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.