"Shruti, you have to know why I'm worried about it," Seema says after a while. Shruti had hoped that the conversation was over but the strange feeling in her gut told her otherwise. And when Seema says that, Shruti dutifully replies, "Yes, maa?"
"You know if it had just been a dalliance; I wouldn't have worried. You're not like Shweta; you don't jump headfirst into anything. Even swimming pools, from what I remember. You were always so cautious, tiptoeing into the pool even long after you learnt how to swim. Unlike your sister of course. She jumped headfirst into the pool on her first day."
"So, if you were just dallying- I wouldn't ask you to be very cautious. But this is a marriage that you're talking about. And marriage; in India, you will find don't have a very 'individualistic' approach. You won't just get married to the boy- you will find roles beyond being a wife thrust onto you overnight. And some very uncomfortable compromises." Seema says, wondering if her daughter was even understanding a word of what she was saying.
"Uncomfortable compromises?" Shruti asks, bewildered. What was her mother talking about?
How could Seema explain to her daughters what they had never witnessed? That all of the iciness that had shrouded her when Sanjay had left hadn't been simply due to his absence; but because of the lack of support from anyone on his side of the family? That there hadn't been so much as a courtesy phone call or a visit- except her mother-in-law.
But her mother-in-law hadn't been a woman who had much warmth; even when Sanjay had been present in their lives. That before he'd left; Seema had felt the constant, subtle feeling of being out-of-place when they went over to meet his family during the girls' vacations?
Or the weddings, funerals, engagements, and countless occasions that she'd missed on her side of the family; because every time she made a plan, an 'emergency' one arose on his side of the family.
How there had been family members she still passed on the street sometimes, who wouldn't so much as meet her eyes after all these years. And how there had once been family members who wouldn't so much as meet her eyes even when Sanjay had been around. That the acute, out-of-place-ness that marriage brings for women- what was that feeling? And how was she to explain it to her daughters?
And how Sanjay had never suffered from it.
Nobody ever believed that he was obligated to attend events on Seema's side of the family. Or take care of Seema's mother when she was sick. If he was 'busy'; it was alright. Marriage seemed to have given him the bonus of Seema's presence, her kindness, and her willingness to help out.
On the other hand, for her- it seemed to have her spread out too thin. Marriage, doubling the support for men and halves that for women.
Shruti and Shweta; when they were old enough to comprehend grief and pain- saw their mother suffering from only the heartbreak. They didn't see the trials that had come before it; or the little heartbreaks that no one seems to tell you marriage is made up of. And while the world was changing; Seema wasn't sure desi society had still changed as much. If Shruti were to get married; she would find out about all these compromises in an uncomfortable manner.
And Seema wondered if she could prepare her daughters for something they hadn't really witnessed.
Seema had, after Sanjay left, mobilized whatever little support she could find on her own side of the family. Make amends with cousins whose marriages she hadn't been able to attend, newborns who were acquainted with her only after they were five! And it had taken time, patience, and hard work to undo all those years of damage that absence had done.
And her girls; as modern and independent as they hoped to be- could marriage with its' compromises even be a feasible proposition? Seema couldn't believe that she was thinking of it- but she couldn't help but feel that her daughters would have much easier lives if they never chose a new name for their lovers.
Husbands- turn you into wives, daughters-in-law, and everybody's favorite scapegoat for all things wrong with women.
"Marriage, Shruti," Seema says, solemnly. "It will ask you to be more than just a wife."
"What do you mean?' Shruti asks.
"Daughter-in-law, sister-in-law, niece-in-law... just so many more roles," Seema says, looking at her daughter, her green eyes looking at Seema with concern and nervousness.
"And?" Shruti asks, with the easy unconcerned air of someone who had never witnessed how having too many roles could strip you of your own identity.
"And, my love," Seema says, overcome by her affection for her beautiful, young daughter. So untainted by the world.
"Will you be able to have time for being Shruti when you are doing all of that?"
"What do you mean?" Shruti asks.
"Gender roles aren't as erased as you and Shweta want to believe. And I do not know what your Ashish thinks, or how he does. But I can assure you that even if he thinks well and means well- not everyone in his family is going to be the same. Why do you think I work with surgeons who perform five-hour surgeries and still have to go home and cook dinner for their husbands? That I've seen my colleagues describe one of their most heartbreaking moments as the time she was washing dishes after her entire family was in bed? That all of the years of study, slogging, working extra hours, her feet swollen from doing rounds at the hospital and she was still expected to go to bed only after having finished up everything?" Seema says, wanting not to scare her daughter but knowing she needed to be told of the reality.
"I don't think I've thought that far, maa," Shruti says, her mother's words putting everything into a new perspective.
"I know. And I don't want to scare you. But marriage, Shruti is every day. And every day is always easier for men than it is for women. That's just the world we live in." Seema says.
"But ... but..." Shruti says, the world her mother is painting a portrait of is very bleak and she doesn't like that. "Do you suggest that I spend the rest of my life lonely?"
"Oh, Shruti." Seema says, "You can be just as lonely being around people too. That's what I'm saying."
"What if we both settle in Belgium? That he and I are completely removed from both our families?" Shruti asks, desperately.
"Marriage is every day on every continent." Seema lets out a little chuckle. "I don't want you to be scared, Shruti. But you must know what marriage looks like.
Marriage isn't an epilogue of a book or the end destination for your love. It's the beginning of a series of trials and it transforms people. Marriage can be beautiful- but not like the ending of a book is. There is no finality after marriage like we're led to believe. Marriage is beautiful like the opening of a game is- there's no guarantee that both of you will survive it, but you're choosing to do that with each other." Seema says.
"You're making it sound like the hunger games, maa," Shruti says.
"I just want you to do your due research before you think of it, that's all," Seema says.
"I'm thinking if I do all my 'due research' I'll be a spinster forever," Shruti says, rather crossly.
"And what's wrong with that?" Seema asks, genuinely surprised by her daughter's reaction.
"I just don't want to be alone, sad, and lonely. Not lonely forever, you know. I want children, a family, pets and I want to be myself too. These are the roles that I want- and maybe I can't have them without getting all the ones that I don't want to. But maybe, it's worth it." Shruti says.
"You do realize that you do not have to be married for any one of those things?" Seema asks. "That is the beauty of being a girl in this time."
"What do you mean?" Shruti asks.
"Is it necessary for two people in love to get married?" Seema asks.
"Are you saying..." Shruti gazes at her mother. "Are you saying you'd much rather I will be in a live-in relationship for the rest of my life? That you'd be okay with me having children who aren't out of marriage?"
"I can see how that might put you in a slightly dangerous situation fiscally. But with the right investments, you should be covered. And single mothers aren't all that bad. You should ask me." Seema says, not directly answering her daughter's question. She felt her desi-motherly-instincts scream at herself. But Seema was far too practical now to let it disrupt her.
"Wow, maa," Shruti says. "This just puts everything in a new perspective. I didn't realize that... something like that could be an option too."
"Not for a lot of girls, it still isn't," Seema says, lovingly. "But for you, it always will be."
Only over the course of years would Shruti grow to appreciate the simple support and solidarity her mother had shown her. That in one single statement, 'but for you it always will be' Seema had managed to both set her free and provide her with security. Shruti would be very grateful that her mother hadn't simply scolded her for 'how dare you get engaged without my permission' like she'd expected her to do.
But her mother had sat down and discussed with her the realities of marriage and what settling into a marriage without knowing who you are can create. As annoyed as she was with her mother for telling her the truth- for getting her out of her dreams of a tangerine wedding lehenga- she was grateful that she was well informed about the reality of the situation that she would be entering.
Shruti and Shweta had not been afforded the luxury of watching their parents grow bitter because of marriage. That had been taken away from them- before they even began to care about social institutions like marriage.
And when they did- they had been bombarded with happy images of smiling couples. Romanticized proposals and destinations weddings in Goa where everyone gets high. Anyone who gets divorced is often looked upon as an 'exception' to this happy lie. But the truth is that desi culture derives its' 'stability' from stifling the individual wants of both partners in the marriage. That is the most common reason why arranged marriages work out so well in India- 'log kya kahenge'? What will people say if we walk out of our twenty-year-old marriage?
People will shake their heads at your misfortune but then go into their own bathrooms and cry a little because they don't have the courage to walk out of their dead marriages!
Divorce is still a privilege but it isn't an exception like we're led to believe. If marriages are the norm- then happy marriages are the exception.
And if your wife is still cooking a three-course meal in the kitchen when you're both senior citizens- that isn't a happy marriage. That's a quicksand where women aren't even afforded the privilege of growing old while he rests on a rocking chair and reads the newspaper. There is no retirement for homemakers- our grandmothers should be applauded for the amount of work they've done their entire lives.
Shruti and Shweta had always believed themselves to be the exception. Daughters were raised by a single mother, a broken marriage, and a broken home. And it had taken twenty-five years for Shruti to understand that there was nothing 'broken' about their home. They had both been raised by a woman who had quietly challenged social norms and decided that her daughters would be raised by a woman who knew how to love herself first.
And love as strong as that is never broken.
A/n: Strong opinions in this chapter, eh? Any thoughts?