I married a tree
Hi, I am Ria, and I am from Lucknow — a small busy town in Uttar Pradesh, India. I have a great job and a good home with a really cute cat, Chichi. At 31, what I didn’t have was a husband. I never fret about it but my family was all over the town fixing me up with strangers and encouraging me to date — “find someone”. I have had my series of relationships but, none of them materialized into marriage. Also, my being “Manglik” didn’t help my cause much.
Hinduism has strong roots in astrology. We believe that everything is related to planetary positions as we are a part of the same universe. The planets affect the aura and energy of our planet and therefore affect us. At the time when I was born, Mars was in an unfavorable position, since then I was branded a “Manglik”. No, it doesn’t suck to be a Manglik, no one discriminates against you or makes you feel bad about it … until marriage. I almost forgot about it until 4 years back when my parents thought it was a good time for me to settle down and have a family. They say a marriage between Manglik and non-Manglik can be disastrous. They say that if a Manglik girl marries a non-Manglik boy, it impacts the lifespan of the boy and can cause untimely death. As we all know, no one wants that, do they? The problem is, in the most populous country of the world, it is extremely tough to find a Manglik guy who is also worth marrying.
So my parents set me up with yet another prospect, Vivek. I reached the café, but Vivek was nowhere to be seen. I settled down at a table near the window and ordered a glass of water. You know that weird feeling when you think someone is watching you, and intuitively you lift your eyes to see in the exact direction — and someone IS watching you. Yea, that happened to me. I caught myself looking into the eyes of this man, maybe on a date with the other girl, listening to her but looking at me. Our eyes locked, and I gave him an awkward smile, he nodded and went back to his conversation with the girl he was with.
No sparks were flying, none of the “attraction” shenanigans happening. What was there though, was a beep on my phone, Vivek’s message telling me he will not be able to make it because of some work at his office. He said he was so sorry and if we can reschedule the “meeting”. I was about to grab my purse and move on when, it dawned on me — suddenly, how light I felt. There was no pressure of impressing or assessing someone. I was at a cafe, I could definitely have a nice cup of coffee with maybe a lemon cake. I ordered and I started looking around. I looked at him again. He was smiling and listening to a very animated and excited girl in front of him. I started making up their conversation in my mind. It was so funny in my head that I started smiling. My coffee arrived and as soon as I was about to dig in I heard — “Excuse me, can I join you?”. It was him. I stammered — “sure”. He said he saw me smiling at him and I started giving him excuses, no it was not intentional, and possibly he was mistaken. In India, we are always so cautious of how we are perceived by others, and I didn’t want to be the “inviting one”. I wished I had more confidence to own a smile I gave while staring at a man.
He was a nice guy. Like me, he was also there to “see” someone, the difference being she actually turned up. He didn’t think it would work out with the girl as there was nothing they had in common. In no time we started exchanging stories and life episodes. I was Manglik and he was bald. I was 31 and he was 32. My life was interesting to him, and he was to me. I wouldn’t say it was love or crush or anything like that. But he was one of the people, I wouldn’t have refused to marry. In today's arranged marriages, this is a good thing. But he was not here for me. We had a pleasant time, exchanged numbers, and left. I went on meeting new guys, but nothing seemed to work out. After about a month, I got a call. It was him, Aryan. He told me that, he liked me and if my parents are okay we can meet formally. I spoke to my parents, they were hesitant, but not every day a guy knocks on their Manglik daughter’s door. Secretly, I was excited as well. But I was not acknowledging it, because I had seen too many wasted efforts and I just didn’t want to get hurt any more.
The next day, he came in with his parents, and it was a fun evening. My parents told them how Manglik I was. By the way, there is a scale of how Manglik you can be. I was moderately Manglik. It was all over Aryans’ mothers’ face that she was not too elated with her son marrying me. They said they were progressive people who didn’t believe in all this and are only concerned for their son's happiness. I guess, when it is about life and death, even the most progressive minds (especially mothers) don’t want to take a chance. Everyone loved everyone and things were moving in a positive direction. My family was very happy and I started dreaming. I used to talk to Chichi about all my dreams. Even the coffee mug I bought, I wondered if it will be something which will look good in my new home. Things between me and Aryan started well. Mature romance is so much different from college romance. Especially when you know for certain that this is headed to marriage, your family knows — things just get simpler.
A month before the wedding, Aryans family dropped by. They brought a priest along. I was curable — the priest said. My Manglik effects have an anecdote — he said — I have to marry a banana tree. Now everyone was looking at me expectantly. I just looked at Aryan. I don’t know why, I felt betrayed. He said he didn’t believe in all this. He said he will never let anyone blame me should anything ever go wrong in his life because this is what he doesn’t stand by. But by marrying me off to a banana tree, he was breaking the very first promise he made. Aryan looked back into my eyes, with no remorse or acknowledgment of my feelings. Then as if reading my mind, Aryan's mom said — “Beta, don’t you want my son to live a long healthy life”. At that moment I realized, marrying the tree or not, from now whatever wrong will happen in Aryans life, I will be the one who would be accused. I politely asked for some time and went to my room. Aryan followed me in, and I spoke my mind to him. He said I was unnecessarily being over-sensitive, and it was just for his mother's satisfaction. Then eventually my mom came in, she said had it been some other arranged marriage I wouldn’t have objected — which was true. But in this marriage, I began trusting him. He empowered me, then punched me in the gut. At least it felt like that. I obliged them — not that I had a choice, I just didn’t have answers to their questions. I got married to the banana tree in my community park, after a week.
Things returned to normal and everyone moved on. On my wedding day, Aryan's parents demanded a car as a dowry after the pheras were done. Pheras are solemnization of a marriage. You are pronounced husband and wife once they are completed. They refused to take me with them until we paid up the dowry — “A blessing” in their vocabulary to have married their precious boy to a Manglik. Now, this is something I had an opinion about, and I did stand for myself.
Marriage with Aryan was nullified. But to this day, I remain married to the tree in my community park. To tell you the truth, he is not a bad husband. He listens to me, is very calm, smells nice, and is just nice to be around. My future husband's prospects definitely have a tough competition ahead!
