If marriages are already made in heaven, then what takes God so long to deliver it?
Disclaimer: I’m not the kind who thinks marriage is a waste of time. I am career driven, but marriage does not take a back seat because of that. To me, with the right person everything can be as fine as it is. You can call it high expectations, but I call it safe optimism.
I have to confess, however, that the whole process that goes behind this sometimes gets me thinking. Right from uploading a picture online to the “they might have something to talk” line, everything. Board exams can be called off, gay weddings can get legalized, but some things simply refuse to change.
That’s not all. The minute the word spreads that you’re in the market, new norms take birth. Outlooks change. And everything boils down to one word. Society. A man-made consortium of peeping neighbours, agony aunties and long lost friends who bump into you at the mall and gesture the thaali with their hands and go, “married”?
Coz I woke up late for my wedding? D-uh!
I can write a book on the kind of questions and responses I get on this subject. It’s hilarious.
So after surfing through a million “leaning-on-somebody’s-expensive-cars”, “mama-says-I-Iook-good-in-a-tie” kind of pics, when you finally like one, you think something’s moving. But no. You thought too soon. It's now that the villain makes its entry. The horoscope.
Astrology, I think, is a kind of voyeurism. You peep into somebody’s future to see whether they’re going to be happy or sad. And then decide on whether they need to be together. Interesting job, I should say. So, forget about the rest of the world you need to convince, try and get the astrologer to say a yes. He’s the man!
If he gives you the green signal, and you’re the girl’s family, things still have a very very long way to go. Wait for the guy’s folks to see what their man thinks. Not the son, the astrologer! The funniest part, he might have a completely new opinion to share. And you go back to square one. How then, can astrology be true? Different story.
When matters move beyond photographs and horoscopes, the real action begins. The girl seeing aka pennu kannals. This ritual can be divided into 5 parts.
Families exchange smiles, enquire about the journey, behave like family already.
The girl walks in (shameless ones like me will be right there for them to see when they walk in), the family looks at her, analyses, exchange glances, nods whatever.
The boy, who’s also there with ma and pa, trying to act his calmest best, and trying harder to catch a glance of everyone in that room with rapid eye movements, finally rests his eyes for a sec on the girl.
The family, now ready to demonstrate their broad mindedness, sends the boy and the girl to talk for a while.
In an attempt to escape all the formalities, you try your hand at finding Mr. Right all by yourself. What goes in is just another complicated process. Unless of course, you’ve had the stars favour you always or you’re part of a bollywood flick.
So Mr. Right, wherever you are, how about catching the next train/flight/bus/auto/bullock cart. (No scrap the last one) and making an entry? It’s about time, don’t you think?