M for Money. M for Marriage.

Just like grocery, food, cosmetics, clothes, house, car and much else we care to buy for a living, there’s another item available for sale, especially in markets in Kerala. It’s an auction of sorts, where the highest bidder gets the privilege of taking the item home after a grand handing-over ceremony.

You’ll know what I’m talking about if/when you’re between 21 & 25, finished your graduation / post-graduation, Syrian Christian (SC), eligible spinster hailing from Kerala (esp Thiruvalla, Kottayam, Pathanamthitta Districts)… ready to hit the market (at least that’s when it all begins!).

The Sunday Matrimonial columns bring them in.

Grooms Wanted: 21 yr old, white (a point to note!), good looking (could have contested for Miss Universe!), SC girl of medium height (meaning 4’ 9’’ or 5’6” or somewhere in between?), in Kottayam, seeks TDH boy (as in Tall, Dark & Handsome or Tom, Dick & Harry) with good qualification (read Engineer or Doctor) and good job (read Government job, Bank job or working in the Gulf).

Brides Wanted: 28 yr old, 185 cms tall, handsome SC boy, working as Manager in reputed Oil Company in the Gulf, seeks fair, beautiful and well educated girl, preferably a Nurse / Teacher (point to be noted), having sound family background (read cash-rich).

There is a spate of calls, in response. Half of which could be people from the newspaper desk to prove that their paper indeed brings response. Quarter of which could be dimwits who don’t get the details in the ad right. And the other quarter may or may not work (it’s like a weather forecast…it may or may not rain).

The brokers are worse. It’s like setting up a blind date. The difference is, the date here is usually between parents. And the main factor discussed (apart from exchanging courtesies) is how much money and gold can the bride’s family cough up in exchange for their son.

Then come in the views of the extended family and friends. The grandparents, aunts and uncles (who you didn’t know existed until then), friends and well-wishers (you know what I mean!). They step out of their way to offer their assistance or give their opinion on matters (even without asking).

Once upon a time, I was this eligible spinster on a vacation to my maternal grandparent's house in a small town called Ranny, in Kerala. It's a beautiful place, kinda uphill with winding roads and rubber plantations on either side. I was 24 then, and my grandfather started checking the matrimonial column and calling the eligible bachelor boys' families frantically, from the day I landed. I was witness to one of the ugliest nature of haggling in the marriage market.

Excerpts of a telecon I overheard...
Appachan (Grandpa): I'm so and so, and you? (Establishing credentials). [They find some common connection and the next couple of minutes is dedicated to telecon in that direction. Then resumes...] What does your son do? My granddaughter is here for a few days. Why don't you drop in today or tomorrow and see her?

In the backdrop:
Me (Panic button on): Mom, let's get out of here quick! I didn't come here to buy myself a buddy boy.
Mom(hushes me up): Relax. You have to get married some day or the other.

On the other end of the telephone (on speaker phone, so we get to hear the atrocious conversation, loud and clear):
Lady(Thankfully not my mother-in-law!): My son is an engineer in KSEB. You know, sound Government job, getting a fat cheque and all! So how much are you ready to give?

In the backdrop:
Me (With my jaws wide open and my eyes ready to pop out): What? Is she out of her mind? What does she mean, how much we are ready to give?
Mom (hushes me up again): Quiet. That's the way marriage aliances work.
Me: Hmmph..I think I'll rather stay a spinster!

Back to the telecon:
Appachan (Keeping his composure): They're just 2 daughters, the elder girl is married off and is abroad. So, you know...(and trails off).
Lady (She's lucky I'm not her daughter-in-law or I would have probably wrung her neck): 10 lakhs, nothing less!

In the backdrop:
Me (ready to swoon at this outrageous demand for money, and swearing under my breath!)

On the telephone:
Appachan: I suggest you first come and see the girl and if you like her and everything goes well, we'll get to money matters.
Lady (Shamelessly desperate to make money at somebody else's expense) If you're ready to give 10 lakhs, we'll come.

Appachan turns in our direction, we nod our head left to right to express our disapproval.

Back on phone:
Appachan: We'll think about it...

Beep, beep. End of call. End of alliance. I returned home after the vacation feeling heavier, full of questions. How could anyone demean themselves asking a total stranger blatantly for something they do not deserve? Do they consider their son a product for sale in the marriage market? Where the auction starts at 10 lakhs and the highest bidder becomes the bride? Is that the price value they've given their son? Isn't human life worth a lot more, above currency value? The questions remain. The practice remains. And boys are preferred over girls.

PS: Since asking for dowry is against the law, people think they outsmart the legal system, by asking for the "share" of the girl! Such people need to be lined up and asked to shoot themselves, because what they commit is a bastardly and shameless act of daylight robbery!

Ladies and Ladaas, I rest my case.

Points to note:
1. White - Fair complexion (In Kerala it is 'nice colour', white or black)
2. Nurse / Teacher - There's a big demand for nurses, as it is a free ticket abroad. Nurses from Kerala rake in big moolah in the US, Europe and the Middle East. Teachers in Government Schools in Kerala are also in demand in the marriage market. Government job, easy money, plenty vacation!

I am 16, going on 16+17

At 16, I thought the world was all about me. I felt very important, and I was actually considered quite mature for a teenager. I didn’t worry about trivial things. I was the happy-go-lucky kind, happy with life and everything around. Maybe I was lucky after all, because there were kids with real problems. I didn’t have any cares in this world. Just home, school, family, friends…and of course, the all important ‘me’.

At 16+4, a Math & Physics graduate, aiming to be a fighter pilot in the Indian Air Force, but as destiny would have it otherwise, I was lost at the crossroads, wondering which way the life-full-of-promises was awaiting me. Advertising. A marked deviation from Science obviously, but I couldn’t imagine myself as an academician or a scientist, and I thought the only other thing that I could do was write. So I set out. I had to do something after all, coz there was no such thing as a free meal!

At 16+8, I was an accomplished copywriter, on my own two feet. A few of us got together to start up an ad agency. The very first year saw a huge turnover. Then one fine day, it so happened that one of the lead guys got an assignment abroad (a call from his previous agency which he couldn’t refuse), another guy – a printing engineer got an appointment as professor in a reputed institution (he would have been a fool if he’d turned it down), one lady had to join her family who had just then moved to Dubai (again, no choice there) and then myself…well, I got married (the timing couldn’t have been better, or I would have perhaps been at the crossroads again!). Each of us went our own way. The success story came to an abrupt end. (The agency was open for a couple of years after that, but finally wound up, is what I heard). I wasn’t the typical ‘stay-at-home, cook-and-clean-for-pati (husband)’ patni (wife), but my hubby wasn’t the typical pati either. He gave me my space. I gave him his. And we shared a space that was truly special.

At 16+10, I was working on big brands in an Ad Agency in Bombay. Then, I had my first baby. For a year I stayed at home and enjoyed the just-turned-mother phase thoroughly. I continued working from home though (man, was I raking in the moolah!). But I was already pining to get back to full time work! With a baby in my arms, I heard school and college kids referring to me as “aunty”! Mama was fine, but “aunty” was something I was yet to get used to!

At 16+12, I moved down south with family. Worked hard, partied harder. Bought a house. We were on the fine line, balancing work and home. But found quality time, however sparse, to spend with family. I used to cook back then. And it showed. My husband lost a good 8-10 kilos and I was ‘skinny legs and all’. I got used to “aunty”, grrrr…udgingly.

At 16+15, I had my second baby. Not an easy pregnancy, I must tell you. A hiatus of 3 months from work. At home, enjoying the mother-again phase. It felt nice every time the baby smiled. I coochy-cooed, giggled and played with her. Felt like a baby myself. However, the career woman had to get back to work after the maternity leave, leaving the poor child sucking on lactogen. Youngsters fresh out of college were showing up at work. A good ‘decade’ younger than I. I realize I’m now full time “patni”, “mama”, “ma’am” and “aunty”, but enjoying every single responsibility fully well.

At 16+17, here I am, singing ‘I am 16, going on 16+17’ (Remember Sound of Music?). My kids help keep the child in me alive. I still feel as good as 16. Though now my world means – My kids, hubby, the rest of my family & friends, myself, and then anybody else who matters to me in this world, in that precise order!

I remember, when I was about 22 years old, I thought 28 was old. When I was 28, I thought 32 was old. But now I’m thinking, ‘old’ is only in the ‘thinking’. If you think you are young, you are forever young. That reminds me of my all time favourite song - Bob Dylan’s ‘May you stay forever young’.

“May your hands always be busy,
May your feet always be strong,
May you stay…forever young!”