting their ‘committed’ status on Facebook, Orkut and what not.

But when it comes to actually marrying a person from a different background, issues start appearing from absolutely nowhere. Then is the time when age-old and absolutely pathetic reasons fly out from left, right and center.

We have such different customs and traditions…
My family won’t accept her without getting converted…
We have to answer the society…

Do we ever realize the heights of ridiculous prejudices regarding different communities in our own country, though we see it all around us, everyday of our lives?

My granny’s cousin was so prejudiced against certain communities that she wouldn’t even let such a person anywhere near her kitchen, let alone eat the food prepared by him/her. Unfortunately, she passed away before I could put some of my questions for her to answer.

For any such person prejudiced against other communities, who happily eats food cooked by someone he or she approves, I’d just like to take things back to their origin. Does such a prejudiced person actually know…

• the caste/community/religion of the person who sowed seeds in the farms?
• the caste/community/religion of the person who carried the grain to the crusher?
• the caste/community/religion of the person who crushed the grain into flour?
• the caste/community/religion of the person who packed the flour?
• the caste/community/religion of the person who distributed it to the market?

The answer is a big NO!

We all travel in buses, trains and planes. Do we ever bother to ascertain the caste, community or religion of the driver or pilot? Someone in whose hands we literally put our lives…!!!

Does a person stop sending his/her child to the school because one of the teachers is from a different community? Does a person refuse to do business with someone of the other religion? Does a critically ill patient first ascertain the caste of the doctor on duty?

NO! Because those are our needs! In times of need, we let all our prejudices go into hibernation. Only to appear with renewed vigor when it’s the time for marriage!

And most often, it is the girl who is expected to ‘convert’ if she decides to marry into a different community (though there are many examples otherwise too… as per my own experiences!).

And then I again wonder why such ‘wisdom’ dawns on the individual not once before the talk of marriage. It baffles my mind no end. Are people in a state of illusion or delusion while they are falling in love? Do they imagine their love-interest to be of their own communities? Do they forget all such reasons of ‘wisdom’ while they date?

Why would a sane person try to change anything about someone he or she so dearly loves?

I have actually known people who broke-off their ‘relationship’ (that’s such a big misnomer!) just because the other didn’t agree to convert into their community. I seriously ought to be informed if there’s anything more ridiculous than that.

I would simply ask such people, that “while falling in love with that special person, did you ask your family’s, community’s or the society’s permission? (And did they allow you?) And even if your partner accepts your preposterous demands, wouldn’t you be changing the very identity of the person?

What would be better?

1. A bride who doesn’t convert, but cares for everyone and follows all the customs of her new family as they should be followed.
OR
2. A bride who converts (or is from the same community) but cares for nothing.

We, in India, are brought up on a daily dose of some outrageous prejudices regarding different communities. Though in unspoken terms, we are also taught to forget all such prejudices in times of materialistic needs. But as it is said, ‘Love is blind’, one becomes blind while falling in love.

I so dearly wish that love was deaf as well, so that all such ridiculous talks from our society wouldn’t affect lovers' ears…

Picture Credits: Google Images

Shaadi ke Side Effects....

It was just the other day, while reading Pooja’s ‘Reflections on Indian Marriage’ (the featured post on the latest issue of ‘Kadzilla’s Lounge’), that I had to log off and rush in search for some fresh air. Those who know me very closely would vouch for the fact that I don’t just grab at my throat, cry out for help and make a dash for the open spaces unless I’m seriously stirred.

And that was what the problem was with the piece of text I had just read. It was superbly written on a topic that touches a rather sensitive spot in my mind. The feeling of Déjà vu quickly took me to the very first day (rather night) of 2010 AD.

We had just finished partying for the Birthday of our close friend. (I had always found it interesting how he chose ‘New Year’s Day’ to sneak into the world to torment us all for the rest of our lives with his dumb questions, until I was enlightened by the fact that since he had been born and brought up in some remote village, no one actually remembered his real birth date. So they decided what better a day to choose for the same than 1st of January !)

So I was just dropping him home that foggy night when he asked me to pop in for a few minutes as usual. We were greeted by his elder brother at the door and were lead in through the side door into the house that looked asleep already. But to my surprise, we were led to his brother’s bedroom, the contents of which looked as follows…

1. His dad sitting right in the middle of the large bed, with an assortment of packets and papers around him, deep in some pensive thought.
2. His mom on a chair by the bed, with her face supported by a hand, looking at his dad who was deep in some pensive thought.
3. His ‘bhabhi’ (elder brother’s wife) sitting at the edge of the bed, fidgeting with what looked like the remote of the television.
4. His four year old nephew, who was sitting beside his dad (my friend’s dad, not his own dad as his dad, (the nephew’s dad, not my friend’s dad who was sitting on the bed in a pensive mood) was standing with us), and was trying to load his toy gun.

At the site of us entering the room, the various reactions I got were as follows…

1. His dad looked up, nodded at me, and again looked down going back to his deep thoughts.
2. His mom, straightened up, smiled, and then again went back to supporting her face on her hand and looking at his dad.
3. His ‘bhabhi’ turned towards us, smiled too, and went back to the fidgeting.
4. The little kid didn’t even bother to look up. For him the loading of the gun was of utmost importance lest he would be left wanting if he decided to shoot me.

All in all, something serious. I was provided with a chair and I tentatively sat down on it after touching the parents’ feet as my friend’s brother took his place on the bed as well. It was then, when suddenly, his dad became lively and stated that it was much better now as I was there too. What for, I didn’t know yet. He then asked the lady with the remote to switch the television on. So I guessed we were going to have a show of some new movie.

But to my surprise, as the screen came to life, there were no colorful or animated scenes to be seen. Instead, I saw a list of folders just as one sees on a computer screen. And then a girl’s photograph beamed on the screen… And then, I had to actually pinch myself to believe, what my friend’s dad said to me, if he actually said that…

“We are rating the proposals of girls for Sanju (my friend). We should have a variety in opinion. So you also rate the girls as you think. Then we’ll match everyone’s list. That’ll make it easier to decide on the prospective brides.”

All I remember that I mumbled then was… ^&%%#%& ………….. !?!?!?? while my face turned a few shades of pink.

I looked at my friend who was now imitating his mom and was sitting on a chair besides me holding his face in his hand. “You should ask Sanju. No ?? He’s the one who’ll decide the girl. No ??” was all I could say as my senses started returning to me.

“Ohh… No no. Let’s have everyone’s opinion. Not his alone.” His dad replied handing me a paper and pencil. “Just rate them in decreasing order of preference.”

I turned to look at my friend. The bloke wasn’t even given a paper or pencil. And there he was… smiling behind his palm which hid his mouth. Without letting me think of anything else to say, the slideshow on the screen started. With the picture of each girl that appeared, the lighter shades of pink disappeared from my face which turned to newer shades of red.

With each new picture, everyone commented upon their likes and dislikes about the girl on screen. Except of course, my friend’s mom, who as always the simple and quiet lady, just smiled and looked, and my friend, who kept smiling behind his hand, and the little kid, who by now had started on deciding who the targets for his shooting practice would be.

“I really like this girl !” His brother would say suddenly in between. Which would invariably evoke an “Ehhh… ????” from his wife as she would look back and give him a really good stare. Which would lead him to try to explain the merits of the prospective bride, while sweating from the sides of his head even on that freezing night.

I’d better skip the details of more conversation to save myself from some really embarrassing memories. But in the end, the results were far from a consensus. The dad didn’t like the nose of the girl topping the ‘bhabhi’s’ list, while ‘Girl no. 1’ of the brother’s list didn’t even find a place in his wife’s list. In a nutshell, quite a useless exercise as now, the differences in opinion made everyone even more confused.

Though I could hardly concentrate on the pictures on the screen, as I was more concerned about the new shade of color which my face would be displaying, I just peeked into ‘bhaiya’s’ list and copied names. Only that I listed them in an altogether different random order. My racing mind, after quickly assessing the situation, was swift to thus make a list of my own which matched nobody else’s, thereby adding to the confusion there already was.

I handed in my list to my friend’s dad, threw in the proverbial towel and got up to leave without waiting to hear the declaration of the results. I once again touched the parents’ feet and made a dash out into the foggy night. And as my friend came to see me off he commented how I would have to pass through a similar procedure when I get married too. It was partly because of the big grin he now had and more so because I didn’t think it would be the best idea to punch a guy on his nose on his Birthday (even if it is a symbolic one), that I just bid him a good night and slammed myself inside my car.

Coming back to Pooja’s article about arranged marriages in India, it’s not only a harrowing experience for the bride or groom in search but sometimes also for even those not remotely related to the event.

It is not just the choice of the person planning to get married but also every near and dear and not so near and not so dear ones as well. It is as if, a person’s life partner should be acceptable not only to him or her, but also to their families, relatives, friends, friends of friends, neighbors, neighbors’ relatives, neighbors’ friends and almost everyone they know or even do not know.

The bride, or the groom (like my friend in the case mentioned above) are happy to accept what is acceptable and finalized by everyone else. And so has been happening for generations in our country and our society. And surprisingly, everyone seems to be happy with the procedures followed.

But, as for me, it is not only the bride or the groom, but sometimes even people who aren't even involved in it all are the ones who bear the side effects of an Indian wedding.

In the second part of this post that’s coming up, I’ll relate to my very own experiences about attempts of me being forcefully made a prospective groom…. Huh…

And, by the way, finally the prospective bride for my friend has been selected. And she is the same girl whom I had put at no. 1 in my list…………

Debt to Debt....

Case Study #1 :

A small and happy Indian family. A husband, his wife and their son. The parents ensure the best possible upbringing of their son. The son completes his studies, doing exceedingly well all through. He gets a job overseas and hence migrates abroad. He works hard and well enough to get much more than a decent salary. He uses his finances to get his parents a beautiful villa back in India with all the luxuries possible, including servants, drivers, etc. He sends them a big cheque every month and calls them once a week.

A few years later when his father suggests him to return, he explains that his job abroad is a must for them to have a good life. And also that he wouldn’t be able to adjust in India again. But he ensures that his parents are well cared for.

Case Study #2 :
A similar small and happy Indian family. A husband, his wife and their son. The parents ensure the best possible upbringing of their son. The son completes his studies, doing exceedingly well all through. He gets a decent job in their town itself and so the family lives happily together.

A few months into the job, the son falls in love with a girl colleague. But their families have completely different backgrounds. The girl’s family is strictly against their marriage. The guy, hence, gives up his love and decides to marry a girl of his family’s choice for the sake of his parents’ wish to have a daughter-in-law.

The above two scenarios, though completely different, are a common occurrence in the Indian society. Most often than not, you will find young boys and girls taking steps to ensure proper care and well being of their parents, while also ensuring priority to their parents’ wishes. Something which is really heart-warming to find all around us.

But a deeper understanding of such actions provides evidence to a much heavier basis to the above attitudes.

In the first scenario above, the son was more concerned about his parents being well cared for, while in the second scenario, the son put his parents’ wishes on priority. And if you ask anyone, neither of them would be doing any wrong on their parts. In fact, both are being the good sons anyone could ask for.

But in most cases, (surely not all) the reason behind such a caring attitude of children towards their parents is because they seem to realize the great debt they owe to their parents. As per my experiences, people tend to care for their parents in order to repay that debt. You will most often hear someone say. “My parents have done so much for me. So I can’t be selfish. I have to care for them too.”

What I don’t understand here is that do parents care for their little kids so that they can pile on that debt on them which could be retrieved later in life ???

Obviously NO ! Parents do whatever they do for their kids because they love their kids more than anything. So where does this debt thing comes in between… ???

Suppose a guy has to borrow some money from a money-lender in some unfavorable times. He can always repay that debt once he has enough money of his own. But how can one even expect to repay the debt of one’s parents by any of his or her actions ??? In fact, considering the unconditional love of one’s parents to be as a debt is, in a way, reducing it to something cheap and materialistic.

And if one is adamant enough to consider it all as a debt, then, it is absolutely certain that such a debt can never be repaid by any action. Even if one lives for a million years earning a zillion bucks per hour !!!

And if one is adamant enough to consider it all as a debt, then, he will surely take this forward in the next generation onto his kids. Which usually happens later in life. People who believe in this ‘debt’ business towards their parents are the ones who deal for their children’s happiness later in return.

Why can’t people love their parents instead of trying to repay some debt all their lives. Our parents will never ask us for sacrifices in return for any ‘debt’. In fact, they won’t even ask for care or affection. It is actually onto the children to have real feelings for their parents which comes from within. Not due to any obligations.

If a person marries someone of her or his choice, that does not automatically mean that the person will stop loving, caring and respecting one's parents.

On the other hand, there are parents who demand a sacrifice from their child in the form of breaking off with the love-interest and marrying someone of their choice. Such parents are those who have carried the 'debt psychology' towards their own parents and hence expect the same from their own children.

The real happiness our parents have is through seeing us happily leading a good life and by us being with them. No amount of money or sacrifices would give any happiness to our parents if they see us unhappy or don’t see us at all.

I hope people would understand that they should care for their parents out of their love for them. Not because of trying to repay any debt.

We care for our parents because we love them. Not because we have to...