It’s 5.30 am.
I’m in my Uber on the way to catch a train.
On the DND flyway, I see a car I could not take my eyes off.
A brand new decorated i10 with a bride (and a groom) and perhaps two other family members are nested inside. Apparently returning from a very late “bidaai”.
From my window seat, I could see the expression of hope and anticipation on the bride’s face, who was sitting in the window seat of her car.
She was happy her life would now be filled with love, joy and all things beauty.
But when I see this setting: of a middle class family gifting a “gaadi” to a guy to take care of their girl, chills run down my spine.
How do I tell her, that I have seen my sisters walk this path of taking “everything” with them, and still ending up with nothing, no love to begin with.
How do I tell her, that those who truly love you will ask for you, not the things.
How do I tell her, that having things is fine but begging for it is not, and the one asking for it is certainly not someone to hope a future with.
But it shatters my heart to see girls giving up their self-worth for a few lacs because a guy “chose” them. It’s scary, might become scarry, and a scurry towards putting your head down and nodding, instead of a partnership.
Even writing this runs shivers down my spine because it reminds me of the sight of my sister crying after her engagement, when her fiancé came to our home to ask for a gaadi and ask my father to sponsor the entire party. It kills me to know that a jhansi ki rani like her said yes to a marriage like that, nonetheless.
I might be wrong in assuming that this “uber marriage” is not going to be a happy relationship, et al, and let me tell you, I’d be the happiest to know I’m wrong—even though there is no way ever for me to know.
I have seen so many lives being taken away from girls who are still breathing oxygen, that I wish more girls knew that love doesn’t put a price tag on you. It makes you feel you are priceless. Anything else is manipulation under the rugs of love. Pretence at best.
