bs-ingh

I have hit 25. In Indian girl world, this means that I am now of "marriageable" age. The rishtas (proposals) are going to start trickling in. Soon I will be deluged with requests. They will come from far and wide - from a network of concerned relatives, gossipy old ladies, and boys who cant get dates - all of whom have set their clocks to the exact time of when I enter the marriage market. They will be appropriately vetted by my parents before being passed on to me. I will be resistant at first, but I will soon oblige. The Indian marriage machinery is a formidable opponent.

The first proposal is already here. I am to meet a boy who will be visiting Manhattan to meet his sister. The three of us will go out on a date together. Me, the boy and his sister. Charming. I can totally imagine marrying this one.

When I told my mother that it was absurd to have his sister as a chaperone, she agreed. Emboldened, I suggested that I should take my sister too (she's just a year older and she's on the market too. Every night we swap war stories and cry.) My mother's horrified gasp traveled across the seven seas.

Ma (sternly): You cannot take an unmarried girl with you.
Me (wheedling): But why?
Ma (getting progressively sterner): What if he falls in love with her?
Me (triumphant): Perfect!
Ma (positively shaking with sternness): This is not a meat market. He cannot choose which one he wants. And comb your hair before meeting him.

This is going to be just dandy. I'll report back.