“Aur ummm.. aunty _____ aap ke baare mein puch rahi thi, unkey beti bhi mujhe achi lagti hai..”

I let out a loud sigh, my face dismissing the rest of my mother’s suggestion with a look of exhausted annoyance. My mind automatically recalled the proverbial “arranged marriage girl” image that had remained unchanged since being entered into what I like to call the Rishta Entry Draft. It wasn’t an image as much as a blank white canvas, really. Nonetheless, it reflected the brushes of quietness, simplicity, and innocence; the three virtues my mom believes combine to make the perfect wife (or is it daughter-in-law?). In this image, there was no colour, no texture, no story, and no life, for I hadn’t bothered to consider them. After failing to attract my attention with claims of beauty and intelligence, my mother decided to give me a name, correctly assuming that my curiosity would get the best of me. Days later when it occurred to me, I searched for her name on Facebook, and scored. Confirming my mom’s rundown, she went to my campus and we had a mutual family friend. Then it hit me like an aftershock. She didn’t wear a hijab, she seemed to have a very healthy social life, and if I chose my victims based on looks alone, I may have messaged her in another lifetime. Then, another, slower aftershock. She wasn’t the “arranged marriage girl” I was expecting. While browsing through her, I guess we’ll say interesting profile and pictures, along with the contrast of expectation that I carried, it was easier to understand and appreciate the values my mom aimed to secure for me, albeit probably missing the mark on this particular occasion.

I must concede that in my rebellion against arranged marriage, I became hostage to the same ignorance I claimed to be turning my back to. While I still find certain approaches to arranged marriage nothing short of insane, it’s easy to forget the good intentions that are very much there. After the above episode, it occurred to me that I wasn’t opposed to the idea, but the process, and by process, I mean the families involved. I think the pressure and expectation of a family is far too heavy to drag along during the first, fragile steps of a relationship. If I choose to walk down that road, my idea of an ‘arranged’ marriage that makes sense is perhaps approaching my mom in a year and confessing that I ended up falling for one of her innocent suggestions. Any such development would combine the genuine freedom and comfort of choosing our own partner with the supposed convenience that is built into an arranged marriage. Like many possibilities in life, the ideal scenario lies somewhere in the middle. While everyone will have their own ideals and ideas regarding this, I hope I’ve come closer to finding mine on an issue that I’m sure most of my friends and I will have to deal with eventually.

Now then, dear mother.. how about the rest of those names?

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