Marriage Troubles

Dear dedicated reader,

As I mentioned previously, wedding season means weddings in the air and Tabussum and Parulben, my and Melissa’s co-teachers respectively, have been feeling the breeze.

Tabussum and Parulben both live in Mandvi, a town about 15 km away from Kadod and so, after many invitations, this weekend was the first time that it worked out for Melissa and I to actually go to Mandvi to call on their families. Afraid that if we took the bus we would never find her house (which would have been the case since it was a good many twists and turns from the bus stand), Tabussum arranged for her brother to come and pick us up in Kadod.

As we got into the car, she apologized. “We took out our seat covers for washing,” she said anxiously. I assured her that since plush flower print seat covers are primarily an Indian phenomenon, I barely noticed.

Tabussum was visibly excited that we were finally going to be meeting her family. When we arrived at her house, deep in the Muslim section of Mandvi, she jumped out of the car to tell her family that we had come. Her mother, her sister-in-law, and her other brother came to the door to create a sort of receiving line into the house. On taking our seats inside, we opened with our usual “awkward visiting American” line, commenting on how beautiful the house is.

“We don’t have any pictures on the walls,” she explained hurriedly, “because in our community, it’s against our religion to have a picture of any living thing.” Whenever Tabussum discusses the fact that she is Muslim, she always simply says “in our community”. As the only Muslim teacher at the school besides Daybal, I often think it must be difficult for her.

Her sister had been staying with her for the past two weeks because she just gave birth to a beautiful baby boy and so she and her mother sat down with us to show us her wedding photos.

“We are searching for a boy for Tabussum,” her mother informed us as we ooh-ed and aah-ed over the photos.

“Really?” I asked her. “And have you found anyone?”

“One person has offered, but we said no,” she said thoughtfully.

Tabussum explained. “My brother is also of marrying age, so we are expanding our house, then we will find him a husband, then me. But, in our community,” she paused, “it’s difficult to find a husband who is educated. I have my M.A. and I want my husband to be educated also and for this we have to look very far outside of Mandvi.”

We nodded sympathetically at her mother. She just smiled peacefully.

This was in stark contrast to the state of frenzy in which we found Parulben’s mother when we made our way over to her house later that afternoon.

We were welcomed into the house with a sad smile from a lovely elderly Gujarati woman wearing a striking yellow sari. Parulben was smiling behind her.

“What am I going to do?” Parul’s mother moaned to us as we sat down in her parlor. “We are looking for a boy for Parul and we have found NO ONE, just NO ONE… she MUST get married this year. She is 24! What will we do?”

Melissa and I looked at each other. We had just entered the house.

“I have been feeling so much tension,” she explained, rubbing her shoulders anxiously. “So much tension in my body because of this problem.” The pain on her face made it clear that this was true. She wrang her hands in emphasis.

I expressed my sympathies.“And it’s not just me!” She continued woefully. “Parul’s father has been feeling it too… even now, he is consulting with a specialist about the problem.”

“For his body?” I asked her with a sympathetic look.

“No,” she replied, “For Parul’s marriage!” It was explained that this specialist would be able to present some eligible families for them to contact who also had children of marrying age. In fact, he was due back to report any time in the next hour.

“I was going to many events this year,” Parulben explained to us with a sympathetic smile for her mother. “To meet other young people like me, for marriage. But,” she shot a glance at her mother, “so far there is no one.”

“And it is being so difficult in our Rajput community!” The mother wailed. “The groom’s family, they demand so many things. And we have three other daughters! Three daughters! And if we give Parul anything which we did not give to the others, we must present they and their husbands with it later because otherwise they will say, ‘look, you have given Parul these things and not to us!’. It is so difficult for us, you see…we are just middle class type people.”

Melissa and I nodded our sympathies again. “It’s not like this in our community,” Tabussum added, “but for them it is so difficult.”

“Yes, so difficult,” Parul’s mother echoed.

“In our community,” Tabussum added, “the bride’s family just gives as they wish, as a present to the couple, but in their community, so many things must be demanded, like the family can ask for a house, or a car or anything.”

“Yes, yes,” Parul’s mother said. “It is very expensive to have daughters. And we must find someone for Parul soon because soon she will be so old and it will only become more difficult.”

“How soon would you like her to marry?” I asked, curious.

“If we find someone, as soon as possible! According to when is a good time, of course,” her mother said definitively. “By May, at the latest.” She made a determined gesture with her hand.

Parul nodded as she listened to her mother. I wondered at her ability to soothe her mother’s anxiety and also to know that within the year she was most likely (if the process did not kill her mother first) be married.

On leaving Parulben’s house as we made our way back to Kadod, I found myself lost in the comparison between these two families. Despite that these girls were the same age, with the same qualifications and the fact that Tabussum had told us previously that in her community, her qualifications made marriage prospects exceedingly difficult, Tabussum’s mother had seemed so relaxed, as if Tabussum’s marriage was an afterthought, while for Parulben’s mother, it seemed that she could talk of nothing else (and indeed, we didn’t talk of anything else the entire time we visited at their house).

The experience definitely arranged food for thought…

Best,
Cat