I’ve been seeing a lot of jokes about the show on matchmaking and arranged marriages on Netflix and as someone who’s lived through this hell for most of her twenties, I’m here to tell you; it’s no joking matter 1/n
My parents started “looking” for a potential groom while I was in my early twenties (23, I think) because while they were very liberal, it turned out they were pretty conventional too. I wasn’t told about this “search” till two days before the boy and his parents were coming over
It was the first in a series of engineering school graduates who may or may not be in the US but who’s attributes almost ever were, degree, pay packet and family background. What did I bring to the table? Looks and family and prestige in terms of being educated. Or so it was blvd
I was almost always not talking enough, or not fair enough or not demure enough or, in spite of degrees from liberal arts institutes that were the best in the country and the world, not “professionally qualified” enough. No, they don’t want a working/
Daughter in law but they do want one with degrees that they respect; engineering, medicine, heck even Msc would do. What is journalism? In one memorable instance it turned out my family wasn’t high quality Brahmin enough also/
I want to clarify at this point that I wasn’t a passive recipient, coyly serving tea to families trooping in. I led the charge in rejecting men and then some more because I couldn’t fathom getting married and especially to the ones who walked into my parents living room/
The NRIs were the worst. One came straight from the airport and chewed gum while talking to my dad. He proceeded to tell me that he needs to take a decision ASAP because he’s going back in three weeks and from my place, he has to go and meet three other girls, so what did I think
My parents couldn’t fathom why their daughter would say no to absolutely fine alliances with some very fine boys (nope, they weren’t). It led to ugly fights, stressful nights where no one at home would even speak to me and several panic attacks (I didn’t even know they were
panic attacks till years later) the arranged marriage system ruined my relationship with my parents, especially my mum through my twenties. It took a happy go lucky, cheerful kid and made her a nervous wreck who would every single day grapple with the question; what’s wrong with
me? For gossipy members of extended family, I was the girl “who demands too much”, my parents became a cautionary tale “don’t indulge your child like the Dovals do” Compromise was a word that everyone felt compelled to offer me as a magic wand and really, could I
stop being so ungrateful? Couldn’t I see what I was doing to my parents? I did succumb once; I took the practical decision to say “yes” to an engineering (what else) graduate on the west coast. Two months of emotional abuse over long distance phone calls (he was really
committed to hating women) where I was chastened for my class Xth marks in Maths and scolded for laughing while talking to his friend followed. When I was told one memorable Sunday six weeks before the wedding that I absolutely cannot take his name, is there no limit to my being
Shameless, I told my parents. They were shocked but “was I sure I wasn’t exaggerating?” I don’t know what happened that night but I woke up the next morning to my parents having called off the engagement. I was 27. I had been in this hell for four years, I had discovered
That stress made my appetite clam up after I went hungry for three days in a row (over agonising about how to tell my parents yet again that no, I won’t marry another prospective suitor) I had found out that boys who’s mother’s extolled their “poetry writing” will sit across
the table from you and ask you, are you a virgin and what are your views on cheating and he wants three children and I have to say yes to that before this can go further. I had the father of one tell me that I don’t need to work even as the son looked at the tray of snacks
In front of him and said, isn’t anyone going to serve me? I was able to put a stop to this nonsense once and for all after turning 28. My parents listened to me and as the years went by, I repaired my relationship with them and with myself. I made jokes out of my experiences
But my scars remain. This is a system which reduces women to cattle, where you are repeatedly subject to humiliation and insult just because the other side can. It perpetuates the worst form of patriarchal abuse and while we should laugh about it, we also need to have a serious
conversation amongst ourselves that why does this still persist? Why do we still let it persist?
