Tag Archives: Marriage

Dear Lovers, Don’t Drop The Pretence


By Joybrato Dutta

Love is what you assumed Leonardo felt for Kate in Titanic. Love is what burnt Troy. A fulfilled love story inspires marriages that are filled with ‘awwww’ moments, but an incomplete one inspires generations to love. As strange as it may sound but the couples by which most lovers swear by – Romeo & Juliet, Heer & Ranjha, Laila and Majnu, didn’t really end up marrying. So most lovers know how to love, but they don’t know the next step.

And then comes Valentine’s Day. A day when every lover gets the license to upgrade his or her relationship. Teenage lovers propose for love, couples in their early 20s propose for a commitment, while their counterparts in the late 20s propose for marriage. And then there are those hardcore lovers who believe in living in the present. So they make love instead of making a commitment.

But people graduate from colleges. They get into workplaces where they believe that they have matured. They believe that for lovers, every day is a Valentine’s Day. They believe that lovers don’t need a special day to express love, because with each other every moment is special.


You don’t send flowers to your lover every day.

Nor do you send chocolates.

And you definitely don’t take her out on a long drive or a candle light dinner every day.

You don’t even attend her calls. Yes you can blame the frenetic times, the offices, the tuitions, the promised billiards game, and the Teen Patti, but you cannot deny the fact that you don’t make your lover feel special every day.

Which is precisely why I believe in the importance of Valentine’s Day. It gives us something to look forward to, some excitement in life, a chance to start afresh, a chance to rekindle a dormant spark. So I suggest don’t drop the pretence, send her flowers (sponsored by Ferns and petals), cards (sponsored by Archie’s), and chocolates (sponsored by Cadbury’s), because every day is not a Valentine’s Day.

P.S. – The above note is for people in a relationship. Dear stags, Happy Vaseline Day. 


Chronicles Of A Mom – To – Be!! Woo Ho – PART 1


By Shwetha Kalyanasundaram

Two educational degrees – check! Career – check! Marriage – Check! Love – Check! Baby – Err?!?

A couple of months into our blissful marriage, a delayed period turned our lives into a tizzy! Barf! The numerous visits to the bathroom to retch, occasional dizziness, a freaked out husband!

Could I be pregnant?!?

The neurotics that we both are, we both spent a couple of sleepless nights googling out the numerous signs hoping that they could just be false alarms. There was no way that I could be pregnant. A baby was definitely not in our bucket list of things to do in our first year of marriage (sigh).

And soon enough, the first appointment with the gynecologist – the doc who delivered my husband! After a few milliliters of blood less and an empty bladder and two hours of waiting, the big P – moment finally arrived! We had done it!  I was PREGNANT!!!

An ecstatic mom and dad – in – law and overjoyed parents and a hurried call to my husband to regroup back in the house, my fingers were crossed! How do I break the news to him?!? Numerous flashes of the Cadbury’s ad showcasing the wife breaking the news of her pregnancy kept playing in my mind. Do I follow a similar technique?

The husband arrives…with a bunch of flowers and a box of my favorite chocolates! What?!? Am I dreaming?!? A warm hug and a kiss on the forehead later, and with a wide grin on his face, “Can you believe it baby? We’re gonna be PARENTS soon!!”

Let the celebrations begin!

What happens next, stay tuned!

तू खूबसूरत है बहोत


By Syed Bilal

तू खूबसूरत है बहोत

जानती है क्या !
संगेमरमरी मूरत है तू
पहचानती है क्या !
पलकों में तेरी सुबह की
आहट कुबुलाती है
नैन जब खुलते है तेरे
तो सुबहा  मुस्कुराती है ,
मेरी सुबहा और शाम है तू
जानती है क्या !
मेरी सुराही मेरा जाम है तू
पहचानती है क्या !
तू चाँद की करवट है
नदिया का पनघट है
दरिया की सरहद है
जानती है क्या !
रोते हुए चेहरे पे
हसी की दस्तक है
पहचानती है क्या !
आँखें है तेरी दो दीये
रोशन सा इनमे नूर है
मुड़कर जो देखे जिस तरफ
दीवाली छोड़ जाती है
जानती है क्या !
बाहें फैला जो खड़ी होती तू
बारिश तुझपे उतर आती है
पहचानती है क्या !
आपका :

He Got The Girl And I Ended With Monetary Wounds


By Anshuman Sharvesh

Occasion, lavishness and orchestra were all there. Gorgeous ladies and some well-groomed men were also in attendance. Mouth-watering food accompanied profligate beverages. In such a moment, If someone seizes your attention with his uninteresting face, you can guess he must have paid the bill and has to be the bride’s father.

This fairy-tale is of my best friend’s wedding and the only two people who were feeling miserable there were I and my friend’s father-in-law. It’s no rocket science to figure out the reason for his feelings. I would have felt the same had I needed to put so much money on a marriage. The heart would sink seeing so much money melt away. There was another minor reason, my friend taking away his daughter. You though must be wondering why was I feeling miserable but believe me, I, had every reason to be.

Everything started with a phone call,”#*^beep beep, it’s my marriage on 20th and you need to be there”. I said yes with all energy, which fizzled the moment I kept the phone down. The date of the marriage was just 15-days away. I checked IRCTC but it disappointed me again for the billionth time. I first cursed the population and then called a broker who I knew would suck up my savings but get me a ticket using all corrupt methods he could. The monies he asked were enough to depress but I realized that would not help, as I had to shop for a marriage. Let me tell you the fact that I hate savings as well for the simple reason that it makes me feel how well I could have utilized the same money I would pump into buying some new clothes. I still managed to buy something that made me look better than how I actually felt inside.

The day arrived and I was all decked up having painted the fairness creams they boast of making you fair in minutes. As customary nowadays, people called me for dance. I realized how no one actually cared of what I was wearing making me feel ashamed of so much money spent to no avail. The result of all that dance was that I arrived at the marriage hall sweating, hair haywire, wet shirt and the groom who had spent all this time in the air conditioned car was like he has just landed from the salon. Not a single girl looked at me and I was actually seeing the money burning in front of my eyes. I sat around the corner and watched the entire ceremony without a single nap. I saw my friend getting garlanded by all jewels especially the two expensive rings, one watch and one gold chain.

In the morning we left with the bride, everyone was tired and exhausted excluding the one with the beautiful bride and expensive gifts. All exhausted I too left for my home and slept till evening as I had a train to catch at night. Leaving home is always a problem but after bidding goodbye as I was leaving for the station the only wish up my sleeve was to see my name in the confirmed list of passengers. It was WL 2 when I had booked it and unless someone is terribly unlucky this converts.

I though was having a pissful time and the final status turned out to be WL 1. In dire straights I booked a flight to return as the deadlines in office had to be met. As I landed in Delhi, these were the exact lines that I spoke “He got the girl, the watches and expensive rings and I lost my money…#beep not even a single person praised my suit…#beep not a single girl looked at me and here I am at IGI airport again bargaining with the autowala”, but between all this someone inside said and I quote again “DUDE AT LEAST YOU R STILL SINGLE…ENJOY BEING ALIVE”.

Twitterati And The Madras HC Sentence On Pre-Marital Sex And Marriage


Madras High Court still trends on Twitter after their sentence yesterday was misread by a section who jump the gun without trying to lift it. Here are some epic ones

Anand (@_Anand_i): Employee: Sir, shadi k liye chhutti chahiye. Boss: Arey, chutti ki kya zaroorat h.Lunch hour mein niptaa lo na.

Kanika Upadhya (‏@NikkiUpadhyay): So how many of you have woken up married this morning? :p

Alabhya Narang ‏(@alabhya_mufc): “marriages are made in heaven” acc to the new law marriages are made in bed

Ramesh Srivats ‏(@rameshsrivats): Karunanidhi: Hahaha. I’ve been married three times. Sunny Leone: Hehe. Poda, amateur.

Shiv Aroor ‏(@ShivAroor)“I’m breaking up with you. All you are interested in is marriage.”
shammy baweja ‏(@shammybaweja)So, is there no such thing as being single anymore
Sorabh Pant ‏(@hankypanty): Next time you touch yourself – you aren’t masturbating, you’re throwing away a million rishtas.
milind soman ‏(@milindrunning): Thank God my wives now have other husbands
Pratik Trivedi ‏(@ptrivedi2186): How many of you got married last night?
And finally
Screw Driver ‏(@iamritjangid): U don’t need a mangalsutra, u just need a room.

Marwari is Who Gets Wet, Globalisation/Privatisation/Modernisation or Otherwise


Rohit Sakunia takes upon a Tehelka article which with poor subtlety bashes a community. Here’s a rebut bit by bit. 

Let me in the beginning itself tell the viewers that this article was written in 2010. I am sure the author must have by now gained for some sane hood and would not be having the same opinions. Nonetheless the rebuttal was necessary.

So she starts the article by pointing to the fact that she is a Marwari and knows the community. I beg to differ. She says three words define the world of a Marwari man: Taboo, Society and Marriage. Did she just forget sophistication, business acumen, economic sense, modernity? The she writes the Marwari’s as “India’s most repressed community”. Really? Has she even been to 50 Marwari families before writing this line? Research is one weapon that every journalist should possess in her armoury, unfortunately not in case of this author.

She continues to write unnecessarily that “pleasure is the tribe’s best kept secret — for generations, ‘good values’ have elevated them above base desire. Except when no one is at home — the remote is duly programmed to the cleavage show on Fashion TV”. Little does she know that this is the characteristic of all tribe? All kids grow up watching FTV without their parents consent. I would like to know whether our dear author saw it with her parents, especially the midnight show.

Then she comes down to haunting the ladies of the community writing that “She can now indulge in a career (mostly a hobby or a fashion designing boutique run from home) as long as she’s present when the men return, tired from a day of gold-digging”. Let me rebut this very clearly. I work in one of the world’s biggest companies and 3 out of 5 in my team are married and Marwari women. My wife is a Marwari and is a financial researcher in a leading company. My sister is a Marwari, married to a Marwari and is a doctor. If you thought I belong to an outlier family, check the story of 50% of the educated Marwari families and you will know for better.

The author then comes down further saying “Any display of dazzling cleavage, however, is strictly taboo”. Can it get more ridiculous than this? Do women have to show cleavage to show modernity these days? I am sure even western would not accept this as a standard for being modern. Goes on to show what all writers can do to sell copies.

She does not stop here and comes to the men. She writes “The diktat for men is more production oriented — “Get married, have a business with 1,000 slaves under you and procreate, procreate, procreate, until you have a male child.” I know of a Marwari businessmen from the dotcom domain. I won’t take his name but would say that he comes from a very traditional business family. He not only build a business around new media but the point that is more important in the context is that this gentlemen has two daughters and is pretty proud of them. The basic point is, let’s not get to the point of ridiculous.

Then she goes on to what is probably the most refutable point in the entire copy. She writes “Munna Babu, Munna Halwai, Munnaji, the Marwari man has remained the eternal infant, always Mummy’s Suitable Boy”. Now which child grows to be a man for her mother? My mom (and am on the wrong side of the 20’s) still catches hold of my ears when I make a mistake, still loves me as she used to when I was an infant, still gets angry and still gets tears if I get hurt and am sure women of all communities feel the same for their children, irrespective of their gender.

The author actually baffles me when she writes this “If political inner life is an essential ingredient of an intellectual man, the Marwari draws a blank. (Proximity to the office of the Finance Minister does not count.) At his core, the Marwari man is a staid, almost docile, apolitical creature. Independent thinking has never been a good value. Asking questions is taboo”. I would ask her to go do a research study on this. Yes, its 100% correct that a Marwari has great domain knowledge in his/her business area but he is equally politically aware. In fact the growing number of Marwari’s in the political circle is just an example.

Yes, I agree to the author’s point that the usual markers of identity are generally absent. The reason being a Marwari goes in and settles anywhere where he finds he can do a business in. He mixes with local group their very easily and adapts to his surrounding faster than any community. He tries to be one and same with majority wherever he goes and to me this is a great accomplishment in a country like India which divides itself on caste, language lines.

When the author talks of dowry, she forgets that the modern Marwari girl stands tall against any form of dowry and is pretty well aware of her rights.

She closes by saying that “In many ways, the new Marwari man is synthetic, almost plastic; you miss scruffy edges, raw soul, eccentric passion.” How blank a statement that is. The new Marwari man is not one but two step ahead of his predecessors. He feels a working, educated wife is much better than a housewife for reasons like support and advice. He has the world open to him through the internet and is looking for options way beyond traditional businesses.

Overall an article that clearly looks like written in haste and like a rant, without any due diligence. The author could have done better than just scribbling what came to mind. Marwari’s were never what she made them look like, not the least is a better expression. It would help if she does some talking to a few Marwari’s around.

PS: Just because you are a journalist and have not ended up making enough money, does not mean you bash any and every Marwari who knows what he is doing, is not confused and is still aware. 

Yours Lovingly Marwari

marwari bottom

Battle of the Sexes in The Story of an Hour

The Story of an HourTrue to the title, The Story of an Hour is a story of one hour in the life of the protagonist, Louise Mallard, who is ‘happily married’. When she hears about the death of her husband her immediate reaction is remorse. However, a while later, she feels ecstatic on being free! Mrs. Mallard cries with abandon instead of being paralysed with shock at the misfortune. While she withdraws to her personal space to reflect on her future life, a realization dawns on her which makes her cry out “free, free….Free! Body and soul free!” Ironically, she dies on seeing her husband alive and unhurt by the train accident.

The simple words of Mrs. Mallard allude to her subjugated status. The experience of ecstasy at being liberated from what seems to be an agreeable marriage is the crux of the story. Mrs. Mallard’s situation is not an isolated incident of repression in the lives of the so-called ‘happily married’ couples. The significant sentences which convey the rigid patriarchal domination and Mrs. Mallard’s subsequent relief at her husband’s demise were, “There would be no powerful will bending hers in a blind persistence with which men and women believe they have a right to impose a private will upon a fellow-creature. A kind intention or a cruel intention made the act seem no less a crime….”

The subtlety with which Chopin delineates the mindscape of a woman trapped in a despotic Kate Chopinmarriage and her realization of her zest for freedom is commendable. Mrs. Mallard’s first name being revealed only towards the end of the story is significant since it shows the subsumption of the wife’s identity in her husband’s. Ironically, the protagonist experiences tragedy and liberty at the same time. But the real irony and paradox lies in the doctor’s comment of “a joy that kills” at the death of Mrs. Mallard.

A hardcore feminist, Chopin’s intention behind writing the story seems to be to emphasize the damaging results of the battle between the sexes. The subtle expressions, metaphors and paradoxes combined with the economy of words add to the impact of the story.