Great Indian Bride Hunt

In the late 80s, before the advent of cable TV, when the 9.00 o’clock serials on Doordarshan used to capture the attention of the Indian middle class, there was one of these serials called Mr. Yogi. It was a comic-tragic series where Yogesh Ishwarlal Patel, an NRI (Non Resident Indian) returns to Bombay looking for a bride. As a school boy, having a good laugh at the expense of Mr. Yogi, being in a similar situation 20 years down the line was the last thing on my mind. But then isn't that what life is all about? A series of unfortunate events occurring when you least expect them to. I actually fail to remember if Mr. Yogi ultimately found a suitable bride. I wonder whatever happened to Mr.Yogi, if the same fate awaits me. But then who cares? Isn't the journey more important than the destination? Without much more ado let me get into the story of 'Travails of the great Indian Bride search’ or ‘The Seven damsel damnation’.

In our families, typically, 25-27 is considered an ideal age for marriage. A strategic onsite trip to Germany for a year, a year of preparation for MBA entrance and 2 years of MBA helped me postpone the inevitable. But at 29, parents had reached the limits of patience and the bride hunt begins. As soon as I returned home from my convocation, the first girl was already ready. The girl’s mom had already sent the photos and her e-mail id and the stage was set for me. I mailed her and started chatting with her on G-Talk. The talk was going on and on. ‘How are you?’, ‘How was the weekend?’, ‘Did you watch IPL?’ and then more challenging questions ‘Do you like your mom or dad?’, ‘Tell me 3 things your friends dislike about you’, ‘What is the weirdest thing you have done?’ I thought probably the girl was also following adaptive testing methodologies like GRE where questions kept getting tougher as you keep answering them right. So I was sure I was proceeding along the right track.

I have always been a believer in continuous feedback mechanism, So I thought mid way I would summarize our discussion and give her my assessment of her behavioral competencies based on the discussion so far and also get her feedback about my progress so far. I tried my best to employ motivation theories in appraising her. But somehow the whole idea of appraisal seemed to upset her. So we dropped the idea and chatted for a couple of times and then for 10 days I don’t hear from her. Then this mail

“How are you? I hope everything is fine. I wanted to let you know that I am not very comfortable taking this forward. I know we haven’t spoken much. But I feel we do not have similar ways of thinking or doing stuff. I think we also communicate differently. By this time, I must have felt a bonding of friendship at least. I am still not getting that. I do not think it is worth spending time on this when one of us do not feel comfortable. Anyways. all the best!! I am sure you will find someone who is more compatible to you. Cheers!! Have fun!!”

So I decided to take her advice and have fun that day by planning a trip to a nearby Jungle Lodge with a couple of classmates. It s not everyone who gets to interact with girls who talks through her nose and picks up things with her feet and walks using her hands. Isn't that what she meant by doing things differently and communicating differently?

Let s move on to episode 2. This girl had written lot of interesting stuff in her profile something about woods and trees and something like that which I found quite interesting. She was a journalist and done lot of other courses as well including a foreign MBA. Her father also seemed to be quite wealthy and well educated. Seemed like the family would provide the ideal life for me. After all who has not dreamed of a wealthy and well connected father in law at least some point in life?

There was a rapid exchange of mails one after the other almost on a daily basis for a month. Then came phone calls. And then the fateful day where a meeting was scheduled. Things had progressed too fast. I was wondering whether I had hit my head against something or what. She was coming down to my city and we had scheduled a meeting that evening at the lounge of a 5-star hotel she was staying at with her dad. I left office early, went home, took a bath and put on freshly ironed clothes and even combed my hair, which speaks volumes of the regard I had for this girl (and of course her family fortune!). I caught an auto and reached there taking a brief detour to get some biscuits for her. By the way I forgot to mention. She was supposedly a self proclaimed half-wit. I hope that’s the right term for people who make lot of witty comments? I used to laugh a lot at her ‘witty’ comments as it is quite easy to laugh in mail. How difficult is it to type ‘Ha ha ha. That was funny’? But it was going to be a different ball game when in person. I wondered whether I should take a flask of nitrous oxide with me to enable the laughing process. But with all the recent bombings, police seemed to be on an alert. So decided not to risk it .

There was this girl in some kind of fancy clothing (I can’t recollect exactly what it was except that it was something fancy as she mentioned about it) with her dear old daddy waiting there at the lounge. He spoke with me briefly and left, leaving me alone with the young lady at the snack lounge. I gave her the biscuits and then rolled up sleeve and geared myself for a good tuck in. But unfortunately the girl had other plans. She just ordered some soup and Russian salad and in order to maintain my dignity I also had to make do with the same. So it was going to be all talk and no food. Maybe more food would have relaxed the atmosphere and lead to a more positive outcome.

So we began talking. I started off about books and places I have visited. An interesting conversation seemed to be evolving despite the lack of food. But she soon cut it short and said “let’s get to business”. “As you wish, milady”. She said she wanted to finish her studies which might involve a bit of travel every month. Fair enough. Wanted to visit her parents now and then. Again fair enough. Have her friends for an evening over now and then. That was also fine as long as I was not the curio on display for the evening. Then she asked me what my expectation was. I told her about my views regarding the need for thrift. She said she also fully agreed and hardly spent anything except for those ‘small’ monthly expenses on those 3-4 little gold trinkets, fancy shoes and few of those designer wear. Other than it was just the regular expenses such as the car, the chauffer and the daily meal at the nearby 5 star restaurant. I asked her if she could give me an estimate of her total month expenses. She said “Well it must be around some 5000 Rs.” I did not tell her the chauffer alone would draw a salary of not less than Rs. 6000. Probably daddy darling was paying all the bills and dear husband would pay up after marriage so that our little Miss Mary Antoinette could continue to live in the world where 5000 Rs can buy you heaven on earth.

Then she moved on to other things. As we were talking she asked suddenly “So how would you express romance? Would you kiss my hand or something” I thought “Tell you what. Get a dog. He will not only kiss your hand, but lick it as well”

But said nothing. She also kept asking me what I thought about her looks and clothing. I said her eyes, ears, nose and mouth were in their proper places and as far as her clothing was concerned, it covered most of what needed to be covered. She did not look too satisfied. Then she pressed me to tell her what kind of girls I found attractive. I said physical beauty did not matter much with me but if I were asked what kind of feminine features I found aesthetically appealing, I would go for sharp features. Incidentally her features were rounded. So she started off “So you don’t find me beautiful”

I tried to tell her looks did not matter. I was not buying a art piece for my showcase. But she would not listen. Then she began to go on and on about how she is not getting the romantic feeling with me and stuff like that. I could see where she was coming from. Earlier during our conversation, when I was mentioning about my alignment with Mahatma Gandhi on carnality in marital relations, I had noticed her mouth had begun to blob in and out like a gold fish. There itself I had begun to sense it was not going to work. It was confirmed when she responded to my remark “True love has its basis in sacrifice” with “But that’s platonic love”.

So I just held fort till her dad came and made a quick exit promising to meet her again to explore how I could ‘express romance’. Next day morning, I wrote to her saying the best way for her to find romance is to find another man. I am finally inclined to agree with the anonymous wise man from the past who had said “Don’t marry for money. You can borrow it cheaper”

No communication from her after that though I offered to maintain friendship with her even if I did not marry her. Wonder why she even disconnects my phone calls .It’s difficult to understand these women.

That covers 2 episodes of my search for a bride. I think I am mentally exhausted after writing such a long piece. No energy to proceed with the other 5. But I guess these 2 give a flavor. Maybe sometime later I may venture to write about those as well, Or maybe not. Even Mr. Yogi has begun to get boring after a while. So I guess same for my blog as well. And I am sure the number if going to be much more than 7. Probably after a while it would become more like a déjà vu. Even now I am getting the feeling at times. I wonder how things shape up. If anyone has seen Mr. Yogi and remember how it ended, you can put it on the comments in my blog.

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