Skip to main content

Arrange marriage or slave trade, What would you prefer?

Now, if you have read my blog for some time now, you obviously know that when I am not doing fruitless research on stupid theories or planning another mission to blow off the planet, I am busy wasting my time playing games or swyping across my Android.

As a simple man with a complex taste, I carry the agenda, 'Leave and do not disturb if you want to live' but as nature will have it, there will always be someone or the other who decides to check if its ok to poke sleeping dragon and well, end up cursing me loud or carrying heavy burns on his head and mind with my horrible theories.

So there I was sitting peacefully destroying the terrorist camp, again on Dust II (the counter strike edition, you mortals) when he came out of nowhere, now I should tell you, that the person who popped on me was the man of the moral brigade with a capital M. I sometimes wondered if he is the reincarnation of the conscience I abandoned long back or just a eccentric fool who was hit on the head when he was a child. Doesn't actually make any difference.

'I did not like her,' he said.
'Like who?'
'The girl my parents chose for me,' he said.
'Congratulations,' I said, sarcastically, now you will stay virgin for another eternity.
'The girl was nice,' oh dear, he is still talking, 'But she wants to work after marriage...'
His cribbing was not going to stop for a while and the disturbance was spoiling my reputation on the CS underworld, so I politely messaged people AFK (Away from keyword) and turned my attention to the other terrorist in my room.

'What is wrong with it?' I asked, 'If she wants a career, who are you to stop her?'
'Why, I am her husband no?' he replied, 'I do deserve the right to tell her what to do and what not to do...'
'I think you missed a century dude,' I corrected, 'Slave trade was legal in the last millennium, not now...'
'Its not slave trade,' he replied, 'She is my wife, she shares equal rights over house hold.'
'So you will sweep the house with her?' I asked.
'No... that she has to do, it is her duty as a wife.'
'So a girl you are getting will sweep your house, wash your clothes, cook food for you and is not allowed to do any other occupation...' I summarized, 'Pretty much sounds like a slave trade.'
'No its not that,' he tried to reason, 'She gets my salary, she takes care of me and my family, just like my mother did for so many years.'
'So you are happy that you mom acted like a slave to your family for so many years and now you are replacing her with another one?'
'The slave traders atleast sold the slave to other people, here she has to serve you for eternity. No growth opportunity too...'

'You are eccentric you know that?' he asked.
'So when are you meeting her?' I asked.
'My parents have met her grandmother, after they give approval, I am going to meet her parents...' he smiled.
'... So let me get this straight. You are going to spend your life with one person and you are going to meet everyone else in her family except that person?'
'Ofcourse not,' he said, 'I will meet her after I meet her parents.'
'Nice,' I beamed, finally something making sense, 'Meet her at CCD, its very nice joint for meeting...'
'No no no,' he screamed as if he was just sentence to murder, 'We do not have sanskar to meet girls outside, we will be meeting in her house in presence of the elders of the house.'
'Is that the reason why you did not talk to my girlfriend the other day?' I asked.
'Yes,' he replied, 'We carry our cultural tirades very well...'
'Thank God, I thought you had selective mutism and was going to admit you in mental hospital for psychiatric treatment...'
'You are crazy you know,' he replied, 'Indians have their sanskar...'
'... and also have social anxiety which then comes up during your work or your interaction with foreign clients. But the false sense of pride about a flawed culture prevents you from correcting yourself...' I simply replied, matter of fact.
'Don't tell me your argument, I know my culture...'
'What culture, tell me one story in Hinduism where God, princes, king had arrange marriage...' I asked simply.
'You know there this...' he paused, there was a big moment of awkward silence.
'So you see mister, arrange marriage is not part of your culture and marriage is not part of your life too, because you are a sadist pig, who is going to ruin someones life with your eccentric ideas of culture. Stop this slave trade in the name of  culture and go open your eyes to the real world.'

My game was over long back, with the terrorist beating my team with a big score, but somewhere I knew I had won a war that day.







P.s. Liked it? There is more to it, now you can buy the best of Sidoscope: Relationship articles for the price of one tweet, yes you heard it right, for the price of one tweet. Grab your copy today. Visit Books tab for more details. Do give your comments and suggestions of what other articles you wish to see in the book.

P.p.s. I have started making toons for my articles, did you like the concept?

Comments

  1. Very sensitive stuff this is .. I like it. I wish many more MEN think that women are no more slaves, not in any kind of relationship!

    ReplyDelete
  2. LOL...sounds pretty much like the story of every Indian...well, almost...its a wonder it still happens after centuries, the slave-trading thing I mean...but no guy would agree to it normally n u actually wrote about it..cool!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Seems like your friend actually skipped a century!!! :)

    ReplyDelete
  4. Centuries of conditioning... will take light years to change. Not that the conditioning has stopped: the big and small screens are working towards it... along with others of course!

    ReplyDelete
  5. I second what Amit said. Your friend is plain weird.
    And btw there are plenty of instances of arranged marriages when it comes to royalty. Akbar n Jodha Bai's alliance was an arranged one no? One based on political gains.

    ReplyDelete
  6. wow!!! so there are guys teleported from the last century hmmm

    ReplyDelete
  7. Great Post!! Sadly there are a lot of people who still exist in the stone age!!

    ReplyDelete
  8. Oh my, such people are chauvinistic chutiyas, man. Sorry for the cuss, but every time someone mentions a person like that to me, I want to cuss him and bash him up. Yep.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Very well written dude!!
    Agree,agree,agree!!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

What do you think about the post? Have your say, like, dislike or even hate me. Tell me.

You might also want to Subscribe to RSS feeds or follow me on Twitter (@sidoscope) or on facebook

I don't need weapon, I have a sharp tongue.

Popular posts from this blog

The moaning of life #2 Childhood Trauma

The entire shark family is out for a hunt, and the little fish are running for their life. We get to cheer as the Baby Shark does Doo Doo Doo Doo Doo with his family, calling on the family - extended family and sometimes robots on the 'hunt' because your offspring decides that that is the one song they want you to play or a tantrum follows. Many of you will say it's not the content but the catchy tune that draws the babies towards the nonsequential song, but it's more than that. It's the sheer repeatedness that draws your angst towards the piece. And YouTube provides the music based on how much time you want your baby to be engaged to it. You have a 60+ minute version and a 120+ minute version. The same shark family going out on the same hunt. And it's not just the Shark family. Weirdly, baby JJ and his family sing random songs, go on a holiday and even increase the family. I am talking about Cocomelon, which has arrived in your child's life as he murmurs t

[Short Story] Return

He walked the old dusty road again after so many years. He remembered the place very well, so many memories etched into his mind. The old forgotten dusty lane, which was never urbanized by any political agenda. The same old little house which stood the test of time for so many years. He remembered his last walk on this road. He was trying to prevent the flood flowing from his nose and running his sore bumps with his free hand. He knew this return was uncalled for, unexpected but it was the one he had to make. He did not know how she would react, would she still be happy on seeing him or will she even recognize him? The crumbled paper clutched in his hand was his identity for so many years. It was a his ticket to existence, his own. The bell was in his reach now, he was a few seconds away in uncovering the truth. If he wanted to turn back, this was the last threshold. Funny thing was, even after so many days, his hand shivered at this stage. Would he face her? Face

When your wife asks you if she is fat, is that a question or dharmasankat?

Sometimes in life, we are faced with problems much more difficult than the derivative equations in subject of Maths -3 of engineering (Yes, we have three subjects of Maths!!!). It took me three years to solve six of those problems, so when I say, more difficult than them, you get the idea. Consider this problem- you are walking in the mall, grudgingly ambling with your wife, still wondering at what point her purse climbed up on your shoulder, when she suddenly pops up the question, "Did you see her?" Now, you have seen 'her'. Every person in that mall has seen 'her'. She has painted her face for endless hours so that everyone will turn around and see her. Every man has seen wondering how lucky would someone be to be with her, every woman has seen her, wondering what does every man see her. And yet, the married man, in the infinite wisdom of surviving the marriage finds himself in the limbo of answering the question. There are two possible answer