Marriages Are Made In Heaven Or Are They?


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Marriages Are Made In Heaven Or Are They?

In Indian society, as you cross the age of 24-25, and unfortunately start earning a rupee or 2, it becomes an itching alarm for all the Mausis, Buas, Maamis, Chachis, and Aunties, related, remotely related, or only as much related to you, as they belong to the same species. All your female relatives will tightly tie the ‘nada’ of their petticoats and will report to the line of duty. From then on, they don’t give a shit whether their Pappu has done his maths homework, their Pinkie has flunked another exam or their husband (God bless that gentleman) has eaten or not. The burning and explosive need of the universe is: This guy should get married, that too with the girl they want him to marry! I somehow feel that God’s hand is behind this animal instinct of theirs. So that no idealist guy breaks the path and decides to exploit his own organs by himself for his entire lifetime, without contributing to the number game of humanity.

What would this world be like, if all single crazy geek guys would sit in laboratories and invent something new everyday or write beautiful books or build amazing structures? As they say, had God wanted us to do something big in life, why would he have given us genitals? So as the Indian Judiciary checks and balances the unlimited powers of Parliament in India, the same way marriages check and balance the intolerable achievements of humanity. So in a way, the future of the human race is in the hands of that Auntie who can swear by Ganga Jal that she knows a girl who is a cow by nature, a dog by virtue of obedience and works like a donkey. Who would not like to marry so many animals together?

A single man is a threat to society. He is free. And if you are free, you are unpredictable. You can do anything and everything. If every person can cause the disruption at any point in time, then how can the society be sure of anything? There must be someone who should stop you from climbing a mountain and send you to purchase lemons. There must be someone who teaches you that the falling of mosquitoes in your soup during the candle light dinner is cute. There must be someone who becomes your room partner, without paying half rent and annoy you for life. Pro Tip: If you are an Engineer and work far away from home and reach home for Diwali, first check for signs. Notice the bed sheets and pillow covers: Are they new? Do you see new a dinner set on the table? Open the fridge: Do you see 3 big bottles of cold drinks? Notice the floor: Is it as cleaned up as if someone has licked each and everything? If yes, you are screwed, buddy! The game is set, today there will be a visit from your future-in-laws.

Soon some people with come with a box of sweets, big smiles plastered on faces and “I have a dream” speech prepared. You will sit on half of your butt in a crowded room, sheepishly look at tiles and for the first time, notice the design on the floor. Your future mother-in-law will claim that even Kalidasa would fail to describe the eternal beauty of their world famous daughter (in a parallel universe); but mind you, no pictures. You will be encouraged to dream of a girl who looks like Sunny Leone but deep down is as sacred as Tulsi of Kyonki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi. And remember, this will happen in the middle of a room, filled with 25 people; Each one’s eyes glued to both your facial muscles (or any other muscle for that matter,) reaction to their description. Naah, no photo still, use your imagination. General statements will be made about God, marriage systems, new generation etc. to avoid any responsibility being given to the listener to comprehend anything new. People will assume the oncoming cliche and nod, agreeing with anything and everything in advance.

Those people sitting in front of you, meeting you for the first time, will speak that quality of yours, which even you were unaware of till now. Even if you are as short as Tyrion Lannister of Game of Thrones, the aunty will admire you for it. She will claim that if you stand on the roof, then in no way you can get stuck to the high-tension wires above. That father of yours, who abuses you, gets hoarse, drinks water and abuses you again, with the same mouth will compare you to the moon. You will get hazy due to this overdose of admiration, will smile and nod to one carefully drafted question, inserted cleverly in between 20 other meaningless questions, and that’s it. You raise your head and see the bellies of both your fathers (Oh yes, you have two fathers now) colliding with each other while they clumsily try to hug. Your mother will wipe her tears by the end of her saree and start dialing numbers to all the relatives. Sweets get distributed and everyone laughs and hug and jump with joy. You wonder what just happened? You are just sold, buddy! Congratulations! Aur haan, jodiyan to sab upar se ban kar aati hain 🙂

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Gauri Shankar

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