What matrimonial sites do to you

When family friends, acquaintances, relatives, and the teacher aunty next-door (who by the way has been stuck in a terrible marriage for more than three decades), failed to set me up with a boy of their dreams, my parents finally took the plunge and signed me up for an online match-making portal. Online matrimonial sites are single-handedly the reason for me losing complete faith in humanity. Why you ask? Well, this is what they do to you:

1. They paint a perfect picture of happiness, joy, and love that will come to you if you make the decision to get married. For instance, look at that girl’s face – she is probably thinking, ‘I can’t believe I landed this dumb modeling assignment’.

But what does the website want us to believe? – ‘I am so effin happy because I found my knight in shining armor here, because that’s what knights do after they finish their rounds of horseback-riding and killing witches’

2. They want you to believe that the possibility of finding the ‘one’ is just a few clicks away. Phrases like how a ‘relationship manager’ could help you find your ‘life partner’ for a ‘premium price’ are thrown at you randomly to make you feel like a complete idiot for not signing up earlier.

3. They somehow manage to convince your ‘tambrahm’ folks that this is the next best thing after filter kaapi and The Hindu of course. Sample a typical conversation that I have with my mom:

Amma: Tambrahmmatrimony match says 80%... What’s the problem now?

Me: I don’t like him. He is settled in the US. I don’t want to go.

Amma: 80% di. Not common.

Me: Amma…

Amma: These days, 80% rarity, girls picky, what to do…(trails away visibly upset…)

4. Increases the chances of finding the ‘one’ by separating the several million castes we have in India. Iyermatrimony, punjabimatrimony, telgumatrimony, and oh for the rich fellas we have a privilegematrimony too. Somehow I believe things would be a lot easier if the sites were classified on the basis of professions. Some examples would be -- ITmatrimony, CAmatrimony, engineersintheusawithfakeaccentsmatrimony. Some the subsites would be parentscreatedtheprofilematrimony, lookingforspeeddatingmatrimony, and oh the hypocriterebelmatrimony ( Profiles that say stuff like 'I am extrovert with a traditional outlook)

If you think, things cannot get worse, sample this:

There is a ‘Pride of the Community’ column in a popular matrimonial website that features a celebrity. Any guesses who is the pride of the Iyengar community?

Ultimate star Kamalhassan – Yes! The man who has had two failed marriages, a long string of affairs, openly declared himself as an atheist, and is now currently living in with a woman he loves. Totally the poster boy for the conservative Iyengar community.

Did I mention the ridiculous profiles on the site? There was one ass who mentioned he only wanted girls who were ‘fair or very fair’. Some other gems:

• I want a girl who knows the national language Hindi (Since when did Hindi become the national language? It is an official language goddamit)
  
• I want a flexible match in the earning group of about Rs.3 to 4 lakhs per month, or an unemployed girl from a higher income group. (Translated as: Wants only rich girls. And don’t even get me started on the ‘flexible’.)
  
• Single daughter or single daughter with male brother/s preferred. (Again translated as: Non-rich girls don’t apply)
  
• Girl should be professionally qualified, employed/willing to work, very good looking, caring, traditional but with a modern outlook, and home loving. (Erm, my son, you can only find these women in the movies or Leo coffee ads. You know, the kind who wakes up at four, takes a bath, cooks, walks around the Tulsi plant ten times, prays for husband’s well-being, and then wakes him up with coffee)
  
• I want a girl who has been well trained in domestic responsibilities. (A maid you mean?)
  
• Quiet understanding, simple, broadminded, believe in co-existing, prepared to offer love and affection, have a feel for elders, knowing fundas of cooking, reasonably english speaking & educated and employed, family minded girl. (I just couldn’t go through this profile without flinching at the irony. The ‘quiet’ understanding with a ‘feel for elders’ part is just so creepy on several levels.)

My brother finds this whole process very funny and occasionally sends me profiles with grim jokes like ‘horrorscope’ on the subject line. This list could go on and on and make me sound like an absolutely judgmental ass who thinks the world of herself. Though this description might sound perfect on some counts, I am still stopping my passive aggressive rant so as to not ruin my ‘opportunities to get married’ on the interwebz.

I just realized....

...that I love myself :)

I was just clearing out my old mail from a long forgotten email ID and - wow what surprises it threw up. I was such a different person three years back. College projects that I so strongly believed that they would change the world, playing peacemaker between warring people in class, fighting depression myself… wow, somehow I seem to have lost that youthful stupidity now. The highly judgmental, bookish, biased opinions that I had a few years back make me cringe but also smile

I also happened to see a few mails I had forwarded to myself from my official ID when I resigned last year. All the congratulatory emails, awards, and praises that made me swell up like a bullfrog now make me laugh. I have always believed in hard work. Just as I used to burn the midnight oil for a 5 mark assignment in college, I still cannot sleep in peace, if I know I had turned in a crappy article at work. Now when I realize that all my efforts are now probably in some project manager's docket that is lying in the attic - I am forced to rethink.

So many emails and letters, flying back and forth between so many important and no so important people in my life - lashing out harsh judgments, counseling people, an occasional birthday wish, unmentionable crushes, the start of a new friendship, the sad ending….and each one of those emails made me smile. Smile and reflect on all the wise and stupid decisions I had made in the past. To cut the monologue short - Yes. I was uptight and serious, but that’s what I was and still am.

I may have given half a limb for an office assignment that meant nothing, but at least I tried. When I did get the credit, I knew I fully deserved it. I do have my weaknesses and a considerable share of mistakes, but these little imperfections define me more than my successes. Yes, I love myself :)

My birthday and more...

Whoa!! I am still reeling under the fantastic birthday bash I had on Friday. I don’t usually celebrate birthdays; probably because they remind me of how closer I am to getting wrinkles, wearing bifocals, and growing gray hair! But this year, I cut three huge chocolate truffle cakes, got a dozen bear hugs and priceless books.

The day started with several calls and messages from friends and foes :). Yeah, anybody who calls me at 12 with the sole intention of waking me up gets segmented inside my brain as a foe automatically. My roomie included! But I did forgive her for the lovely bracelets she gave me.

I reached office to baby pink roses and a gazillion birthday wishes. I have never felt so pampered ever before. To top it all, I cut two surprise chocolate cakes and got my face plastered in chocolate syrup and slabs. All thanks to S’d and everyone else who chortled at the sight of me licking cake from my nose. The name on the cake was not very flattering I should say! One had a ‘Happy Birthday Geek” (I so hate Gau’mi) on it and the other one had a ‘Happy Birthday Pogo” (Apparently I look like a cartoon from the POGO channel. Some cheek!) . I also got a gorgeous green kurta and ‘Brick lane’ a book by Monica Ali. Thanks mates!

GP then called me up to say she wouldn’t be able to meet me today due to other engagements. I grumbled about it to Vamp, who suggested a visit to his new house to cheer me up. I readily agreed! All the way to his house, I kept a low profile, muttering vague things about getting ditched on a birthday.

When we finally waded through the impossible traffic, and reached his place, I opened the door to find GP, Kiki, Aks and most importantly another chocolate cake :). This time I am not even mentioning what was written on the cake! GP and her tricks. I always fall for them.

Vamp gave me the whole ‘Lord of the Rings’ collection. After a yummy dinner with 10 others, I crashed at Procky’s place. Me and Kiki encountered a cockroach that flew around the house. Kiki kept running from one corner to another with a broomstick in hand. The sight was so hilarious that I started laughing uncontrollably. The cockroach wiped my smile away by settling down inside my handbag. Later, with an Outlook and Baygon spray we finished the job.

I ran home next day morning, to find an unnamed package. ‘The Black Swan’, by Nissim Nicholas Taleb was inside it. Before I could go into the dreamland of some unnamed mysterious caped crusader, who would sweep me off my feet, by surprising me with unnamed packages, Mom asked me to check with Unz. When I did, I realized that it was indeed Unz who sent it. So much for my dream, but nevertheless, thanks a bunch for the brilliant book!

At the end of it all, I felt immensely lucky to have such friends. It takes a lot to organize surprises just to make my day special. After all, my friends are the best! :)

Phew!

It is only 7.00 AM in the morning, and I am already wiping away tears with the back of my hands. I splash cold water on my face, willing the tears to stop, but they don’t. I curse and continue peeling onions. I need to get an edible curry ready before Dad and Bro bring the place down with their claims of how they have never been late for work/school.

“We could have got something from Nilgiris!” grumbles Dad, scrubbing the kitchen sink. “Breakfast will be ready by the time you finish your bath”, I announce in my most-reassuring cheerful voice. Dad shakes his head and storms out of the kitchen.

Sigh! It has been more than a month. Thanks to Mom, who is enjoying her extended vacation in her hill-station cum hometown, I have been confined to the kitchen walls on all weekends. Sundays included!!
A typical weekend starts like this.

SATURDAY:
I come home after a crazy, breathless, impossible deadline achieving work-week to this mess. After a hurried dosa-making session and packing lunches, I return to the kitchen for a round of washing and scrubbing vessels. The Pooja room is a mess. The lamps have turned green. This according to Dad is because of some chemical reaction between oil and copper. He illustrates with a formula that he makes up at the spur of moment. I scratch the formula out and write in bold letters, ‘This reaction would have never happened if you cleaned the lamp.” He goes back to polishing his shoes muttering about how he could have grown paddy in the fields and helped poor farmers instead of wasting time giving birth to me. I want to point out a fundamental mistake in his time-space hypothesis of making children and growing paddy...But I keep my mouth shut.

After a couple of bear hugs, both of them leave the house. I start with cleaning the kitchen. Mom has a particular order in which she arranges her vessels, and anybody who messes the order will probably get hit in the head with her favorite wooden ladle. So I fix the jigsaw and wash clothes. Our washing machine thinks it is a pet animal and works only if Mom is around. The other members of the family do not exist in its world. So I end up washing clothes manually (White-turned-brown clothes are surprisingly more in number than colored ones). After trudging the million stairs to my terrace, I dry the clothes out, hopping from one foot to anther, to avoid roasting my poor legs completely. Then I start sweeping, mopping and dusting the house. By the time I finish it is already time for lunch. I mercifully gulp down the rice and rush upstairs for a nap.

I wake up after an hour to make coffee, and start my usual round of washing vessels. Bro returns and I have to make another round of coffee and wash vessels. Dad comes back, and I have to make yet another round of coffee and wash vessels. I cut veggies and make dinner. Of course, there is another round of washing vessels.

All of us eat dinner and thankfully this time, Dad washes the vessels. I quickly check mail and reply to the ‘Are-you-dead-or-what?’ messages on Orkut. All of us tuck in for some bedside reading and Bro sleeps off with his book open. I hardly get through three pages and groggily ask Dad to switch off the lights.

SUNDAY:
All of us wake up only by 8.00 AM. I get the customary call from Mom, and I almost ask her to pack her bags and get back. The goodness of my heart and the angel that I am; is the only thing that makes me say, “I am having fun here. You come back whenever you want.” I also nicely let the ‘I am not cleaning the house today’ fact, slip in between our conversation (In my classic ‘Am-I-not-your-bundle-of-joy’ voice). “Varsha!” she says. The only time she calls me by my name is when she disapproves of what I am doing. Otherwise I take the names of various species of cattle depending on her mood. She tells me if I make this a habit, what will my future in-laws think of me? “Fine”, I grumble and go back into the kitchen. I hope she never finds out that I blogged this conversation. Her daughter ruining her own prospective marriage alliances is not something she can digest!

MONDAY:
My boss asks me in a cheerful voice, “So how was your weekend?” and I am tempted to reply, “Squeaky clean”.