Why do I hate marriages??

​I hate marriages. That’s it. No euphemism. Just plain truth. I fucking HATE marriages.

If I have to describe it in a line, a marriage is an extravaganza of human stupidity.
A lot of work, a lot of prefunctaries and cordialities, smiles all around, surging emotions and tempests of tension within.

A masquerade. A game of facades. Check and mate if you play honest.

A myriad of rituals, no significance, long lost meaning and reason, just pure obligatory formal mess. 
Its like people gather all their latent fakeness for a whole year or so, and nurture it, brew it, and for one day, for just one event, unleash it. 
A lot of people come together in a marriage. Family, friends, acquaintances, all gather in the grand ‘unifying’ event. But, maybe it’s my thinking, my anger, but I believe its one of those rare times when a person feels truly alone. In an absence of realness, genuineness, and in a plethora of fakeness, one feels genuinely lost.
People don’t bat an eye to give away the income of their lifetime for a couple of days, for needless functions and parties and gifts and dowry and what not. Its not an event, its a conglomeration, an enterprise in itself.

So much money is poured into an abyss. Needless things. All that pomp and show, staging, lighting, food, drinks, clothes! Excessively glossy, excessively formal, incredibly stupid, incredibly needless. With all these kitsches galore, marriages are cringeworthy, and a lost cause, nothing more.

And arranged marriages are amazingly stupid, yeah they are, as if your family would know better about you than you yourself, your choices, your dreams, your life, your partner, you get to choose none here. Things happen to you, things are chosen for you here. 
At least in love marriages, if you botch it up, you have yourself to blame. And its much better,really. Because if your arranged marriage turns out to be a failure, then you blame your parents and family, that’s painful, and unfortunate.
And the girl-saying-sayonara-to-the-family thing. All are normal before that part. All is hunky dory. But when that part comes, out of the blue come the waterworks. No I am not mocking feelings and emotions, but what riles me up is the fakeness here. Yes there is a lot of it. You can so easily sense it. So evident. So deplorable. But it is so rigorously entwined with real emotions, you can’t draw a line here.

 I have one question. One simple one. This is the 21st century. Yeah, when a girl leaves home, the family feels sad and terrible but hopeful for the future. But shouldn’t this bittersweet feeling overwhelm that family when a girl leaves her home, not after marriage, not to go to her husband’s place she would soon call home, BUT when she becomes independent, and is able to stand on her own in the world.

Union of two people, a commemoration of a lifelong commitment and love should be the purest and the most beautiful thing. And it is anything but. Everything but it.

Now all that shit that this is strictly what I feel, and its not a question of wrong and right. Blah blah blah.

But you know the truth. Oh yeah, you do. 

Do you?

 Aberrance, not uniformity, is the only absolute…

Could have said ‘Change is the only constant’, but noooo… So pretentious.

We love to create boundaries. And all sorts of quandaries.

And love to hurt, love to smother, him who is different and stays happy that way, or her, because ‘she’ is another sect we have relished in casting away.

Warring, not on ideas and absolutes. Not on what’s right. But on our differences, on our beliefs, things we don’t choose, and things we are proud to choose for ourselves, and ourselves only.

Most of us are not different in our beliefs or our choices because we crave any attention, or repugnance. (Well some of us do. They are different, they choose to be different that way.) We are different because its our innateness, our inner calling. And that’s so simple, yet so incredibly unfathomable.

Being a drop of minority in a sea of majority, where everyone wants to paint you in their own color, ‘acceptable’ color. Isn’t that disheartening?

We decide our norms and laws, we design them ourselves, treat them as constants, unchallengeable, unchangeable decrees. And still stupidly abide by them even when they hurt us. Shackles of our own making. Preposterously funny apparently. But a gargantuan struggle and a bitter reality to live in.

We are so deeply embossed in the quagmire of our intolerant ideologies, we still reek of them, and still see the world through them.

We are meant to be different. Randomness, incongruity is the meaning of universe. Its a default feature, in all of the creation. Its embedded, in all of us, in our very souls. But, the thing is, we stopped looking into our souls a long time ago.