“My
generation is commitment phobic Auntie, just look at us! No one wants to
marry.”
Simmar
gave Guncha a thoughtful look, taking in her merry wise youth, tinged with that
faintly fatigued resignation. Driving always relaxed her; put her in
a meditative trance. She guided the car, thoughts in tandem with its smooth
turns. There was no panic, she told herself, the Kathak performance they were
attending was nearly an hour away and there was Olivia to pick up from the Instituto
Hispania. She enjoyed engaging with her daughter’s group of diverse friends.
The Honda
flowed seamlessly with the traffic until their next stop. “Tell us about Spain
Olivia”, she queried of the newest entrant in the car. There was the slightest
pause as the Latino leaned back, having made herself comfortable in the rear
seat! “Well, it is the women who are ready to set up house and raise families
in Spain but the men will not bite. It is as though they do not want to grow up.
There are all these rovers, well into their middle years, chasing and winning
teenage girls. They see no incentive in committing to one person for life?!”
Guncha
was quick to retort, “In India, it is an institution still, in the slow process
of becoming elective of course. Most people my age are questioning it big time.
More and more, they will not marry just for the sake of marrying or because it
is the next stage in life. ”
Marvelling
at her luck in finding a vacant parking slot, Simmar eased the vehicle in and
the trio was soon enough settled on the red ply chairs over Paneer Kulchas at
the Auditorium canteen. “We have a half hour before the curtain rises, let’s
wait here for Sonal.” For a while, silence reigned, punctuated by appreciative
sounds of gastronomical delight. Simmar resumed the conversation, patting an
extra Kulcha down for her daughter Sonal, “So what do today’s young expect of
marriage?”
“I think
the men in my country are able to meet all their needs outside of marriage.
Either that or the unrealistically high expectations of marriage that appear to
call for too much effort,” Olivia prised the Kulcha open to peer into the
filling. Guncha sighed, turning at the sound of Sonal approaching, “There are
times I think arranged marriages were so much simpler.”
Plaintive
strains of the Sarangi began to pluck and nudge from inside
the hall at this pensive band.
They
waited for Sonal to settle in; she wanted chocolate powder on her coffee. “Ten
more minutes,” Simmar announced with that typical parental inflection.
“Maslow’s hierarchy of needs,” Sonal leaned forward, warming up to the subject
and the reheated Kulcha, “Mum, your parents were happy enough to pool in
resources; for you and Dad, it was companionship of sorts but for us matrimony
is nothing short of self-actualization. It is about self-expression, personal fulfilment,
core growth.”
“There
are these endless check boxes Auntie, chemistry, looks, books, music….almost as
though…well, let’s put it this way….we either want it all or none at all!”
Simmar
sighed, pushing back her chair. Her mind spun in sync with the dancer’s
pirouettes on stage. She turned in the dark to gaze over the three young heads
aligned next to her. Her heart quaked for them. She bit back the words, chewing
them down the oesophagus, “Girls, chuck the actualization, where are you going
to find the time for it, will you settle then for plain affection and respect!!”
