Yada yada yada...

My favorite sitcom (ever) is Frasier. This clip would most definitely feature in my list of the top 5 scenes in the show.

Hilarious! Though I find Friends and The Big Bang Theory to be brilliant shows, this is the one that I would want playing on loop if I were marooned on a deserted island. It's unique in both its humor and its depth, and it's actually helped me through a few rough patches. I cried when I saw the last episode :D Why do such good things have to come to an end?!

Why I am unmarried*

* Indians prefer the term ‘unmarried’ to ‘single’ because it sounds more damaged, and insulting; just the way we like it! ;) So moving on,

According to the astrologers:

The Family Curse!

My grandfather was a stalwart fellow, a man of the soil with muscles of steel. But he wasn’t the best of men. He married twice. His first wife, my father’s mother, was an imposing woman with the worst luck. We were told my grandfather’s roving eye decided she was too much of an obstacle.  She was found dead, and he married again. Though my relatives accept it as fact, no one has actually come forward and corroborated the story, but astrologers do say that she was killed and that in her final moments, she laid a terrible curse on her husband, one that had to do with his progeny. Hence, I am unmarried.

According to astrology:

The Flaw!

My horoscope is hilarious. It’s like the cosmos couldn’t decide whether I should suffer or not. So in one of the ‘houses’ they placed the dreaded Saturn, which would automatically make me ‘flawed’. For those of you who know, it’s called Chevvai Dosham. But hold on! They went ahead and placed another planet, our lofty neighbor Mars, in the same house. So yippee-yippee-yay-yay, the evil has been negated! Or has it?! There’s no consensus on this. Some of the learned pandits scratch their heads and say I’m good to go. Others look at me with a piercing eye and shake their heads- it’s hopeless. Hence, I am unmarried.

According to my late father:

No Daughter of Mine!

My father was a tortured soul. He had one of the lousiest childhoods a person can have. He emerged strong in some ways and weak in others. He wanted to be a ‘good’ person, in the deepest sense of the word. He mostly managed to, with his generosity, integrity and kindness. But he was still a man of his times. Women could not and really, should not aspire to be equal to men. Which basically meant our relationship was doomed. When one of the ‘grooms’ he lined up reported back to his parents after talking to me, he said that I was ‘not fit for family’. My dad agreed with him. Hence, I am unmarried.

According to my mom:

The best!

“When will you get married? No one is good enough for my Poorni.... There must be a guy out there....Are you looking?...Who will be with you in the end?...If you don’t marry and have kids, where is the proof of your existence after you’re gone?..... Understanding is important....You must also adjust...Look at that couple on TV- such a good relationship....When will you get married?”

She tries so hard, my mom. She’s a darling, the very best. But she was miserable throughout her marriage and I never could save her. Hence, I am unmarried.

According to my relatives:

Does not compute!

There are two main reasons why I am unmarried, according to my relatives.

1. Thimuru – this is a unique Tamil word that marries headstrongness with pride. I have plenty of it, they say. I want to say they’re wrong...but hey, when I extend my eyebrows to their fullest height and look down my nose at them when I’m telling them I’ll take care of my own business, I can’t really blame them. They’re not used to this weird thing called ‘independence’.
2. Valarpu- basically, faulty upbringing. I can’t count the number of times my parents have been told, “But she can’t say no if you insist. Just fix the marriage and tell her.” It’s shocking that in this day and age,  there exists a large section of the Indian population who think their kids are to do with as they please. Like possessions or pets. “What kind of girl is that, who won’t listen to her parents?” The kind that has a brain, folks, the kind that has a brain.

So, summing up, thimiru and valarpu. Hence, I am unmarried.

According to my siblings:

Hell Spawn!

My sister's nickname for me is 'Cinder-villi' as in a Cinderalla who, granted, does her chores but is too villainous for words. She believes I was spawned in the cesspools of hell and I searched for her through the worlds before finally finding her and orchestrating my birth. My brother wouldn't go that far, but he wouldn't exactly protest it either. Sometimes, I believe it all. Hence, I am unmarried.

According to my friends:

Baffling!

“It’s a shame, really. Come, let’s go eat.”

And they say they care! Hmpf! Not one accidental encounter with an intelligent, well-read guy they just happen to know. Hence, I am unmarried.

According to my pets:

Yay!

“Stay with us forever and ever and ever and.....” The lights of my life. I would give up everything for them. People say I love animals more than I do humans. They’re right. With every fibre of my being, I do. Hence, I am unmarried.

According to me:

BS!

Dealbreakers. I think that when you have an actual list, it grows as you age. A less fancy way of putting that would be- the older I get, the less bullshit I’m willing to put up with. Hence, I am unmarried.

Actually:

Seriously though, it isn’t the easiest question to answer. I’ve always shied away from an ordinary life. Not that it is less, but simply because I wither away when I try to conform. Also, no one can say I’ve made a success of anything- I don’t have anything tangible to show for having lived the way I want to. I am not even deliriously happy. But I am at peace- which is the only thing that really matters to me (in my internal world, that is.) Finding a partner, a marriage that doesn’t destroy that peace, that only adds to it, implies a compatibility on so many levels that, to me, this question of why I’m not married yet is not really puzzling at all. I’m astonished instead, that so many people are!

So much so, that I think that should be the new question for this era- why are you married?

I think I’m onto something here!  ;)

Oooh, The Bubble!

I got cut out of a friend's life recently, because I did what I usually never do- after she indulged in a bitching session about her husband with me, I actually asked her if she trusted him. Here's the thing with a female friend in a relationship- she can say all that she wants to about her partner. All you must do is nod sympathetically. At the most, you can make a few noncommittal sounds. Just don't use words. 

Women seem to prefer delusion when it comes to their partners. The bubble must never be breathed upon. Because the shitty stuff will never happen to them. Their husbands, though somewhat flawed, are still beyond reproach, especially when it comes to fidelity. 

As a single woman in her 30's, I've personally come across a lot of married men who cheat or who want to cheat. Just download a tinder app on your phone and you'll see for yourself. They have every excuse under the sun. I always imagine the poor, hapless wife at home, sitting there believing her husband is the kind of guy who'd never do that to her. In the case of the friend I mentioned, I'm pretty sure he's playing the field.  

It's not just cheating. Most of the woman I know are with men who don't deserve them. Men who are emotionally unavailable, whose egos overshadow their personalities, whose stealth at cheating on their partners is quite remarkable, who are downright immature and selfish, who believe they're entitled to a wife-slave, and who are outright misogynists. And for all this they are each rewarded with a woman's compassion, companionship, selfless care, delicious meals, a warm body, admiration, friendship and fidelity. 

Apart from the obvious question, 'why do women settle for so little?' this issue begs for the answer to the far more pressing question- 'What's wrong with men?' 

There's a gender based empathy test called the Lemonade test and the results are quite amusing. 

Just to clarify, I speak also from experience, not just observation. For a former 'friend' I was with, there were innumerable safety catches in his mental relationship agreement. (FYI, these usually kick in after the honeymoon period of a relationship is over.) Sure, you can set up a hot water bath for me to ease my pain, but just because you're doing it for me, it doesn't mean I ever will or that I ever have to do so for you. After all, I never asked you to. If you expect it, it means that that's why you're doing it, so that you'll get it back, ergo you're not being selfless at all.' At the end of all that would be the ever present pride at the 'logic' of it all. I know why I was silent (why bother?), but what I wonder is- why did it take so long to get out?

I think that with women, it's not easy to give up on a relationship. That's why the actual break up so often turns messy. And that's why we stay in it for so long, when the rational parts of our minds are frantically screaming for relief. It takes courage to stand still and try harder and then it takes courage to face the truth and walk away. That's assuming one has the initial courage to look at the relationship and see what's wrong. Many prefer to  keep their eyes shut tightly, like the friend who cut me out. 

Beneath it all is the conviction that it just shouldn't be that hard. Which brings us back to 'What's wrong with men?' Is it the emotionally stunted childhood (boy's don't cry), coddling (my son won't do chores), entitled upbringing (boys will be boys), media brainwashing (men take, women give), stereotypical gender roles (I wear the pants here), primitive dominance (I'm a man),.... in fact, very little is right. This is why female empowerment is so important. 

When a woman takes a submissive role in a marriage, she's demonstrating to her son what his future marriage can be like- basically, what he can get away with. When she raises him without teaching him personal responsibility and self-sufficiency, she's setting up a woman somewhere for a really disappointing relationship.  When she lets slide even one opportunity to point out a common, yet misogynistic thought, belief or action, whatever the source, she's letting herself down and saying to him, yet again, women will take crap and it's okay. 

Why is a gender neutral society so long in the making? Since Adam and Eve, (figuratively speaking) we've been here a long time. But I guess most of that time's been spent mucking it all up, and the cleaning up part is relatively recent. Change is slow. Be it colonial rule, racism or male dominance, history tells us that oppressors apparently enjoy it too much to let it go, even when it's so blatantly,  painfully wrong. Sometimes, it seems like that rib of Adam's was the best part of him. 

Disclaimer: When I say 'men' in this write-up, I refer to 90% of the Indian men that I have come across or heard of. It does not mean men in general/all men, Indian or otherwise. And by 'women', I mean my female friends, acquaintances and women they know. And yes, women cheat, have their own flaws etc. Just not the women I know and have written about here- they're bloody amazing.

Immobile.

He's walking ahead of me in the corridor. All I can see is his back, yet I know; he knows I am behind him. His back is too rigid for him to not know, his head too immobile. He doesn't want to look back, because he can't look forward. Forward to a place and a time where a woman like me exists. Someone who cuts her hair short, who wears pants, and eyeliner, who has dared to remain single, unnaturally free from the yoke that a man rightfully imposes upon her, who doesn't cover her torso with a shawl and shame, who travels alone, whose forehead is not marked with religious fervor, who... the list is endless.

I am taller than him. I wonder if that bothers him. I watch his back, wondering if he'll turn. Why is there so much distance between us? Why is he so afraid of it? In his eyes, I am barely a woman. I try to imagine how it must be for him. If a being fits the description of a label only physically, but in no other way, could I accept it? A bear, brown and furry, but it flies in the air and glows at night. I want to tell him- but I'm normal, see? Just an average girl. It's you who lives in a different time. Then I look around- I'm in his world. I'm the odd one out. And he doesn't like it.

I've never really fully believed it when they say that people are afraid of the new. It isn't something I can quite grasp. In a Universe that destroys and recreates itself every second, what isn't new? And how could the new be anything but fascinating? I have much to learn. From a man who would blame a woman for her own rape? That's who he is. Yet, learning is learning. Not all books are pretty.

He told someone that I don't speak to him. Funny, because I did, the last time I saw him. I wished him good morning and I told him goodbye. Is fear deafening? Not literally. He's picking a fight, so that he may show me his power, so that he may make me suffer, so that he may punish me for ...being? So that he may make himself feel better. I doubt he will. So that he may reassure himself of his being in the right. He's not. Neither of us is wrong.

There will come a future when neither of us matters maybe. But now, we do. We do, because history repeats itself. Neanderthals and Homo sapiens fought for the right to live- a right they already had. All the wars- for rights already had. The Indians call it the Kali Yuga- an epoch of senseless violence. We live in it. We live in life.

Life reduces us in size and increases us in dimensions. Where did I read that? I want to tell him that. Could I make him understand, in a million years? I could use words that he knows, but there are worlds that he doesn't want to know. My world too.

Our worlds don't collide, not really. Why must we? Our worlds co-exist. Why can't we? He doesn't answer. He can't hear my questions. His fear is deafening, his back too rigid. He walks ahead of me, but his head is... immobile.

So bummed!

I solemnly vow to never ever again attempt to make a model of a diatomic molecule...

Ever.

Art Attack

So, I came across this article in the papers (when I was on the can (...TMI?)) and was flabbergasted. Really? The art world is fraught with such rivalries? It's almost like a parody! The world is one crazy place...

Not now.

I think the reason that I haven't written these last few months can be pinned down to something quite common- my past catching up with me. I topped my class in the first year B.Ed exams, both siblings visited, the most adorable puppy has taken over my home, I get to decorate a whole new house in our village, a new year has dawned with new possibilities and plans, and yet, in spite of all these beautiful things, all these nice moments 'in the now', I still look inside and see a darkness.

Every few nights, I dream of my father returning home. Sometimes he's middle aged, sometimes older. But always alive. And the more he shows up in my dreams, the more my waking moments are haunted by his presence, and his absence. How does one get over death? I don't know. People say that you don't really. You just learn to hide it better. I understand that.

What I have also come to understand is just how very fragile we all are. How much we all experience in life, how these experiences make us harder and softer at the same time. We learn to hide it or power through it, ignore it or bury it, break down, re-form or stay broken... sometimes we don't even know. I don't.

I don't know where I am. And that's why I haven't written. When you're lost, how do you find your words?