Marriage Material Part Une

I've been told that I'm 'marriage material'. 

This should feel like a compliment but it doesn't especially when it's used as an excuse to not go on a date. It's like being doused with a wet blanket when you're on an already cold, lonesome and at times uncomfortable path. 

There are people who look at dating only as a means to marriage. I think a little differently. Dating is simply a way to get to know a person. It can mean different things to different people, provided that the two (or more) people involved are on the same page. Marriage is scary and difficult and here's a fun fact - women are afraid of it too. After all, they're the ones who have to 'adjust and compromise' the most. Usually, it's women who not only leave their homes but immediately move in with a whole new family while maintaining an unflinching smile throughout (but don't smile too much, we don't want to look chalu). And if things aren't going well, they have to bear the brunt of it from both sides of the family, smiling serenely still. A date doesn't take a lot (it's awkward enough on its own) but committing does. 

I thoroughly enjoyed watching Indian Matchmaking on Netflix. I don't care about how regressive it is, Netflix isn't some moral teacher. Decide for yourself. Shouldn't the fact that everyone who was a client of Sima Taparia from Mumbai is still single and unmatched be enough of a clue that the system is deeply flawed? We watch and read enough trash in our lives and we all know that the truth is almost always stranger and scarier than fiction.

My experiences in the 'arranged marriage scene' have been pleasant for the most part. I am fortunate that I have a very supportive family who not only protect me but also value my opinions and feelings before anything else. There are moments of frustration but they're always overshadowed by love and a good sense of humour. Most of the men I've met have been suggested by loving aunts and uncles. I have always considered myself to be a romantic.  

A few years ago, a friend of my parents suggested that I should meet her neighbour's son for the express purpose of (gulp) marriage. He was 'good on paper'. He had gone to both IIT and IIM and was working at that time at a top consultancy. He lived in the same city, he was well educated and his Facebook page seemed harmless enough. I thought it sounded good so I said (as I usually do) that I am open to meeting him. Our phone numbers were shared via the aunty network and the day after my mom mentioned it, he called me. He sounded nice and made a joke at the circumstances that brought us together, something that I liked. He cut to the chase and asked me to meet him for a coffee on the coming Saturday at 11.30am. The timing did catch me off guard but here is where the internalised training that ladies receive kicks in and so I agreed happily. I went to my parents and gave them the update. My father simply laughed (because he knows that I'm not an early riser unless I need to be) and my mother very seriously looked at me and said, 'Wake up by 9am. I don't want to see any puffiness.' 

On that bright and crisp Saturday morning, I woke up well in time, not a bloat in site. Washed and did my hair then got a message from him asking to delay it to noon. Not a problem. I was feeling nervous but excited and had resolved not to indulge in my favourite pastime - over analysing. I reached the venue at 12pm sharp but I had a strange inkling that I couldn't identify. It wasn't the jitters, it was something else. When I reached the cafe he had selected and was told that it wouldn't open for another thirty minutes, the feeling dissipated (mumbling something like 'I knew it' but I squashed it deep within along with all my fears and doubts). I did not begrudge him for not checking. My positivity was like teflon. It could handle this little mishap. 

I walked back to my car hoping that my 'no make up make up' wouldn't start melting in the heat. I thought about calling him but ever the problem solver, I instead starting thinking of other places where we could go when he called me. He had reached and received the news as well. I went back there and we exchanged an awkward hand shake and a nervous smiley hey, how are you. A cafe being closed in a city like Delhi shouldn't be a problem because there's almost always another place around the corner. However, this particular location was in a bit of a sleepy market. Not even a Cafe Coffee Day in sight. I was just about to suggest going to another restaurant (which was open) in a nearby market when he said - 'Hey, there's a Domino's nearby. Why don't we go there till this place opens up?'

...to be continued

                            ...in thirty minutes

                                                            ...or more. 

Will still be hot.