And I met my dream man. It wasn’t the way in which I had thought.
It was through the arranged marriage route. But both of us were certain about one thing. We wanted time and we could not say how much. We spelt this out clearly to our families. His family was a carbon copy of mine. It worked well.
During our courtship, we had these days when we felt “this should be called off, its not going to work” and we had those days which were all mushy and gooey and all we could think of was “lets get hitched”.
The beauty of arranged marriages is – you do not have a whole list of expectations. Of course as an individual you do have expectations from your partner but when it comes to a person you met recently, you let things unfold and build expectations based on “the present”.
So the final decision was “Lets get married”. It wasn’t the overly romantic love but we knew what we wanted from life as a couple, we complemented each other. In him I found a friend for life, my parents found the son they had never had and I found a new set of parents.
While I couldn’t wait for the D day, much to my dismay the wedding ceremony wasn’t one that lived upto my expectations.
We decided to follow the rituals of his community as we weren’t keen on getting married in a particular way. I found most of the customs as patriarchal. The heavy weight of the saree and jewellery plus my hair which was pinned up and adorned with so many flowers was annoying me. I was sweating profusely despite the air conditioner.
I looked at him comfortably sporting a kurta and wondered – what if we swapped places? That thought made me chuckle.
The most regressive custom was yet to come. I was asked by the priest to wash my husband’s feet. I stood rooted to the spot. I was surrounded by 30 people , all elders from his family.
He sensed my discomfort and was the first one to speak “This is not needed, we are equals. She will not do anything of this kind. ”
The priest retorted “Suraj this is a sacred thing, you cannot just decide what you want to do”
“In that case I will wash her feet too” He coolly replied.
The priest was sweating now. He finally decided to do away with this custom.
I looked at Suraj and smiled, talking to myself”I do hope you continue supporting me like this always.”
Looks like I did find a guy like my Daddy.
Linking up with #BlogchatterA2ZChallenge
My theme for the challenge is
“A slice of life through Myra’s eyes” – a fictional tale of growing up and learning some vital lessons about self love, feminism, sisterhood, a working woman and the essence of being a woman in urban India.