It Is Wedding Time, Folks!!!

Choti Mata’s Note: Wedding season. Biological clock. And Choti Mata is so not married at the moment. Or planning to. Do I need to say more?

Tick Tock Tick Tock.

Hear that! That is a biological clock ticking. My biological clock.

Never mind that I am still hovering around my mid-twenties—side notwithstanding. Never mind that the general consensus is that I have very well regressed to my mid-teens. Or that I never actually left my mid teens behind. The consensus is not sure.

For some not so weird reason, the decibel levels of this ticking are raised exponentially during the wedding season. Like right now. Probably because everyone on my FB wall is getting married. And that is just a minor exaggeration.

To be honest, I feel absolutely happy for all of them. They are taking the big leap towards their ‘happily ever after’, assuming that something like that exists. Also, pigs fly.

Anyway, weddings mean good wedding food to hog on and I don’t see anything to complain about. Except of course if I am totally ignoring the comparative magnification of my single status in the season—strictly for the clock hearing crowd that is. Following the ideal of 'ignorance is bliss' is an actual art—and I am getting pretty good at it.

Just to clarify, there is nothing wrong with the idea of getting married. And since I have always been a huge critique of bigotry in every form, I think it is as inappropriate to judge people for getting married as it is to judge them for not getting married. Everyone operates within his or her own comfort zone and is totally entitled to live out their idea of a good life. And for the record, quite a few of my friends got married pretty early and seem to be doing great. The relevant point here is not the timing. It is the fact that they got married not because some stupid clock said they had to. They got married because they wanted to—were ready for it. 

Which is the bottomline that everyone seems to be totally missing.

In any case, as far as I am concerned, in my limited understanding, there is actually no reason for the clock to panic. There is still time. I guess the clock is pretty much aware of this. It is the people who can ‘hear it’ tick that seem to have a problem.

Contrary to the popular belief, I totally understand the importance of this so called clock as much as I understand the relevance of the idea of doing everything at the right time. I do realize that it is indeed a colossal stupidity to consciously 'tempt the clock' and invite health risks for yourself as well as any other poor being that you just might have been assigned to bring into the World. I understand this fact. I respect this fact.

What I don’t understand is the need to transcend all reasonableness and sense of purpose to give this clock the absolute supremacy. Especially when it concerns what I presume is the literal make or break decision of our lives. To rush into alliances or be rushed into it, just because you got a damn timeline to meet. I presumed it would be a no-brainer that one doesn’t play the stakes of life on deadlines or panic attacks.

Apparently, in this country, they do.

In this country where getting every single woman of marriageable age in the vicinity married is a national obsession. I sometimes really want to know what part of ‘my’ in ‘my marriage’ is so incomprehensible for everyone.  

You walk on two legs. You are not an ape. You are above 21. Get married.

You walk on two legs. You are not an ape. You are above 18. You have female parts. Get the hell married right now!

The fact that you might not be financially, emotionally or psychologically ready for it is irrelevant. That you may not be ready or willing to take up the challenges and responsibilities that entail marital life is pointless. That you, God forbid, may not want to marry at all is sacrilegious and inconceivable.

The point is I am not getting all moony eyed about my knight on a horse—which is obvious because (a) the chances of that much touted knight turning out to be a chauvinist jackass are quiet high—after all he is the figment of a chauvinist imagination which involves damsel in distress. Definitely not designed for damsels causing distress and (b) I am an educated, liberated woman, thank you very much. Chances are I find a man with a pen much sexier than one with the horse…or that white ginny from Honey Singh’s video. Not that I have anything against Lamborghinis…but its owner’s intellect still takes precedence in my list of preference.

So, I do not harbor impossible romantic fantasies. But I do have a fair idea of what I want from my life and from the one I intend to share it with, if at all. The marriage fanatics out there need to wrap their heads around the idea of choice and understand that if I or for that matter anyone in the marriageable age bracket is single, it is because either they are not ready to exercise this choice or they haven’t been able to find someone to exercise it for. And in doing so, they are neither being unreasonable nor immature. Even if they are, it is their life—I think they have the right to ruin it. That would any day be better than having it ruined because they married under pressure for all the wrong reasons and earned a life time of regret—all because they did not get to exercise their choice or intuition or anything else for that matter.

Biological clock is important. Trust me, it may not look like it, but most of us are trying really hard to abide by it. If for some reason we don’t, there is a good chance that it is because we are trying to avoid a disaster which at least we think is bigger than busting a clock. We may be wrong, but you must know that we have the best intentions. It is our life after all. It is better this way. Our life, our choice, our consequences.

In the end, however, reasoning is rarely an option. So my Mother, who by the way, is extremely cool and is the reason why my unmarried life so far has been happy and incident free, actually came up with an interesting strategy. A brilliant tactical masterstroke, if you ask me. So for anyone who pesters her about my marriage, she has a standard response, *ominous tone alert* “A panditji said, do not marry her early…not okay according to her Kundali!”

See, brilliant!

Because in India, a good wedding reception dinner is worth messing up with a couple of human lives. But God forbid, if those planets are involved. Humans lives, after all, are dispensable. But astrology—that is sacred. No wonder, Mother manages to shut them up every single time.

The final word however is from another really cool member of my family, my brother. This is what he has to say on the matter, “If you get married tomorrow, I support you. If you get married at 30, I support you. If you get married at 40, I support you. You plan on not getting married, I support you”

With awesome brother like that around, who cares for the clock…or for that matter, anything else!

Dear Society, watch and learn. This is how it is done!