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With only 14/36 gunas matching we were predicted to fail with not even passing marks on the astrological matrimonial scoreboard .Conceived in inter-religious differences I turned for some assurance from my wisest Brahmin uncle and he came up with the most heart-warming explanation that ours was a “Gandharva Vivah “ one of the ancient form of marriage described in Rig Veda where woman chooses her lover to be her husband, meeting him at their own accord, consenting to live together, consummation of their marriage without requiring the consent of parents. He quoted Dushyant- Shakuntala as an example. Nine years of courtship encompassing thousand odd fights I was completely sold to the idea and tied the knot three days before my official church wedding in my Pharmacology professor’s quarters. A Telagu Brahmin more a father figure than the teacher he did my Kanyadaan out of pure simple affection for us. A borrowed red saree, a gifted Thali from the Professor’s wife who also put oil and turmeric , few mad friends who graced us with their presence after excusing themselves from their internship duties and we got married in a drawing room in a simple ceremony.
Since the dowry was missing we got to pose around the new Honda scooter brought by the Professor few days ago. A visit to the Surya temple in the evening and the simple and sweet Gandharva Vivah made me feel married to Dushyant aka D’Souza and I felt like Shakuntala. He had already proposed two years ago in front of crazy drunk friends where his 6 foot frame went down on his knees and asked if I would marry him shyly. The proposal ring was brought from the sale of music system which I had gifted him with addition of some more savings from the ridiculously small stipend received in post-graduation at the Missionary medical hospital. The impulsive person that I am I ended up falling for the wrong guy at first sight amongst the eligible variety available. The calculating mindset was absent even then and I could not wait to say yes. This was going to be my first and last mistake in love.
He was tall, dark and handsome, a completely contrasting character from the guy my parents had in mind , average in studies for whom consistency of passing mattered more than the ranks in class. He brought me the smallest affordable teddy bears on Valentine’s day and preferred buying food than flowers. He smoked, drank and never ever danced or sang at the college parties and fests. Shabbily dressed, he bunked his classes regularly to play his TT matches with his senior and went for all the late night movies. Talk about love is blind, I think my retina has big macular holes so there was no question of a vision in marriage. I was madly in love and he drives me mad just the same with his behavior. Nothing has changed. I can only blame the priest who explained the meaning of the wedding rituals in Telagu while the bridal-couple understood only Hindi and English. The content was lost in the excitement of my own Gandharva Vivah movie screening and I think everything got misunderstood. 25 years into a rafting experience of a relationship which had been pronounced fated at multiple occasions by our own respective familial characters , I was curious to understand the real meaning of Seven vows and fear while scrolling through an interesting wedding invite.
Though I am very proud of my abilities as a capable woman I have clean bowled my own husband quite a few times. Actually quite regularly in all honesty. We have only few fours and sixes to our credit and we have tired each other quite a bit while trying to score singles. Walking into the wedding venue as a proud Baarati in a family function recently the red Pagdi , the band , the music, the food ,the flowers all started to send subtle reminders of how we begin and how we end up. The vows that the priest was explaining elaborately needed revision.We forget them in the nitty gritty of life. The new found wisdom that has prevailed now has come in exchange of gifting my life partner lots of bruises and punches , a pain which he is unable to express except in forwarded stupid what’s app jokes taking a dig on wives. Not that he was less lethal. In his true sportsman spirit we have played long rallies tiring each other in the bargain and the match ending up as draw. Siting in the wedding Mandap bathed in orange red lights I paid attention to each one of them in the ritual, some soul stirring conversation began within. As the fire flickered distantly the young couple getting married made each other those Seven promises. I sat in complete silence reminiscing all the mistakes I made in my life , partaking in all the drama whose screenplay I should get credits for . I was getting ready to see my own marks card. A decent B plus with lots of scope for improvement. The remarks are mentioned below as I have faltered across each of the seven steps.
First step : Thank you dear husband for all the adventures we were a part off in the past and present. All those moments and memories have rooted me in the joyous, romantic, fun-filled part of our lives . Even the scary , dark by-lanes where you left me for short periods taught me to conquer my own fears and loneliness . You returned every time unfailingly to grip my hands and pull me over to the other side. I realized later that you had just taken few steps ahead to check if all was safe ahead for us to travel. I now look forward with renewed strength for the future ones. I know by now that you have been one solid rock of my life that just stood guarding me.
Second step: Hubby , I seek forgiveness for those times when I grew resentful and unaccepting of differences between us of parenting, backgrounds, culture, status, language, religion , food habits, family values etc. etc. The same differences that magnetized our union in the first place when viewed from inside out opened my eyes to a new hidden reality where I had to learn and develop to accommodate more than I thought was possible.
I learnt to acknowledge you as a person but before that I needed to understand your origin and lose some of my originality to fit in.
Third step : Darling , thank you for drilling into me through some brilliant strokes that I need to treat you in the same manner I want to be treated . Forgive me for the hard times I gave you and appreciate me that I have now learnt the Christmas carols while you continue to attune yourself to Gayathri Mantra at ceremonies. I promise that as long as you keep cracking jokes on my Ghas-phoos preferences in food I will keep adding more salt and chilly in your already spicy mutton curry prepared by your mom. What is life without a little masala anyway ? Hardest I hereby rest my case of competition with your mother and allow her the elevated status while I switch into playing the role of second fiddle gracefully now that our daughter competes for the same in your heart. Through her you will learn some lessons for which I never could teach you. I ensure that there will be no tug of war rather I will let you fall by loosening the grip at my end . I will pick you up only when requested.
Fourth step : Dearest , I am glad that I chose you as my bestie in the sack race where we have toppled and fallen flat in the charming ,flavored seasons of youth and enjoying the crispiness of middle age. The old age is yet an unfulfilled promise but so far so good. Let’s re-read the Men are from Mars while I take a trip to Venus every now and then to stay true to who we are . Let us continue to brush against each other while we hurry to go to work and rub each gently when needed instead of the wrong way. Practice the art of listening for when the stage of wearing hearing aids arrives you will just know the unsaid by the frowns and puzzled expressions. Support me in my anger outbursts and cool me off with a kiss on my forehead which is my third eye awareness point as per my new knowledge. Love me more through those not so lovable phases. Show me that love that lasts beyond seasons and reasons. And bring me those teddy bears and roses that you made me compromise upon while I set the dinner table.
Fifth step : Prannath , let us take each other’s happiness more seriously than before because “the taken for granted “ attitude has only exposed the rusty side of love. Use my behavior like the shaving mirror in which you keep adjusting the angles to see in the nooks and corners where the shabby growth of expectations lies unfulfilled .Let us promise to renew our marriage vows a neat look not for anyone but because we mean a lot to each other by now. A marriage meant to last beyond the first impressions, a true companionship.
Sixth step : Patidev, allow me now to see the callosity on your hands which you hide and the pain in your shoulders which have sunk deep within while you toiled hard to keep the kitchen fires burning and to keep the kids happy. Share the pain of undelivered promises where you have whipped yourself into silence and angry outbursts. Meanwhile bear with me while I master the art of more understanding and compassion. I promise not to put my two paisa advice where it is not needed and rather concentrate on cultivating the habit of flushing those grievances down the drain regularly like old times in order to keep moving.
Seventh step : Jaaneman , I promise to still choose you and not compare you to the elite achievers and go-getters . As long as we keep passing the tests of trust and loyalty consistently the ranks don’t matter. Do instruct those female admirers though that your wife still is the sole master of the inner demons of jealousy and possessiveness and will not unleash them as long as they are frolicking outside the Lakshmana Rekha.
And as the ceremony ends ,I am keeping my wedding ring aside in the locker and throwing my mile stones away to liberate each other from the promises , predictions and expectations. With the new freshness and strength that I take from the wedding venue let our seasoned, crispy love which is so juicy and tender inside show our children what dreams are made off. Let us eat and drink to our heart’s content and go back dancing to the Bhangra beats on the magic carpet rolling again to welcome you. Pick and wear those garlands this time and let that sweet smell of flowers linger. Let the bands play our favorite tunes softly and let the lights keep creating the magic in the shadows making the trees glow white instead of green .For those who walked the path there are proud moments every step of the way because finally it is not the individuals, the style, rings, or Kundli that decide the fate of marriage rather the curse of Durvasa Rishi comes wrapped in circumstances and challenges that present. It makes Dushyant forget Shakuntala at regular intervals and their tale of love titled Shubh, Mangal but Saavdhaan!
