Arranged Marriage

So I've been doing some writing recently because I have been...emotionally charged! Yes yes yes! You read right!

I am working on an untitled piece about arranged marriages, which is an ordeal I am going through right now. I'm not quite finished with it, and this is the introduction to the first draft. I have changed and exaggerated certain incidents to inject humor.

Hope you like it.

DRAFT ONE

Relationships never came easily to me. For most of my teenage and adult life, I have been plagued with the unenviable gift of picking out the worst possible men to ever walk the earth. If Carrie had her share of Mr. Big, then multiply her grief by at least a hundred. That would be how much I have gone through in all my relationships.

My parents, unable to tolerate the drama that kept unfolding in front of their eyes, decided that it was time for some old fashioned intervention. Now their idea of “intervention” translates into “arranged marriage”. When I discovered that my initial tight-lipped approach failed to work, I took to ignoring them. When they persisted despite the cold shoulder, I shed crocodile tears consciously dabbing the corners of my eyes. My play of emotions failed to soften their hearts, and I finally took to my bed weeping and wailing. A towel was unceremoniously tossed in my direction and I was told that it was unladylike behavior for a young woman who was about to get married. The choice was ultimately mine – get hitched or stay single forever.

So while at the age of twenty and four, I was running my own department and fiercely focused on career, my mother scouted matchmaking agencies for suitable boys. Within a week, the matchmaking bureau in proof of their efficiency and high success rate, faxed over a list of potential husbands for my mother's perusal. Mind you, I was not at all involved in this process, and my required input was minimal. Furthermore, the agency recommended that my parents initiate any contact, which meant that they would screen the candidate by speaking to his parents. I scoffed inwardly. That would not guarantee my future security. For all I knew, parents covered for their children all the time, the guy could turn out to be a total psycho and I would only find out after the wedding.

My parents set out to integrate me respectably into Indian society - by singling out single boys to relieve me of my singleness. In the past, being single had its disadvantages, but the raw clarity of the circumstance cut through me like poison racing through my bloodstream. Suddenly, I wanted to be anywhere but here.