Marrying someone is big. No, I'm not talking about the ceremonies and the chachis mamis and phuppis that come with it, but the actual pakcing-your-bags-shifting-to-his-room big.
Since the subcontinent gives birth to women who often prefer to stay virgins till their wedding day, the entire idea of sleeping in someone's bed magnifies the dilemma of what will happen to me after the guests are gone.
You have to get used to the idea of calling a man your own (especially in arranged marriages), his parents your own, his house and all the pros and cons your own.
To everyone's surprise, I called it my own before all that happened. Perhaps those are the perks of obsessing with a man for more than twelve years. Then three weeks after getting used to him, he left.
From the way he pronounced his s's, to his floppy handwriting and his expressions.
I wish that hadnt happened.
But we gotta move on.
Since the subcontinent gives birth to women who often prefer to stay virgins till their wedding day, the entire idea of sleeping in someone's bed magnifies the dilemma of what will happen to me after the guests are gone.
You have to get used to the idea of calling a man your own (especially in arranged marriages), his parents your own, his house and all the pros and cons your own.
To everyone's surprise, I called it my own before all that happened. Perhaps those are the perks of obsessing with a man for more than twelve years. Then three weeks after getting used to him, he left.
From the way he pronounced his s's, to his floppy handwriting and his expressions.
I wish that hadnt happened.
But we gotta move on.
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