Shaadi Dot Com

I have been organizing my computer for weeks now, and as always I chanced upon something that inspired me to write a new post. Recently, I have been disturbed by everything around me and that, coupled with the incredible heat, has made me physically ill. It had to happen. But I am digressing. I found an old grad paper I wrote and I realized I was struggling with issues of identity. It wasn’t a direct paper backed with endless research in the library. It was personal and the research was into myself. Surprisingly, they didn’t fail me. Which is always a good thing, isn’t it?

Anyway, coming back to what inspired me was a little story that I wrote about an event in my life (in one of my papers) which was important. Also, that little story reminded me of something that I have observed.

Once upon a time, there was a girl called Navin and a girl called Nadia. The girl called Navin was obsessed with “real” and the girl called Nadia said there is no real and fuck real. The girl called Navin was stubborn. But so was the girl called Nadia. They argued for three weeks. Then they didn’t speak to each other. Then they did. But everything changed. Because three weeks went by.

The girl called Nadia left. The girl called Navin married a doctor.

And she left too. I came back. I didn’t ride anyone’s back to leave, though. Isn’t it funny how so many women marry doctors and leave the country? Doctors or other similar creatures. They’re tickets to a better life far, far away. Almost every other girl does it. It’s the new black.

Apparently, there’s some work involved in achieving this perfect union. The parents do all the dirty work – such as gathering possibilities and checking profiles. For this, they either use professional services or the assistance of family and friends. The girls meanwhile, wait with bated breath while they go to college and wonder about their bright foreign futures with their friends who aspire to similar situations. Once the match is determined by the parents, the girl begins her work. She is asked to communicate with the boy and for this IMs are used. This eventually leads to phonecalls and that pretty much seals the deal. Then eventually, the boy shows up, they have a nikah (for the immigration paperwork) and then he leaves. She does not leave with him but waits for the immigration etc to come through. Then they have a fancy wedding and off she goes into foreign realms. Wow.

Other people who do not submit to this growing trend, tend to think about their futures differently. They take great pains to be educated and usually get themselves through school to be eligible for study abroad. If they miss deadlines for scholarships, they try other means – work for a few years and manage to pay one year’s tuition and then freelance to get through the whole thing. Then they come back and are ridiculed by the HEC. They are also ridiculed by aunties and young girls aspiring to be aunties. They are told they have missed the bus, the train and the plane. There is no future for them. They are sniggered at, gossiped about and some well-meaning aunties even direct them towards websites that will help them out of their misery.

Meanwhile, they (being cool cats) sit back and watch with much amusement, as girls clamor for those perfect proposals. There is always an upside to missing the bus (train and plane) – you get watch people make utter and complete fools of themselves.

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3 responses to “Shaadi Dot Com

  1. i know that i am putting this on every blog, but yes it is important, i need your prayers just once 😛
    so read this and also tell about the template http://tiny.cc/ctngs

    and do follow me, so that we share some ideas when i come back 😛

  2. Very ryt.
    Till now, my three 1st cousins got married and all three of them are sitting abroad, and they were well educated from this country.

    • I’m sure they believe they have done their best and have achieved something in their lives. It’s a matter of perspective. In my sarcasm, I am sometimes inconsiderate – perhaps, these women are happy. After all, being happy is what counts, right? To each their own.

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