Arranging Love

Arranging Love

Matchmakers. Exchanging pictures. And email addresses. Finding out about their family background. And religion. And social status. Whether their parents were divorced, had a love marriage, or were arranged. What do their siblings do? The list goes on and on. And somewhere between the ‘a’ of age and ‘z’ of zealous parents on that list, I begin to feel like the ‘c’ for cow being sold at an auction. Or horse. Or mare, as the case may be. In ‘Black Beauty’ they talk of auctions, horse auctions, where the prospective buyer looks the horse up and down, enquires about its breed and heritage, examines its coat for scars, its knees for marks of a jumper, or its back and strength to carry goods up a hill. And I couldn’t help but be struck by the similarity in an arranged marriage.True, you get a fine horse.. well trained, obedient, willing… and completely devoid of spirit. But then again, that was what all that training was for, wasn’t it? Fixing the saddle, and the bit, the training ring and whip – all to quench whatever vestige of ’spirit’ there may have been. Create, without a laboratory, or test- tubes, and all after birth at that, a hybrid. Are hybrids always better than the original? How many more errors are there always than that one working prototype? Has nature not always given rise to more working prototypes than man’s feeble attempts at playing God? And what more sublime a nature, than that quality of human nature, the one we call love?

“It works out so well for the majority” one might argue. And yes, who can argue that? India has 1/6th of the world’s population, with a majority of arranged marriages and divorce rates well under 30%… while the West, with a predominance of allegedly ‘love’ marriages, has a divorce rate over 51%, tilting the viewers scale to the favour of arranged marriage, given the statistics. And how can you contradict statistics, the critics condemn. But Biostatistics, would beg to differ. Would you, would you care to pause for just one moment… and reflect on what the statistics really are?

If divorce is your benchmark, then there are only 2 options – divorce, or no divorce. Leaving you with a 50-50 margin of chance. Equal opportunity, you could say. Different strokes for different folks. And again, how many of those marriages ending up in divorce were really ‘love’ marriages.. and not ‘lust’ marriages.

And then I get rebuked… “Love? What is love? Soon as that ring is on your finger – or around your neck, as is more appropriate, love goes out the window. 10 years down the line, love or no love, its all the same.” Well… love is what makes that ring worthwhile, what makes it more than the metal is worth, what scientists cannot explain to the day, but lovers already know by instinct alone.

That those in love declare that they cannot live apart, or die, is fallacy, for survival alone needs no love – but without it, to live, is a dead existence.

The ‘arranged’ wife will pray for her husband to live, so he can support her and her children. But the ‘love’ wife will pray for her companion.

The arranged husband will yell when his dinner isn’t ready at exactly 9pm and his wife will sulk… the ‘love’ husband will yell, but it only serves to make the kiss and make up session so much more intense.

The arranged parents will teach their kids to follow, rigorously, tradition, go off to college and get a degree, get married to continue your family line, think well and mindfully before they select the breeding ground to ensure the genetic carry-forward and hybrid DNA. The ‘love’ parents will teach their kids about life, and values behind the tradition, will send their kids off to college but know they will come back; their children learn to follow their hearts, and their DNA is concocted with the all-knowing secret ingredient of the subconscious, that knows better than its conscious rival, the ingredient of love.

The ‘arranged’ kids obey as they know no other way, out of tradition and fear of insubordinance, their driving force being fear. The ‘love’ kids obey out of respect, awe and love, their driving force being their conscience.

For the intangible to become tangible, you must bear the sensory organ to bear witness to it; and this, marks the difference between those that know, and those that do not. And while all do not, only some, it is true, possess the ability; it is possible, with time, to consciously remove it, as in enucleation of an eyeball. But the memory, if it ever existed, will remain. As the brain saves its visual centre, even though it may atrophy, and the memory of images may dull with time, there will always be a trace of it, no matter how inaccessible, in the far reaches of the subconscious that saves all; it will remain, to haunt, like a spectre, when least aware.

And at those rare and far-between moments when that love is brought to surface, by a long ago memory, a distant reminder, and a small smile, barely perceptible, quivers just the corner of your lips, not reaching, yet a smile, nor also a pout, then, you know.. you always knew, what love is.

The Namesake: Book Review

The Namesake
I started reading “The Namesake” today. People often ask – ‘what difference, Arranged Marriage or Love Marriage. Ultimately, in a few years, they end up the same. Or perhaps, with arranged, you later love. And love – all that is left is to fall out of love.’To all of them, perhaps, I would quote the example of, ‘The Namesake.’ Every page of the book is testament, a reinforcement, of the bleak concept of the ‘arranged marriage.’ Agreed, it is not something that anyone at all could grasp, understand, or, ever, accept. And, even as I endevaour to describe this in further detail for those so interested, be fair warned that a majority will disagree to the following paragraphs; some may sigh and look heavenward, condoning the lines as random bawling of innocence, or nod wisely, thinking, this child too, soon shall wake from lullaby land.

I once watched a movie – or was it a serial – where they spoke of 3 types of love. Just love, like that every school jock has for every cheerleader; Lo—oo-ove, that which convinces the commitment-phobic man to propose; and Great Love – that which only the best friend knows, he who has sat up nights being the shoulder to cry on for his girl to vent her frustrations at her boyfriend who has impregnated her and left for the next empty headed coke bottle, or worse, for the college bicycle, over a bet one particularly frolicky and beer-laden night out with the boys. Great love, that moves him, to sit by and wipe the vomit and tears off his girls’ face, knowing those tears are not for him. Great love, that makes him advise her, and correctly, on how to get him back, when all he really wants is to sock him in the jaw (the only thing preventing him being her upshot protective reflex for her ‘love’) and ride off into the sunset with her. Great love, that makes the girl-next-door who’s being hit on by every guy with half a Y chromosome, reject them, and stand, waiting, watching, for hours for her beau ‘Unaware’, who’s gone off without so much as a word, and who, on the random moments they meet (arranged, to ‘accidentally’ meet, by her) delights in discoursing in detail his latest string of cheery cheerleaders and how he waved their pompoms.

But back to our Debate on Marriage, for which we return to ‘The Namesake.’ Well, the first 35pages anyway – as that is all I have read thus far, having started it only this morning.
Ashima is raised to be the perfect doting wife, marketed on the ability to wield a mean ladle – and knitting needle. Shipped – or flown off – with her arranged spouse to Cambridge, a strange new land, she finds her surroundings bleak and desolate. Until the birth of her baby boy, who grows in her a new passion for life. Formerly entertaining herself by cooking, cleaning and wandering around the house aimlessly, the baby now gives her endless hours of unfree time, thus filling her days with new joy, unrestful as they may seem. Until the day she get a call from home, cross-continent, from her brother who tells her nothing unusual, to her surprise, considering she has never had a call from home. Which is when our hero, or her husband, lies over her, pressing her to the bed, for as long as she begins to think he’s about to switch off the lights and caress her – and then breaks the news that her father is dead. Now her husband does not seem by any means a terrible control freak, indeed, I would go as far to say that he is pretty understanding and intelligent, considering he did not flare up when she accused him of putting salt instead of sugar in her tea but instead, amazingly, diagnosed her pregnant. Granted, their 1st argument WAS because she shrunk his sweater in the washing machine – but that’s to be expected, isn’t it? Anyway… my point is.. lets just dissect the story a bit, to put it into context with our debate – arranged vs love marriage.

a) Little village girl is all alone in a strange land, traveling by a monster in the sky that appears as big an ant when she’s ever seen it in the sky.
Setting: The plane
Arranged Marriage: Hubby is engrossed in a book.
Love Marriage: Theyre holding hands, hubby is talking to her describing (accurately) whats to be expected there, and, considering he’s an engineer, possibly even the aerodynamics involved in getting the monster into the sky.
Lets consider, even, worst cases of a totally unaware guy – he’d still, at the very least, hold the poor girls hand, or, even if he didn’t, wouldn’t reject or consider it taboo for her to clutch onto his. Even if he is very boring, at least all the engineer speak would get her drowsy enough to fall asleep, thus distracting her from a panic attack.

b) They arrive in a strange land, her for the first itme ever, its covered with snow, tiny apartment with cockroaches.
Arranged Marriage: She starts cooking, he goes off to work. They come back, he watches tv, she serves dinner, they go off to sleep. OK, even considering a slightly better scenario that he, under the insistence of his parents to become grandparents, or the pressure of the freezing weather stimulating them to indulge in a little more physical contact, considering its been prearranged, in all probability he’s busy satisfying himself and she’s pretending to enjoy the ride. Now, one may argue, perhaps he’s a nice guy and interested in her pleasure as well. Not impossible or implausible in todays day and age, you may counter. So lets consider it. He’s playing nice guy and asks ‘do you like this.’ Butt.. you forget.. this is an arranged marriage. And what is the hallmark of an arranged marriage? Upbringing to be a pleasing wife. Bingo. So even if he asks, she is bound to reply that she is doing great, which enhances both guilt (over pretence) and self-consciosness over being asked a question, and maybe even a bit of self-doubt, as in ‘is he asking me coz I don’t look like Im enjoying this? Will he be unsatisfied? Did he ask me coz he isn’t happy enough?’ which promotes her to pretend even more.. facilitating only him to be fooled even more.
Love Marriage: Hubby has informed her what to expect, or at least she’s asked in advance and he’s been truthful. Best case scenario – he’s taken the day off to welcome and integrate his babe to the new country, cooks dinner for them both or orders in, telling her to relax, its her 1st day in a new country – which is understanding brought on only by love. Worst case – he goes off to work, she burns the meal. But – because theyre in love, when he gets home, he cracks a joke about the whole thing, tells her how alone he felt when he 1st got there, orders in and they sit by the tv and he describes his day. Night time and they both know theyre feeling good, and they both know they can tell each other what they really want, coz that’s trust, brought on only by – love.

c) Parents are asking for a grandkid. Its been 9months.
Arranged Marriage: Hubby figures he might as well impregnate her so she wont sit around moping the whole day and will have something to do. She’s under pressure to conceive, to get an heir. Can she do it? More anxiety. She wants a kid to prove herself, as well as get his attention and nightly cavorting out of the way. She’s taken to neglecting herself, both out of depression in a strange place, nothing to do but lie in all day or taste the meals shes been cooking, and so that hubby dearest wont pounce on her each night like a lion devouring its prey. Does he actually think she likes being treated like a pincushion? She doesn’t know its partly her fault for not voicing what she wants (but that’s against ‘upbringing’) as well as for screaming ecstatically like she’s a 2year old on a merry-go-around.
Love Marriage: Hubby defends his prize to the inlaws with ‘we’re enjoying ourselves right now, taking our time. No hurry, just seeing how it goes.’ Their lives are complete just the way they are, even if it a bit lonely considering the folks are far away. Lots of foreplay and they’re both happy at night.

d) A child is born
Arranged Marriage: He sighs in relief at having an heir, she sighs in relief that she has company. He goes to work, she raises the kid. He comes home and spends time with the kid if it’s a boy, their life is father-son time and mother-son time. They’re her kids when they’re naughty, and his when they’re smart.
Love Marriage: Even if he does go to work leaving her to raise the kid, when he comes back he wants to spend time with both of them, doesn’t take the kid away, they’re a family. The parents support each other in discipline, or at least come to some sort of settlement.

e) Tense moments – In the Namesake – 1st time on theplane; news that Ashima’s grandmother had a stroke, news that Ashima’s father passed away.
Arranged Marriage: He will put a hand over hers in sympathy, and that’s supposed to make her feel all better. She will tell him shes sorry, and he has to put on a brave face. Words are few and far between. Isnt it better to pretend it never happened.. or simply move on?
Love Marriage: They support each other. Give each other time, and space. But are still there to listen, to talk, to hold, to be there, advise and go through it together. At least they have each other.

That’s as far as I’ve been reading. About 50pages – till they’re on a plane flying back to Calcutta. Still think arranged marriage is better?

Song Review: Somebody’s Me

- Enrique Iglesias Lyrics

OK… Now I really hate Enrique’s video in this song… it portrays exactly what a playboy he is, and he’s really fake, but I love the words of the song – typically rip your heart out material, and so fitting. (Except hopefully for the line ‘and now it’s gone..’ which he redeems only by saying ‘What we had, isn’t lost.’). I’m not an Enrique fan by any measure, for I prefer to like songs rather than the singers.. but there are just 2 songs he sings whose words really hit me – ‘Do you know’ and of course, now, ‘Somebody’s Me.’

The lyrics describe eternal love, a relationship that has no end, even if it is limited by physical boudaries. The reminisce of what has been, and promise of forever. The pledge of allegiance, always, to just the one that is worth him. The video, on the other hand, seems to have absolutely no physical boundaries, with Enrique doing almost everything possible on it. Seriously, Enrique, if we wanted to see a soft porn video wed just go out and get a porno video! Its as if Enrique has finally discovered how to fulfill his lifelong ambition of pornstar, while satisfying his fans with a beautiful song. Never mind that he cries in every one of his songs… this one does bring tears to your eyes…. just dont watch the video or you will be crying for a whole other reason — namely cryin for him to get off the screen and stop spoiling the song!!

I pity his song writers.. poor things must be slaving away, getting no credit (or action for that matter) – and absolutely brilliant. And then Enrique comes along, buys them out for a.. song.. gets all the credit (and action) with a new girl every video, and all the while absolutely having no idea what the lyrics mean. What a life!

Hello world! First Entry

 

Internet anonymity is what keeps blogs alive… And so today I join this new domain, where keys play a different genre of music and the Mouse is mightier than the pen. My First Entry is short, for brevity is soul and pictures speak more than words. Ghosts of the cybernation, connected across continents merely by the intricate fibers of the Net, will you critique or applaud… my Squandering Thoughts!!

More About Me

1 shade darker than Nelly, (Furtado)
2 shades fairer than J-Lo,
3 inches taller than Missy Elliott
4 times 2 stone not more

Small hands long nails
Waist-long hair that’s black
Much prefer zips n chains
To lacy frills on my rack

Beauty and brains that I vie for
A diamond in the rough
Growin up all around the world
Made me kind tough

Soft core but hard shelled
A coconut in the extreme
Wit gets me laughin everytime but
Requited love is my dream

First Entry

Internet anonymity is what keeps blogs alive… And so today I join this new domain, where keys play a different genre of music and the Mouse is mightier than the pen. My First Entry is short, for brevity is soul and pictures speak more than words. Ghosts of the cybernation, connected across continents merely by the intricate fibers of the Net, will you critique or applaud… my Squandering Thoughts!!