A Tragicomedy Based On A Single Act
(Some of the images in the following piece might be too disturbing for educated men and women below the age of 29.)
Symbolically enough, you might say, somewhere East of the city (not The West). The Delhi winter playing its game. Now a cold breeze, now the harsh rays of sun. A fog envelopes the city, which is, for the most part, asleep. That time of the day, when housewives are asleep, teachers back from school, some men are at work and others are pretending to.
A daughter goes up to her parents and her sister and says “I am not going to be happy with this decision. I realize I made a mistake. When I took this decision about two months back it made sense. But now that I know, before its too late I want to rectify it.” The Mother begins to weep.
The Father, as most fathers go, does not give away what he feels and what he is going to say. She had expressed this opinion once earlier. In the absence of the father, the mother had held her ground and lectured her on the values of compromises. Compromise, she knew that word. That was probably the third word she learnt as a child. Not Checkoslovakia, compromise. A for the Apple which Eve shouldn’t have eaten. B for the boy who will marry and own you. C for the compromises you will make in preparation for your marriage and thereafter. The mother ranted out case studies galore of people who had compromised. Married for so many years, she had forgotten where the word compromise ended and where U for unhappy began. So she spoke of the compromised lives her sisters, of her daughter, the neighbor, the neighbours daughter. An endless list. At last she came to herself. Over the years, she had seen it was possible to live unhappily for a lifetime. All you had to do was to accept that this was your destiny.
She seemed to not understand the word happiness. This is your destiny, she said. The daughter resisted but not for too long.
The baton was handed down to the daughter. The daughter who was always known to be more able. For some reason, she evaded her own case study and chose to focus her attention on the catch her sister had landed. In chorus they said the words “good family”.
It was a joke, really. A tragic sort of a joke. And She laughed in her head. A good family must be one that keeps its conflicts firmly within closed doors. No one ever finds out what happens behind those closed doors. Where a boy doesn’t talk to his father and the father doesn’t talk to his wife and the boy’s wife hates his father and does not like his mother.
A complicated web of unpleasantness hidden behind a smiling family photo. A good family must be exactly like a good marriage, She thought. It is a good marriage if the husband and the wife sleep on the same bed in the same room. Even if they have swords drawn at each other all night.
She shuddered at the thought that His family would be a “good family” as per her family’s definition.
But that was not the point, she insisted. Of course it is, only family matters nothing else does. Around the time your grandchildren are born you are going to die anyway. What’s the point of being happy?
Her mother managed to say this in between her tears. Her sister nodded her head.
Did She hear that right?
She looked at her father, in hope of sanity. Nothing else.
You are telling me that you have realized that your decision to get married to this guy was a mistake. The father spoke objectively.
Yes, I am.
And why do you say that?
Well, it's basically the guy. Over the past couple of months, speaking with him I have realized we are very different from each other and there is no compatibility. His values, his ideas. Nothing matches.
But all couples are different from each other. And if you ask me that is very important for a marriage to work out.
But there have to be certain basic things that match. That fit together. We just don't have that.
But that's what a marriage is about. Making things work, fitting them together. (Ah, that word will surface again!) (Surprise Surprise! He didn't say it!)
Compromise. Her father said.
(Thought too soon.)
No marriage is successful without a compromise, you should adjust with the differences.
It's not just about differences. There are some basic traits in him that I dislike and I can't stand and I will never be able to accomodate to those things.
He's such a nice guy am sure if you tell him he will understand and try to change those things. (The sister interjected)
She didn't say anything, just looked at her sister, then her husband and then back at her again. Too much had been said with that one look.
You will have to change if you have problems with things. How can you expect the other person to change when you are the one who has problems?
And what about things that he wants changed in me?
Obviously you will have to change them, he must be saying that for your own good.
She smiled.
Now don't give me all of your NGO nonsense about why do women have to change all the time and all of that. I've met him and I really found him to be quite a decent guy. A gem of a person.
She again looked at her sister and her husband.
I am not saying he is a decent guy. I'm not even saying he is a bad person. All I am saying is that cannot be enough reason for me to get married to him.
There was a pause. Long pause. Not very uncomfortable, but long.
It was obvious, the verdict would be announced soon. But for her mother's sniffling, there was silence in the room.
Her eyes were fixed on her father. Her only hope. This place was too familiar for her. She hated the familiarity. She knew how it always ended. With an unexplained or ill-explained refusal. A refusal that could not be questioned, let alone challenged.
But the fact was, for many smaller things in her life, she had challenged the refusal and had her own way. Is that what she would have to do again? Until this moment of silence, she had hoped that being honest would help her salvage her life.
As far as I am concerned, I have made a commitment to my people and his people that this marriage would happen. You have to live up to that commitment and do whatever you have to do, to make this happen.
But I'm telling you I won't be happy, does that not mean anything to you?
You will just have to find a way to be happy.
She got up and left the room because she could see what came next, from her mother, her sister, her husband. A congregation of people who were going to make her feel guilty for having the guts to admit her mistake. That is what they would do. Because they didn't have the guts to stand by her.
It was clear, they were asking her to choose lifelong unhappiness over embarrassment that might just last a few months.
In her mind, her decision was made. The world was obviously not interested in hearing her verdict just as yet. They will just have to wait their while.
Symbolically enough, you might say, somewhere East of the city (not The West). The Delhi winter playing its game. Now a cold breeze, now the harsh rays of sun. A fog envelopes the city, which is, for the most part, asleep. That time of the day, when housewives are asleep, teachers back from school, some men are at work and others are pretending to.
A daughter goes up to her parents and her sister and says “I am not going to be happy with this decision. I realize I made a mistake. When I took this decision about two months back it made sense. But now that I know, before its too late I want to rectify it.” The Mother begins to weep.
The Father, as most fathers go, does not give away what he feels and what he is going to say. She had expressed this opinion once earlier. In the absence of the father, the mother had held her ground and lectured her on the values of compromises. Compromise, she knew that word. That was probably the third word she learnt as a child. Not Checkoslovakia, compromise. A for the Apple which Eve shouldn’t have eaten. B for the boy who will marry and own you. C for the compromises you will make in preparation for your marriage and thereafter. The mother ranted out case studies galore of people who had compromised. Married for so many years, she had forgotten where the word compromise ended and where U for unhappy began. So she spoke of the compromised lives her sisters, of her daughter, the neighbor, the neighbours daughter. An endless list. At last she came to herself. Over the years, she had seen it was possible to live unhappily for a lifetime. All you had to do was to accept that this was your destiny.
She seemed to not understand the word happiness. This is your destiny, she said. The daughter resisted but not for too long.
The baton was handed down to the daughter. The daughter who was always known to be more able. For some reason, she evaded her own case study and chose to focus her attention on the catch her sister had landed. In chorus they said the words “good family”.
It was a joke, really. A tragic sort of a joke. And She laughed in her head. A good family must be one that keeps its conflicts firmly within closed doors. No one ever finds out what happens behind those closed doors. Where a boy doesn’t talk to his father and the father doesn’t talk to his wife and the boy’s wife hates his father and does not like his mother.
A complicated web of unpleasantness hidden behind a smiling family photo. A good family must be exactly like a good marriage, She thought. It is a good marriage if the husband and the wife sleep on the same bed in the same room. Even if they have swords drawn at each other all night.
She shuddered at the thought that His family would be a “good family” as per her family’s definition.
But that was not the point, she insisted. Of course it is, only family matters nothing else does. Around the time your grandchildren are born you are going to die anyway. What’s the point of being happy?
Her mother managed to say this in between her tears. Her sister nodded her head.
Did She hear that right?
She looked at her father, in hope of sanity. Nothing else.
You are telling me that you have realized that your decision to get married to this guy was a mistake. The father spoke objectively.
Yes, I am.
And why do you say that?
Well, it's basically the guy. Over the past couple of months, speaking with him I have realized we are very different from each other and there is no compatibility. His values, his ideas. Nothing matches.
But all couples are different from each other. And if you ask me that is very important for a marriage to work out.
But there have to be certain basic things that match. That fit together. We just don't have that.
But that's what a marriage is about. Making things work, fitting them together. (Ah, that word will surface again!) (Surprise Surprise! He didn't say it!)
Compromise. Her father said.
(Thought too soon.)
No marriage is successful without a compromise, you should adjust with the differences.
It's not just about differences. There are some basic traits in him that I dislike and I can't stand and I will never be able to accomodate to those things.
He's such a nice guy am sure if you tell him he will understand and try to change those things. (The sister interjected)
She didn't say anything, just looked at her sister, then her husband and then back at her again. Too much had been said with that one look.
You will have to change if you have problems with things. How can you expect the other person to change when you are the one who has problems?
And what about things that he wants changed in me?
Obviously you will have to change them, he must be saying that for your own good.
She smiled.
Now don't give me all of your NGO nonsense about why do women have to change all the time and all of that. I've met him and I really found him to be quite a decent guy. A gem of a person.
She again looked at her sister and her husband.
I am not saying he is a decent guy. I'm not even saying he is a bad person. All I am saying is that cannot be enough reason for me to get married to him.
There was a pause. Long pause. Not very uncomfortable, but long.
It was obvious, the verdict would be announced soon. But for her mother's sniffling, there was silence in the room.
Her eyes were fixed on her father. Her only hope. This place was too familiar for her. She hated the familiarity. She knew how it always ended. With an unexplained or ill-explained refusal. A refusal that could not be questioned, let alone challenged.
But the fact was, for many smaller things in her life, she had challenged the refusal and had her own way. Is that what she would have to do again? Until this moment of silence, she had hoped that being honest would help her salvage her life.
As far as I am concerned, I have made a commitment to my people and his people that this marriage would happen. You have to live up to that commitment and do whatever you have to do, to make this happen.
But I'm telling you I won't be happy, does that not mean anything to you?
You will just have to find a way to be happy.
She got up and left the room because she could see what came next, from her mother, her sister, her husband. A congregation of people who were going to make her feel guilty for having the guts to admit her mistake. That is what they would do. Because they didn't have the guts to stand by her.
It was clear, they were asking her to choose lifelong unhappiness over embarrassment that might just last a few months.
In her mind, her decision was made. The world was obviously not interested in hearing her verdict just as yet. They will just have to wait their while.