I'm 25, independent, happy, not-unattractive and I'm going to have an arranged marriage.
That is the truth.
I don't trust my judgment in men and I have almost a decade worth of proof to show for it. I don't know what type of person I want to end up with and how rich he should be or how 'family-oriented'. I may have figured out my savings and bills and taxes but in this case I'm still as confused as I was at 15. So maybe this isn't a bad thing.
But here's the thing. It scares the hell out of me. The concept in itself is warped. I'm sent a picture and a personal CV as opposed to a professional one. On paper, he sounds perfect. So my parents call his parents and set up a meeting. We meet, we talk and that's it. Technically, he can 'court' me for a year, but, who are we kidding? If we've exchanged numbers and have had so much as one phone conversation its taken for granted that this is a done thing. After a couple of phone conversations and god forbid any one-to-one interaction, I turn the guy down, the many 'proposals' that were coming my way dwindle to almost nothing. And those sad few remaining are nowhere close to perfect even on paper. So what does a girl do? Say yes to marrying a complete stranger to fulfill expectations? Settle? Learn to 'love' a person you don't know and can't un-know when you realize you don't love them. Its a 'between the Devil and the deep sea' choice.
It's quite frankly a lottery or a gamble of any other kind. You could ofcourse 'fall in love' with this person eventually or just learn to live with him. He could be a wife beater, drug addict, alcoholic or even have a girlfriend hidden away. The society I live in still frowns at divorce. Faced with any of the above situations I'll probably be asked to work at it or even more plausibly be accused of not meeting his standards or doing things wrong for him to behave like this.
So, what does a girl do? Do I succumb to parental pressure and try it out? You never know, my Prince Charming is probably the one whose CV I just got forwarded. Or am I taking this step and closing the doors on the possibility that down the line I may have found the absolutely perfect person for me. My gut-wrenching, overwhelming, sun-kissed, heart-skipping, story-for-the-ages romance. But hey, I'm married and saddled with 2 kids and I can't possibly leave the man I settled for when quite obviously the man that makes me completely, blissfully, painfully happy is standing right across the road.
And here I thought, getting an education and a job and a house and doing decently well in all those aspects was the end of the line, stress wise. It's the only topic that ever makes me think 'I wish I wasn't born in India'. How is it that my folks forget that everywhere else people manage to find men on their own? That at 25, I still have a couple of good years ahead of me. That I am not over-the-hill and desperately in need of a husband.
It's Shantam's birthday today.
He committed suicide a couple of years back.
I don't know why.
His mother was my housemistress back in school. One of my favorite teachers. He left for Goa to study architecture. I spoke to him on the phone a couple of times, met him thrice and then he was gone.
Today is his birthday.
I don't remember it. But he's still on my Facebook and Facebook reminds me on the left side of my home screen. I struggle with whether I should wish him or not. I click on his profile page. See a couple of people have wished him. Some names I recognize, some I don't. I click on 'photos' and scroll down. Red shirt, almost skinned head, skinny as hell, happy. Just as I remember. Always a joke to share, a leg to pull. We weren't even good friends. Just friends. The kind you say hi to when you cross on the corridor, share a joke, text once in 6 months, probably talk that often too, call when in town. That sort of friend.
I see the pictures. By the beach, with new friends, beer in hand and then I see the old pictures. The ones taken at graduation or on the tennis courts while we were all still at school. Still young, innocent, laughter in our eyes, unaware of all that was about to change. The Shantam I knew. I struggle with the nostalgia and then I click on 'write something' and say what I would've if he was actually still checking his Facebook.
Happy Birthday. By the way, They're singing your song at assembly every morning. Awesome na!
I hope he's checking his Facebook. I know he'll be happy to know that they're singing his song. And like that day I stood at assembly after 7 years and heard them sing that song, I know he will feel connected, because I still do.
Shantam was a talented musician. The Assam Valley School, our school, sings the song he composed (lyrics and music) at assembly everyday. Unofficially, I believe it is our 'school song'.
In remembrance:
"I can see confusion is the sign of the times.
Everywhere compassion's getting harder to find.
Someday when we learn that no ones strong enough to make it on their own.
I just hope that someone there would take the time to care and pass it on.
Pass it on, Pass it on, to a brother who might need a helping hand.
Pass it on, to a sister it may give her strength to stand.
Love and kindness make a flame known by many different names.
Pass it on, pass it on, pass it on.
People say id like to get involved but i cant.
Anyway Ive got problems of my own i haven't solved.
Each one help another and that one help another one along.
Like a fire burning low every log will make it glow and Pass it on"
I was never career minded to begin with. I used to be one of those Indian girls (and trust me there are many) who keep 'career' as an option. The plan was to finish my studies and get married to some rich bloke and spend my life attending kitty parties, exhibitions, weddings and ofcourse be a hands-on mother. Yes, I know what that sounds like. So much for calling myself a 'feminist' all through college. Cliched as it may sound, oftentimes life has a different plan for you than you have for yourself.
Once I finished studying I decided I wanted to continue living in Delhi. My reasons were many - banishment to Assam, spending too much time in the middle of the tea gardens, my friends and most importantly the boyfriend. Considering I was living on a steady pocket-money-income from my parents, I had to figure out (and fast) what I would be doing in Delhi to stay on. So my cousin hooked me with an internship with O&M. Ofcourse I didn't realise that I was entering the organisation that was considered the mecca of advertising. That lakhs applied and select few ever made it into those hallowed offices. I took for granted almost immediately what people have later told me have been their 'dream' place to work in.
How 3.5 years passed since that first day, I cannot begin to fathom. It sure doesnt feel like that long a time. And in that time I have made friends that made me WANT to go to office everyday, that made me WANT to be there till 2AM chatting and chilling. It almost never felt like going to work. Ofcourse a large part of that was a team that let me get away with days of languid web browsing, too many cigarette breaks, gossip sessions that lasted longer than work meetings and regular movie screenings. I miss them as I write this and I certainly miss all the noise and fun. Its funny how that happens. I didn't realise till I put in my papers that I even considered these people 'friends' and I don't know when they became that. Not only was everyone friendly but they spent genuine time getting to know each other. There was always time for a smoke or egg maggi or ginger tea at the tea stall downstairs. Little things tend to pile up.
The largest part of my affection to that office though is tied up in one individual. I'm not going to spend more than a paragraph on him. That deserves an entire post of its own but no story about my time at O&M is complete without atleast a para. It started as one of those workplace crushes. He was on my floor, not on my team and if I had only let it be our paths would never have crossed. I'm not subtle though and he got to know and we texted and went for coffees and stole smiles and glances for the better part of a year. The girlfriend of 3 years always loomed in the background but this was an office dalliance. The kind that stays at the workplace and never converts to anything tangible and is lost in the whirlwind of anticipation. It makes office interesting and fun but rarely does anything more, except it did.
He's one of my reasons for leaving. One among many more. In my romanticized mind, the MOST important but if i'm honest not really. By default I was put in BTL advertising, a large part of which was rural, and while 80% of India's population is 'rural' and there's endless scope in terms of advertising it wasnt a field I had much interest in. Digital was what I wanted to do. I was half-heartedly applying to jobs, when one day a up and coming digital agency that I hadn't applied to called and I interviewed and I got the job. Who would've thought? I think it was a sign. The kind that comes rarely and if you take the chance it opens doors you always meant to open but were too comfartable where you were to ever actually do it. The indecision and stress that followed were unimaginable. I knew the move would be good career wise but I wanted to stay with my team and I had never worked anywhere else so needless to say I was nervous about whether I'd like my boss and what if I didn't get along with anyone. A lot of 'if's' and 'but's'.
Most of all though, I knew my pseudo office romance wouldn't sustain and I was already rife with expectations from a man who had a girlfriend, who no matter what he or I said was yanking my chain and may or may not be doing this with a dozen other women. If I didn't get out now while I was just in knee-deep muddy water, I would then be in quicksand. If I stayed though I would probably 'get' him (whatever that means). So for the first time in my life, I made the right decision. The ones that you make with your head and not your heart. The ones that seem like they're awful and impulsive and made too quickly but you know deep down you'd be regretful if you let them go. So I put in my papers, spent my last month spending enough time with friends, cried my heart out all of my last day and (physically atleast) moved on.
I'm here now. In my new office. In the 2nd week of my 2nd job. Its quiet and different and even though I've spent all this time complaining to everyone I meet, i'm sort of settling in. It'll never be Ogilvy but then nothing will ever compare. I'm making friends and staying quiet and after 3.5 years making a first impression. I've gone back to visit and I feel renewed potent nostalgia but maybe what Marilyn Monroe said about good things falling apart so better things can fall together is after all the truth.
I will just have to wait and see.
