The Poetics of Prospectives.

I have never been a believer of arranged marriages. I am often left in shock when people living in the age of the Ipod, agree to serenely marry the one their parents from the transistor radio generation hunts down for them.

How do they agree to it?

Its not like my parents never tried. There were neighbours' sons who were engineers and doctors and then there was this dopey looking guy who owned a company that manufactured anti-acne cream. These guys often seemed to me to be already 'settled' in their lives with their high profile jobs and hospital emergencies and anti-acne sales. They did not seem like they wanted me in their lives to be 'settled'.

And then once there was this other guy who had so many pock marks on his face, I half suggested he marry the anti-acne guy!!

I guess if I was forcibly 'made' to marry someone I have never 'partied' with, there would have been some kind of violent assault involved and lots of loudly uttered obscenities. But my father, an otherwise certified tyrant, was as benign as milk chocolate when it actually came to giving me away. I guess dads have this thing for their daughters.

Of course it is a battle of wits and the 'which guy happens to be better' kind of talk for decades before the dust settles and you do too. It lasts longer than eternity actually. Sometimes even now in the early morning quiet, i hear my father arguing about my love interest. It was his favourite subject, apart from politics and my brother's job.

My father, merely based on some 1920's principle, or some strange genetic disposition, disliked any man I presented before him as a prospective son-in-law. If the guy had a good job, was from a decent family, and his parents had agreed, my father felt he was too tall for me or his teeth were not right !!

My mom on the other hand treated any male friend of mine as a prospect. Which never actually worked in my favour either. She would shower them with sweet talk and onion pakodas and ask him about his parents and I would be left making weird noises 'ahem-ing', trying to give her a hint that he is 'just a friend'.

As an afterthought I suppose my mom was more perceptive.

I did end up marrying someone who I had introduced as 'just a friend'!! (who said I follow rules?)