I finally finished it and it was a gratifying moment. Felt damn happy that mom and grandpa totally approved of my writing. I also am kicked about the fact that I had the balls to actually write out slightly daring things in my essay.
So anyway, now that one load is off my chest, it’s time for the next one. No surprises here, my pet peeve, thought it’s hardly a pet. It’s more a pisses-the-fuck-outta-me peeve.
Arranged Marriage. Or should I say Apathetic Mass-piss-off-ery.
About a week from now, the dreaded meeting is scheduled to take place. Despite the fact that it would be MY wedding (hypothetically), I have very little say on these grand diplomatic negotiations which are so clever and polite and tactful that I really believe the South Indian community ought to advise the U.N or the Israel-Palestine mediators on how to get things done. So mom and I were chatting today about the grand meeting and she was asking me what I would like to know about the guy.
The irony is that mom’s the only one who can really understand why this is frustrating me, and she is not the one meeting the parents of the boy. Wonderful.
It’s all cool with me because I am still unmarried and I will be so until I want not to be. But the problem is that even if I agree to this bullshit, I can’t have my wedding my way. Which I think is grossly unfair. I want to be able to decide what I will wear, what my hair will look like and everything else in between. I’m one of those girls who plans their wedding from the time they’re 13, and it should be no surprise- I plan my wardrobe a LOT.
And I definitely know what I DONT WANT TO WEAR.
–The horror of all horrors, the compost of female clothing, the monstrosity that is the 9-yard saree–
The 9-yard saree is the fugliest outfit ever designed- Unflattering, bulky, dowdy and a complete waste of cloth. I don’t care if you disagree- I abhor this outfit like I abhor well.. this outfit. I won’t wear it. And somehow this is creating a major outcry. Mom and Dad are all cool with my choice, but some people aren’t. Apparently it’s the tradition and blah blah insert psuedo-religious guacamole about the greatness of Indian culture. Why should the survival on Indian culture depend on my wearing an abhorrent distasteful fugly outfit? I mean, correct me if I’m wrong here, but isn’t our culture sooooo great that it has survived centuries of attempts at modernisation? Huh? All of a sudden poor lil Jups has to bear the burden of furthering traditions? Bollocks.
“What if they threaten to stop the marriage if you say you won’t wear a nine-yard saree?”
Hmmm. That’s an interesting thought, and kind language it’s been worded with too.
What if I threaten to stop the marriage if he doesn’t wear an Armani suit? Or a BATMAN costume? I want to marry BATMAN dammnit! Oh is that immature? And threatening to stop a marriage isn’t? If we’re all going to be relentless and immature, I say we involve comic books. Plus I am not kidding about the Armani suit.
Is this how it’s supposed to be? Trivial pursuit of ridiculous customs is all justifiable simply because “the boy’s side” can ask for it! That’s the bigger issue here. Not my fashion preferences. The bigger issue is that someone has the prerogative to hold a marriage hostage to what the bride wears. Given that the bride is a reasonably significant part of a wedding, isn’t that something to think about? It’s also noteworthy that the woman’s family normally bears the brunt of wedding expenses too. I’m genuinely ashamed of being an Indian. You can have a big walk in the park with all the progress talk, but it’s all shit and mud if a girl can’t choose to wear what she likes on her wedding.
I am also well aware of the fact that my marriage is not happening tomorrow. In fact nothing has been arranged YET. But it still bothers me that regardless of who I’m marrying and when, I am being judged for a purely personal choice that will not affect anyone on this planet. I want to wear a normal saree, or a lehenga. It’s not like I was gonna turn up in a bikini, but even if I did, it wouldn’t be the worst thing a human being did.
Nobody is doing me a favour by marrying me. I wear what I want on any odd day and my wedding day is NOT going to be an exception. All the traditional farts who think otherwise may kindly fuck off from my face. Including Mr.Bridegroom.