‘Got Married’
I hurriedly added a life event on my Facebook timeline.
We aren’t married yet. The marriage is not for another six hours. But I just wanted my parents and my nose-poking relatives to know that their favorite and ‘role-model’ child is not coming back to their house. I’m sure they have already turned into Sherlock Holmes, spreading their nets to catch me. But they are mere hooligans. They are uneducated like us.
I’m sure that my parents, my relatives, or my nephews would never speak with me for committing such a sin. Having grown up in a family where murder is just ‘accounts settled’ and inter-caste marriage is an unforgivable sin, my conscience has come a long way. Isn’t reproduction a natural thing? Why does it matter who do we do it with?
After all, our offspring will enjoy the love showered upon it by both me and him. I’ve questioned my decisions in life. And often, I was right. It is my life. Neither my parents nor any other are going to live it on behalf of me.
So, when the phone was pealing with emotional messages from Vishal, I somehow had to stop him and answered with a syllable – Yes! He’s been someone who has turned my life into a beautiful story. I was sucked into this vortex called caste. Any relative who would come into my house would leave it by saying ‘Never fall in love with a person from another caste. We have high standards of living than the others.’ But he roped me out of it.
And this very forbidden fruit was the first reason why I said Yes. But that wasn’t the only one.
Making a transition from village life to city life was very difficult and unwelcoming for me. I was bullied by my peers for the first few months because of my awkward selection of dresses and my constant denial to drinking. I was very adamant in maintaining my identity. It was who I was; who I am. I can’t act like someone in front of my friends, and someone in front of my parents. To me, all the world’s is not a stage!
Just like how the ethnicities come together as a gang, few other outcasts and I formed a small gang in college. We weren’t the ones who took a lot of selfies, we never found happiness in drinking, we never gossiped, we were not interested in dating or casual relationships, and we were definitely not interested in wearing shorter dresses. Our identity was against it and so was I.
I’ll clear the air between my culture and caste. The culture was my identity, my caste wasn’t. I never wanted to be identified with my caste or my religion. I wanted people to recognize me as a Tamil girl.
To sum it all up, the life inside the college was no different from what was happening inside my house. Except, I faced staunch male domination and was caged in my house. But every bird leaves its nest. It just needs some amount of confidence.
The time to try the wild blue yonder came to me when I first met Vishal. Every club in our college was campaigning for new members and I’ve always liked a community-based club. I wanted to enlist for Rotaract and made my way to the stall when a stout figure stopped me.
‘Are you here to join Rotaract?’, he asked me.
He gave me a form to fill up as soon as I nodded. ‘Fill in all the essentials, pay your membership fee, and come to the inauguration.’ said he with a sly smile and left the place.
From that moment on Rotaract became my second classroom. We used to meet up every day and talk about the issues in the community. Since Vishal was my head, I always pitched my ideas to him and he saw those as a chance to get close with me. Nobody doubted our relationship. If you hear our conversation, it’ll only be about how the human race is being separated because of caste and religion, why there is so much hatred in a country that is unable to use its powerful population to turn into an economic superpower, etc.
But what I loved about Vishal was his positive attitude in life. Being from an orthodox family, he was trying to break the chains like Daenerys Targaryen. He used to tell me that he’d never pray to God nor do religious things because he believes that it separates people. He only visited temples for the prasad. He was indifferent to others’ opinions.
But he made my life in college sweet. We both shared the same ideologies. We both were very passionate about trying to create a change. He was always ready to show his ‘prestigious’ family that every human was the same and hence was never interested in arranged marriages. But at the same time, he was a hopeless romantic.
He never confessed his love for me during college. It was after my graduation one day that he confessed to me and through a text message! He was never interested in wooing a girl with gifts too. He believed if two people can love each other, why should materialistic love exist?
But my family was always interested in getting rid of me. They were raising me only to get me married to another person. The degree was just a showcase for the world to know that their daughter too is educated. They saw it as a mere status. Actually, a lot of people do. Otherwise, wouldn’t our country would flourish with a lot of common sense?
But the world was enough for me. I was not ready to spend the rest of my life with a person whom I do not know about. I’m sure he’s only marrying me because of the amount of wealth that’d be transferred to him, to satisfy his sexual desires, and to have an unpaid servant in his life. Because, ever since my birth, my parents kept telling me that I should never be cross with my husband or in-laws. Landing up in jail and the person’s place is both the same. And being from a village, they’d want me to act as if I had never read a book in life.
My conscience took over again. I wanted to be the Rosa Parks of my family. I wanted to change things. I wanted to tell the generations after me that men and women are equal and that identity is different from inequality and hatred. So, I called him and I told him that I’m coming to his house and we both better get married.
He understood my plight. I was scared that he’d give me a reason saying he’s financially unstable and turn me down. But he stood by his promise and his values. He understood that love meant sacrifice and that it takes a lot of pain to make relationships work. So, I told my parents that I’ll be back in a few hours. But I never visited my friends’ but caught my bus to Bengaluru and was scared to death until I found his smiling face waiting impatiently in the morning at the bus stop.
He hugged me, never questioned me, and took me to his house. I connected my Wi-Fi and updated my status. I convinced him that we’ve got to get married sooner and through a friend, he got us a church at 3 PM. It was really exciting. There were no conventions. It was a temple after all. It didn’t matter to both of us. He had to prepare for the wedding and he left to buy things from the store.
I was asked to get ready and his female friends ensured everything was set in place. They took me shopping, got me the wedding dress, the bouquets, ordered cakes, and in no time, we were present at the church.
The church was empty. There were no designs around. There were no people around. It was empty and our voices echoed through the church. And all this while, I was never worried about my decision. I have been with him for 2 years and I know him much better than anyone. I knew he’d never give up on me, nor let me down. The priest had come already and in 30 mins we were to get married.
I could hear the cars parking outside in a hurry. I knew he had come. But his friends came inside panting and weeping and I knew things weren’t right. Sometimes even conscience could go wrong. Your frantic decisions can always put you at a huge risk. So, did mine. It seemed that the status I had updated had shown my location as ‘Bengaluru, India’ and my parents always doubted my relationship with him.
Since he snatched my heart, they literally snatched his. Did I not tell you about how happy they get when they settle their accounts? But for some reason, I wasn’t going numb. I was hearing the stories without a drop of tear or a heavy pang in my heart. I went to the hospital and his motionless body lay there.
I knew it was me who murdered him. If only I had stuck to what my parents had said, he’d have been at his office smiling and enjoying with his friends. If only I had answered him with another syllable, he’d have found another girl. A guy like him would surely attract a girl if efforts were made. If only I had not taken my feelings personal to him, I’d have been yet another graduate without a friend from another department. If only I wasn’t born to this family, I wouldn’t have regretted any of this.
I only wish time could move back. All his friends were weeping around me. I noticed all the thick plastic covers laying around. Just because I asked him, he was ready to marry me within a short span of time. Such was his love for me. He wanted me to be in a happy place.
I opened each of the bags. The smell of the fresh linen coat still hadn’t died. His new perfumes were not opened. The watch that he was about to gift me still showed 10.10. The fruits still had dew on them. And the rings were glittering in the case.
I took the rings in my hand. It was already 3 PM. If he had been alive, we’d have been kissing by now. I’d have sped in his car to my new home and perhaps would have enjoyed every moment of it. I turned back to his expressionless face.
The blood was drying up. The police were around. And people were pulling me away from him. I was constantly resisting. I ran my fingers over his body. I knew that as long as the roots of the tree called casteism grew, nobody can have different opinions. I’m sure I’ll be slaughtered too. I wasn’t scared of death. I wanted to stand my ground. I did not want to break down and explain to the media how I lost him. They’d surely make money through my story.
I wanted the world to see that women too can fight, especially women like me who are just fed to be saviors to unknown and unworthy rulers in the future. I slowly lifted his ice-cold hand and clenched it tight.
I took a ring from the box, inserted it in his ring finger and said ‘I do’.
#RandomThoughts 