I was the very definition of a wild child. Anyone who met me for the first time would find it hard to believe that I hail from a wealthy, extremely orthodox family. I had no time for classical dance or music, something that my younger sister and brother were well-versed in. I preferred jeans and faded T-shirts to the elegant silk salwars that my mother wore. Although I was present at every pooja we had in the house, I was never an active participant. I was loud, brash and the life of every college party. I did everything in my power to distance myself from the girl I was expected to be.
All my tactics worked till the day my parents decided to consult an astrologer recommended by a family friend. On a balmy September day, he dealt a death blow to all my dreams of living large and finding love in my own time. “Your eldest daughter has to get married by the end of this year. If she does not, your younger daughter will have a very short-lived marriage. Her husband will die soon, making her a young widow, or they will divorce within a year,” he predicted.
As expected, my mother burst into tears. My father, as stoic as ever, curtly nodded at the astrologer, thanked and paid him for his advice and saw him off at the door. Turning to me, he said, “Amma and I will give you a choice of boys. The sooner you decide, the more time you will have to get to know the person.” That was it. All my pretensions of being an independent, wilful, 26-year-old woman crumbled.
And so the parade of matrimonial profiles and photos began. I had to quit my job; how soon to get married was now my full-time occupation. The pressure was relentless; even before I selected the man I was to marry, the marriage hall was booked. A month after the hunt had begun, I finally decided to give it a shot with one guy who seemed the most interesting of the lot. We began chatting online, moved to text and then to hour-long conversations on the phone. We seemed compatible, and our families got along. Things moved quickly after that, and soon we tied the knot in a grand celebration.
We moved into a large flat in an upmarket neighbourhood, fully-furnished and paid for by my parents. I started working again and he travelled a lot on business. It was hard work, living with someone I hardly knew. Little things would escalate into week-long arguments. The differences that seemed so minor now took on gargantuan proportions. So we tried counselling, and I moved back to my parents’ home for a while, but we are now back together and trying to make this work.
The astrologer predicted how my sister’s life would be if I got married, but he never mentioned what it would hold for me.
