“Tring, tring”…the landline phone rang….Maa cried to me “ Piku, can you pick up the phone please, I think it is Buri Pishi”….(Pishi in Bengali means paternal aunt)….i was dozing off on a lazy Saturday afternoon…anyways somehow picked myself up & held the telephone. “Yes Pishi”, “tor maa ke phoneta de” (pass the telephone to your mom).Mom was already standing beside me & then the conversation began….from what I could gather was it was Buri Pishi’s elder son “Sona Dada’s” (Dada means elder brother in Bengali) marriage getting fixed & we were getting invited for the reception in April to Kolkata. “Book tickets darling, we just have 1 month to go, you know the status in IRCTC these days”. “Anyways we need to pay something extra to the tout”. Mom said to me while keeping down the receiver.
“April ...you mean to say right”? “Yeah “came her spontaneous reply. “Starting of the financial year & you want me to take a leave”. “Social responsibilities beta”, pat came the reply. “You cannot avoid them”. “I would suggest write an application to your boss that you would be on leave for 7 days”.
My only reluctance of going to the wedding was not that it was the start of the financial year, not that my monthly sales target would not be achieved, not that it was sultry, hot & humid in Kolkata, the only issue was “QUESTIONS”. In my mother’s words ‘questions arising out of social responsibility”. I was standing a year to go to “trente” (Thrawnte –in French, meaning ‘thirty”). Aged 29, I was 5 feet 5 inches, weighing 50 kilos, looked more like a delhite, but very “ban-ga-li” from heart. You make me wear a sari or Jumpsuit, I never looked my age. I drove my Tata safari, went to the gym, joined swimming, partied, wrote & essentially brought business to my organization. I was “Sales Head” of a top MNC in Gurgaon handing a team of 30 members in the north zone. I was “HAPPY GO LUCKY’ chirpy, bubbly, humorous, loved make up & perfumes, had a passion for travelling & the best part was “single”.
My my…single…the FIRST QUESTION- “So Srabani, when are you getting Piku married?” The one question I always hated from the deepest bottom of my heart”. This was the only question “Social responsibility people – Relatives” in other words had to ask whenever I paid a visit to them. I knew this day Buri Pishi’s invitation had come. “It is very obvious beta”mom’s reply used to be ready.
The same happened at “Sona Dada’s” reception too. I had got myself a beautiful creamish kanjeevaram for the wedding. Every social responsibility venue – new set of faces. No wonder mom’s list of relatives was never ending- quite a large pedigree you see. “
“Ooo maa koto boro hoye gechis, koto boyesh holo re Srabani tor meyer” (Oh my God, she has grown up so much, what is your daughter’s age Srabani?)
This was another most hated query “QUESTION NO :2”.
Uggggghhhhh….all my smile used to vanish, & I used to melt in the crowd. Srabani was my mother’s name. Some of my relatives were quite morally aware of their social responsibilities for mom & her family.
Hence they used to walk the extra mile in getting “a suitable Boy” for me. In typical Bengali households, the mother of the “suitable boy” is the first & prominent decision maker” if she likes your mother & your family & foresees her requirements of an “ideal bouma’ (ideal daughter-in-law) in you is getting fulfilled, Bingo! You cross your first hurdle.
Similar experiences happened with me too.
“Tring tring”.Again the phone rang. “Hello! Is it Mrs. Srabani Bhattacharya?”….i could gauge it was the mother of a “suitable boy “on the other side.” Yes” & I handed over the phone to mom….as mom started speaking I could firmly make out the conversation. Conclusively it came out as this. Initially she spoke of her family, the cultural heritage that her family has, her husband, her son &daughters, her well off social hiatus, her house in Kolkata.
But boy came Question no: 3 -”aapnar meye forsha to “(is your girl fair?) “Ha, ha” another one in my hatred list.
”Ujjwal shamborna “(wheatish) came my mother’s reply.
”Ohhhhh! Mota noi to?” (Ohhh! hope she is not fat) was Question no-4 on the other end.
“Huhhhhhh! Why don’t you figure out on your own? Her Jeevansathi ID is RWT1234”. By that time mom had already become irritated.
“Haan Haan, sure”, was the reply from other side.
“Aapnar jodi bhalo laage aapni janaben” (If you like the profile let us know please.) mom replied.
“In the meanwhile, can you please send a bio data of your son?” “He does not have a bio data.” “OK, then any matrimonial profile ID?” “Yeah he has, please hold on let me ask his father, or probably I shall SMS you.” “Fine, mom kept down the phone.”
“Ping Ping”…the mobile buzzed after an hour. The SMS had come from the Ganguly’s.
“Check out the profile”, mom told me passing over the nokia 1110 handset. As per practice, I logged into jeevansathi.com & found the profile of Mr. Rupesh Ganguly. Engineer by profession, working in Noida, 5 feet 7 inches, dark complexion, and annual compensation 10 lakhs.
“He is a little bald & looked older than his age”. I sobbed. “Never mind Piku, let’s talk it out. If everything goes well, we shall look into the matter.” I shut down the system nodding my head.
Next day was Monday & I reached office late. Pop! My gtalk said, as I was busy making monthly reports. “You have a new chat request from Rupesh Ganguly”
Ahem! Ahem! Accepted.
After the few rounds of occasional “Hi- Hola’s, started the conversation. “So you live alone? “4th hated question. “How does that make a difference?” I murmured to myself. “Anyways I am not going to call you at my place.” “Nopes, with parents.” “Ahuh”.
Official information got exchanged & then was the 5th query “So, any boyfriend”? I felt like closing the chat window. “How stupid can a person be to ask such a question”- If I had a boyfriend, why on earth would I look for an option of arranged marriage. Secondly even if had one, why should I admit that in front of a stranger? Ridiculous! I murmured….can’t be guys normal? Why do they act so weird when they have to talk to a girl on the pretext of marriage?
I came home that day & lamented it to mom. She kept on smiling & urged me to act neutral. I acted accordingly & treated him to be a suspect client – as per my sales profession. By then, Gtalk chats had moved up to mobile texts & since weekend was nearing, the guys overflowing interest to meet me followed. By this time, I could gather this much information from him that he had a house in Noida, he owned a Ford Figo, had a super busy office, few set of friends, never liked Delhi but job made him shift here & the most important part- he would first like to go round with the girl for 6 months & then decide on marriage.
“F*** off”!! Was my instant reply. Hell to do with this suspect. “Look at yourself man!” “You are 30 with half grey hairs, petite body, paunch in front, receding hairline, staying alone in Noida”. And you want that the girl is available for you with no social tie up (no roka, no ashirvad). In a society which has imbibed western culture so impressively, where night outs start in 16 years & S** is no longer a taboo before marriage, you expect to get married after 6 months. I know I was talking my emotions out, but so were the confessions at thirty. You seem to be a big social responsibility to your family & relatives, more than you parents your relatives are worried, instead of finding out a solution, they make you more as “gossip substance”….they provide you with prospects (“suitable Boys”).
Suitable boys’ mother’s have their own requirements. They want a “fair, slim, working, yet homely girl with good cultural principles’….even though their son doesn’t seem to be a 20 percent fit, then you have guys who pop up in your lives asking you whether you are single, if single whether you live alone or not & if you live alone, are you open to have fun or not?
“Thirty “was a figure, rather an age which always appealed to me since I finished my MBA from Xaviers, Pune. Thirty was the number; it was the threshold by which I had planned to have my second car, a new house, some good bank balance, a sturdy job in a top MNC & a mark in myself. I had achieved all that by then, except for the fact that I cannot handle “social responsibilities” any more…so here I am, writing down my confessions. Confessions when you reach the threshold of thirty in an Indian society, when you want to be on your own, you want to reach those stars, get your dreams fulfilled, you are overburdened with the “harbingers of social customs”- THE PEOPLE – Marriage in India has always been pressured on the girl. Even though we now have grown, matured & evolved, I fail to see the educated Indian in society; you still talk & behave as it was three decades back. Worse still, the young generation guy who wears western clothes, hears more of Britney Spears, cannot think of life without a cellphone, treats friends @ McDonalds, has nights outs & has 3 girlfriends by the age of 18, actually hasn’t changed a bit in his thoughts. Maybe I sound biased, with no intention of hurting the alpha male, whatever I have written here is my true experience. I have confessed every thought that has flashed & disturbed me, my existence of being a woman, an educated, successfully, socially, morally responsible woman. Hope every girl will like it and every boy will think about it…..
.jpg "Iskcon, Mayapur, West Bengal")
