Whoever said marriages are made in heaven hasn’t read matrimonial columns. The other day when I spread the Classifieds section sheet of the newspaper at the bottom of the cupboard, a matrimonial ad for a ‘wheatish, legally divorced “girl” with no issues’ caught my eye. Interesting, I told myself. I couldn’t think of a legally divorced girl (can one be illegally divorced?) not having any issues; surely the divorce had come through because of certain issues? I settled down to a close examination of the whole section.
Wheatish, in case you are in the dark about this, is the Indian euphemism for ‘dark.’ The expression sounds exciting and mysterious, bringing to mind sultry beauties like Cleopatra but is actually a clever coinage that masks racism with political correctness. Many Indians mouth glib platitudes such as ‘black is beautiful’ and airily support ‘Dark is Beautiful’ campaigns, but show their true colours when it comes to choosing life partners for their children.
Such an Indian scouts for a prospective daughter-in-law who is tall, fair and lovely, but when he tweaks the archetypal tall, dark, handsome Mills and Boon hero’s qualities to seek a tall, fair and handsome bridegroom with a monthly six-figure salary for his dusky and plain daughter, the description offered for the latter is ‘wheatish, of a healthy build, normal height and attractive in a homely way.’
Marriage is serious, hard-nosed business in our country, with ‘business’ being the operative word. Take the words and phrases used in connection with arranging a match – the marriage market, an offer, an alliance, ads in papers or magazines, meetings, requirements, demands, negotiations for gold, cash and real estate that sound suspiciously like collateral security, formal viewing of the party (the product?) and a final interview – well, you get my meaning.
I once heard a foreigner observe that the arranged marriage concept prevalent here intrigued her. Though she wasn’t in favour of it, she admitted it had its advantages. ‘If we don’t find the right person we end up as old maids, but for you people there are many options available. You don’t have to find yourself on the shelf unless you opt for it.’
The traditional marriage broker has taken a backseat while matrimonial websites and the newspaper ad option have become the favoured means of striving to keep oneself from the loneliness of the shelf. Talking of shelves, what could be the shelf life for a prospective bride/groom? A look at the paper revealed that age is actually no bar. Men well over sixty continue to be hopeful while admirable, risk-oriented women in their forties and fifties seek companionship through matrimony.
Some are careful to declare they neither have nor desire encumbrances, blissfully unaware of the irony in the statement. One man confesses he is divorced but his only child lives permanently with his ex-wife while a lady asserts she is an innocent divorcee, whatever that might mean.
Interestingly, even when seeking late or second and third marriages, the demand is, with rare exceptions, for spouses of their own community.
In fact almost all ads begin by stating religion and caste with a few waiving sub-sect as a great concession to broad-mindedness, while many give importance to the horoscope.
Very often it is the parents who seek alliances and call the shots. I noticed the recurrence of a demand for grooms with ‘clean habits.’ I suspect it doesn’t mean a man who has a daily bath, wears clean clothes and brushes his teeth twice a day but is another euphemism for one who doesn’t have a weakness for wine, cigarettes, drugs and women, with the exception, of course, of the ‘well-mannered, god-fearing girl’ his parents plan to foist on him.
The priorities are religion, age, looks, professional and economic background, emoluments and moral uprightness, in that order. When will we see an ad that speaks the truth, one that could go like this- ‘Wanted: a patient, rich spouse with healthy genes, negative blood group, well-paid, steady job and a generous nature who is also a good cook and housekeeper for a swarthy, stocky, balding, quick-tempered forty-year-old man of O negative blood group, a genetic pre-disposition to obesity, diabetes and cardiovascular illness, who can’t hold a job and seeks to live off her. Matrimonially yours.’
khyrubutter@yahoo.com
(A fortnightly column by the city-based writer, academic and author of the Butterfingers series.)
