India is one of those unique countries where marriages were arranged based on the parents’ choice. I was no exception. Ever since my childhood, I was totally a momma’s boy and had vowed that I would marry only the girl chosen by my mom. I somehow never believed in the concept of love (and that’s a famous saying of all the ‘single’ and ‘friend zoned’ men). In fact, ‘love’ was a banned term at home. Don’t even ask about sex.
When I reached puberty, and my testosterone started pumping iron, it dawned on me that love wasn’t that bad after all and that feeling incremented exponentially every time I saw a gorgeous girl on the road, school or even on TV. I developed a huge crush on Catherine Zeta Jones and vowed to find her and marry her when I grew up. But thanks to the initial ‘ingrained inhibitions’, I was a complete dampener when it came to talking to girls. I would always screw up and end up as the guy who wouldn’t look at girls in their eyes. No, I wouldn’t look at their breasts either, but gaze aimlessly at the ground.
Until 15 years of age, I didn’t know how to talk to my female counterparts. It took me a few more years to realize that they were just fellow human beings and there was no need to be scared of them. Talk to them like you would talk to another fellow human, with confidence, conviction and honesty, and they would love you. Within two years, I was a completely changed man, I had more lady friends than guy friends. I guess I went so overboard that a few of my buddies ‘stamped’ me a flirt!
Although my mindset changed in a lot of aspects over the years, I still did not change my decision over marriage. Falling in love was still a strict “NO”. Neither did any girl propose to me nor did I have the guts to express my feelings to those crushes I had. I stuck to the principle of marrying only the girl my parents chose for me. In retrospection, I don’t remember my parents discussing this with me or taking any such promise from me.
Time rolled by, and I relocated to Chennai for work from my hometown, Trichy. Five years into my professional life, my parents asked me if they could look for an alliance, and I gave an immediate nod (How long should I wait for this question?). My dad was quite excited and happy. Among all those children who fell in love and married ‘against’ their parents’ wishes, there I was, agreeing to his deeds, willing to marry the girl of his choice, an ideal son. He would never know that falling in love is never in our hands.
My marriage with Diana happened in a jiffy. It has the potential to be on the run for bagging the record as the ‘Fastest Indian Arranged Marriage’. I remember all the incidents vividly.
I met her on the 8th of August, 2014 at her home for the first time. From the very moment I entered her house, I was a complete chatterbox. I was very well-known for impressing the mothers of my lady friends during school and college days. I used the same tricks on Diana’s mom as well, and not surprisingly, it worked wonders.
I closed my mouth only when she asked my monthly salary. I was uncomfortable and was in a spot of bother. Even my parents have never asked me this so far! I saw my mom silently gazing at Diana’s mom. Without anyone to save my ass any further, I mumbled out my salary.
Diana was still waiting inside one of the rooms. Their hall was quite spacious and neat. I talked to her mom for about twenty minutes, when my mom asked her parents if we could meet Diana.
Diana came out after a few minutes. She was wearing a white and pink churidhar, had long well-oiled, well combed hair, wore a pleasing smile, and took careful steps as she sat in the chair opposite to me. I instantly noticed her protruding small belly. She didn’t wear any makeup. I was pleasantly surprised to see such a simple ‘city-bred’ girl. “Praise the Lord.” she politely greeted and we gradually started to interact.
“Hey hi Diana. How are you?” I started.
“I am fine Robin and you?” I noticed that she called me by name.
“Good! Err... So, what interests you?” it sounded silly, but I had to be ‘artificially formal’ as our parents were still seated beside us and listening to EVERY WORD we spoke!
“Nothing in particular” came a bland reply.
“Alright. Do you drive?” I started asking a few important questions.
“No.”
“Not even a two-wheeler?” I was bemused.
“Not even a bicycle.” she replied.
“She can drive if the road is empty or if someone can hold the bike and run behind her.” her dad intervened. My parents laughed hysterically.
“But, in Chennai, it’s good to learn to drive, right? Especially, if you have to commute to work every day...”
“My company provides cab facility.” She responded as if she owned a helicopter.
“Diana, you are staying in Padi now and working here in Ambattur. After marriage, you will move to Thiruvanmayur. I heard your RBS office has a branch at Guindy. Will you be able to manage a transfer to Guindy? Else, I am afraid it will be quite difficult for you to travel all the way daily without your own vehicle.” I said.
She quietly nodded, unconvincingly.
“Do you cook?” I continued my one-sided interview.
“No” she said.
“Do you even know to boil water?” I asked sarcastically.
“No. I have never entered the kitchen.” She retorted and gave a warning glare.
I got the message and stopped questioning further on that topic. I didn’t know how to continue the conversation any further. I wasn’t being stereotypical, but I knew for sure that after marriage we would have to eat and the cooking process should involve either her or me. I wasn’t a bad cook, but I was lazy and it would never work if I have to cook in the early hours before heading to work. I was still fine with her not knowing to cook though, but not knowing to drive was definitely a disappointment.
There was an awkward silence for a few seconds. There were no questions from the other side, as well.
“What other things do you like?” I persisted.
“I am well-versed with Photoshop.” she said.
“Aah... Okay!” For some inexplicable reason, I didn’t like her voice at all. Her tone sounded manly and was interspersed with few ghastly grunts. Another minus, I thought with disappointment. I wasn’t expecting a Lata Mangeshkar, but definitely not a female Amitabh Bachchan.
“Do you draw?” I asked as she was interested in Photoshop.
“Yes, I am interested in sketching. Last page scribblings during boring lectures kindled that interest in me”
“Great. Writing stories in exam papers, kindled the author in me. I write stories, you can draw for them. You know, I also play the keyboard. I have composed a few songs for my office events.” I told proudly.
“Oh! Do you play the keyboard in the church?” her dad interrupted.
“No uncle. I haven’t so far. I am just an amateur. I don’t know to play it that well.” I said with a sheepish smile.
“Other than drawing, what do you do?” I redirected my attention back to her.
“I like pets, dolls, flowers and small beautiful gardens” I observed that she was a woman of few words, and that to me, sounded like an oxymoron!
Before I could ask permission to talk to her in private, my parents cut me midway and told that we would take leave, go home, discuss amongst ourselves, and then inform Diana’s parents of our final decision. I was disappointed. I was in the middle of a conversation, and they ended it so abruptly and would make a decision now?!
Her parents called for an auto to drop us to the bus stop. On the way back, I was agitated and started to question as to why we had to leave that way. My parents asked me to keep my mouth shut as the auto driver could be a known friend of their family. I obediently obliged.
We got down at the bus stop, and I looked at my mom and dad.
“What do you want now?” My mom asked me in her usual authoritative tone.
“I feel we shouldn’t have left in haste. I wanted to talk to her alone. There are a few… actually, a lot of things that I wanted to discuss and know about her. I had just started and you stopped it too
soon”
“Whatever you discussed was enough” she almost ordered.
“Mom! How could you?”
“What do you want to know?” she stared at me.
“What are we going to tell them after going home?”
“We will decide that later. Do you like that girl, Rob?” my mom asked me.
“Come on! She doesn’t know to cook. She can’t drive. How can a city-bred girl be so naive? To add to this, she has an awful voice too!” I lamented and added “But yeah, I like her.” and bit my tongue.
“She must know cooking? You are looking for a life partner or a servant? So, should we tell ‘NO’?”
“Not like that mom. I guess I must meet her in person and talk one more time before we take any decision, mom.” I was very particular about it.
“We will go home first.” my dad intervened.
I was still quite puzzled about why we left Diana’s house hurriedly and why my parents insisted on replying to them when I was so indecisive. I knew that I would never get a convincing answer. But, I knew one thing for sure: Diana’s mom was quite impressed with the way I talked. I had sold myself well. I wasn’t sure if Diana had liked me though as all I managed to do during our short conversation was to pull her legs.
My mom turned to me and said, “You know what, when I got married, I did not know cooking. But, I learned it as the days went by. That is something people can learn, no big deal. I would advise you not to reject her for that.”
I was even more confused and bewildered. Does that mean it is a ‘YES’ from my parents? Besides, Diana not knowing to cook was the least of my worries. I was more worried about choosing my life partner within 10 minutes of meeting her. I wasn’t getting a clear picture from my parents. They were confusing me.
I decided to talk to Diana secretively without the knowledge of our parents and then make a decision. That would make sense and that felt right. What I least expected anyway was that our first ever conversation would end in such a disaster. I was frustrated and disappointed to such an extent that I never wanted a girl like her ever in my life!
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Chapter 3 The First Date Oct 20 th 2016
I was anxious and wanted to talk to Diana. My 27th ring to her mobile yielded no result. It was still switched off. The watchman was observing me from a distance. The look I gave him earlier was enough to make him know his place and occupy only that. I thought hard to remember her cab driver’s number in vain. Her cab mate’s number was never registered in my memory. I cursed myself.
‘10.47 Pm’
It was two minutes past her usual cab timing, I couldn’t wait any further. I called ‘Just Dial’ and enquired for Galarena’s contact number. I received it in an SMS and immediately made a call to it. After a few rings a sweet voice of a lady answered at the other end,
“Hi this is Suji from Galarena India, how may I help you?”
“Hey, hi, this is Robin. My wife works for your company, I am trying to reach her, but unable to. Could you please connect me to her?” I asked as my mind was wavering with random unwanted thoughts.
“Sir, this is the reception. I will not be able to connect to individual employees.” she responded.
“At least ask her to come to your desk, or inform her manager or inform someone there to… don’t you get it? I am unable to reach her. Its 10.47 now. She usually comes home by this time and I am worried.” I raised my voice.
“I understand sir, but I wouldn’t be able to.” she continued.
“Oh cut the crap. What can you do?” I was furious.
“What’s her name sir?” she still politely enquired.
“Diana. Official name is Diana Israel. Please ask her to contact me immediately, if she is still in office” I said as I wiped the sweat from my forehead.
“I will drop her an email now and ask her to contact you sir. Would you need any further assistance?”
“No thanks.” I said bluntly.
“Have a nice evening sir and hope everything is alright.” she said as she cut the call at her end.
I wished to have a nice day too. I hoped against hope as I looked at my mobile again for any news from Diana. She was still not reachable.
Aug 10th 2014
I somehow wanted to reach Diana without the knowledge of my parents. I desperately hoped to contact her. Even if we were not to be married, we could still remain friends, I thought. She was working with RBS in its Ambattur branch which was quite far from Thiruvanmayur, where I stayed. I was thinking of ways to talk to her when I was reminded of my friend Kalpana, who also worked at RBS, but in its Guindy branch.
Kalpana was my trek-mate. We had gone for a couple of Nagalapuram treks together. She was cool, curly haired, of my age and had a knack for sarcasm. I decided to check with her and dialled her number.
“Kalpana I need a small help from you.” I started.
“Hey Robin, yes, tell me.” she replied with a heavy dose of enthusiasm.
“I just met this girl as an alliance and she is working in RBS, her name is Diana. She works in the Ambattur branch. I want you to get her email address or mobile number or anything that you could, please.” I uttered in one single breath.
“Oh congratulations!! But wait, should I help you or help her by asking her to run away from you?” she started teasing me.
“I will tell that to your boyfriend first.”
“Which one of my boyfriends are you going to talk to?” I could hear her giggle. I had to laugh along, else she wouldn’t get me Diana’s details.
“Ha ha... Jokes apart, when can I get it?”
“It’s not that easy, my boy! It will take some time. Besides, right now, I am on a tea break. I will have to go to the loo, and then come back, and if my mood permits, will search for your darling’s details.”
“Huh... Kalps, please, ASAP” I pleaded.
“Just don’t talk like my bloody boss.” she abruptly hung up.
I waited patiently with bated breath for the next half an hour after which I got a Whatsapp message from Kalpana:
“[email protected] is her mail ID. Unable to get her mobile number.”
I called her back immediately.
“Hey Kalps, did you also inquire about the girl? How is she? Her character? Silent? Calm? Arrogant? What about her attitude? Will she suit me?” I shot all my questions.
“One question at a time, boss! One at a time.”
“Did you inquire?” I paused and then asked.
“Yes, I did.”
“And what did they say? Is she an apt match for me?”
“Well… None of my friends know her.” She told in a confused tone.
“Oh, shit!”
“Don’t shit. Actually, it’s a good news. If none of them know her, it probably means she is a quiet girl, which is good for you.” She gave me a comforting news.
“What a theory! And what kind of friends do you have?”
“My friends are people like you. But wait… Will a silent, goody girl suit you, Mr. Playboy, the Chatterbox?” she started pulling my leg.
“Opposites attract, Miss!”
“I am so tempted to drop her a mail about you detailing all your girlfriends.” She teased again.
“I don’t have a girlfriend!” I said in a dead serious tone. “Yeah, that’s what I said, you don’t have one, but many girlfriends!” she said and laughed like it was the best joke in the world.
“Send it across. Bye for now baby… thanks!” saying I cut the call.
Silent girl! Will she suit me? Do opposites ‘actually’ attract? I had my doubts.
Ignoring my thoughts, I started to draft a mail for her. The first things that we do for our loved ones always remain special. The first message, first date, first kiss, first movie... they all remain special for every human being. I wanted my first mail to her to be a memorable one. I had never thought that hard even while writing my appraisal document.
I thought through a lot, and decided to keep my first mail
simple and straightforward:
Hi,
This is Robin. Hope you remember me. Is this your mail id?”
Regards
Rob.
9*************
I had included my mobile number in my signature deliberately. I mailed her before I left for lunch break, hoping to find her reply once I was back. It felt like one long lunch break as I tried to hide my excitement and behaved normally with my lunch gang.
I returned as soon as I could and checked my mailbox anxiously for her mail. It wasn’t there. I double checked if I sent to the right email ID, indeed I had. The wait became longer; the day became longer, but there was no response from her. I was quite upset. She was making her intentions clear. I didn’t know how to react. I didn’t tell anyone at office. I wanted to keep it all a secret until things moved to the next level. I left office around 8 PM, thoroughly disappointed.
That night, I had to travel to Trichy for the settlement of an ancestral property. I boarded the bus at around 10 PM and occupied a corner seat. Some random movie was being played in the bus. I was in no mood to watch it, neither was the view outside exciting. I chatted with a few friends on Whatsapp to kill time.
At 12.07 AM, I got a message from an unknown number.
“Hi, this is Diana, please do not send e-mails to my official ID.”
I jumped with joy. In fact, I wanted to jump out of the window and shout. I was thrilled and it showed in the texts I sent her.
“Hey, sure! I wouldn’t send hereafter. But wait... How did you find my number?”
“You first tell me how you found my e-mail id.” She shot back.
“I have ‘reliable’ sources all around the globe. They can’t be revealed.” I sent an eye winking smiley.
“So do I. I would also not tell you how I found your number.” she sent an ’I don’t care’ smiley.
“Come on! Please tell me.”I pretended to plead.
I knew that she picked my number from my signature. But, women like it when men act dumb.
“You first tell me how you found my email Id.” She was insistent.
“That was your e-mail id anyway, right? Then, don’t worry about how I found it.” I said.
11 Hours Page 2
