But for Sukhvinder there was added pressure because she had a cleft palate, which her parents felt would make it more difficult to find a husband for her. So she joined those thousands of family groups who at any one time are sitting across from another family group in Delhi’s restaurants and hotels, trying to strike up a conversation.
“Every weekend I’d meet guys. Each time I would sit totally disinterested because you know you have this thing in your mind about a guy that you want to marry and all the guys I met were jerks. I don’t know why everyone pretends to be extremely modern and out there and inside they’re complete idiots if I may say so. They’re in the party circle and very well dressed up and all of that, very expensive shades. And when they open their mouths you’re like, ‘Oh my God.’”
Parents use many methods to find prospective spouses for their offspring. Professional matchmakers cover a particular caste group or social class: they circulate albums containing single men and women’s résumés accompanied by photographs which, especially in the case of women, are minor masterpieces all of their own, the make-up professionally done beforehand, the carefully styled hair borne aloft on studio fans. But such matchmakers can serve only a small and well-delineated universe of partners. For a long time now, the ‘matrimonial’ pages of the newspapers have been the primary way to reach out into the city at large — and for traditionalists they are still the sole trusted route. In the last few years, however, online marriage agencies have stormed the market — in part because they also offer additional features such as detective and astrology services. Detectives check up on a person’s marital and sexual past, and verify the information they provide — that they really are HIV-negative, for instance, or vegetarian, or perfectly sighted. Astrologers ensure that there are not terrible clashes between the birth stars of the two prospective partners.
“I wanted to get married to someone I could have a conversation with. After ‘Hi’, most of these guys had nothing to say. ‘Don’t show the real you,’ is what my parents kept telling me, ‘don’t open your mouth too wide,’ so I’m trying to keep my mouth shut and I’m sitting listening to these guys and they’re like, ‘So do you know how to cook?’ and I’m like ‘Cook? No. I’ve always worked.’ ‘Oh.’”
It is difficult to convey in text the lobotomised tone in which Sukhvinder imitates her male interlocutors. Her renditions have me weeping with mirth.
“Then they would say, ‘Do you intend to quit your job?’ ‘No.’ ‘Oh. Because we don’t have any women working in our family.’ So I would say, ‘I think this isn’t happening then.’ ‘Oh. You have very strong views.’ I’m like, ‘Yeah.’ ‘Oh.’ So the conversation used to end right there.”
Sukhvinder and her sister are directors of their father’s business, which manufactures equipment for the printing industry. She is in charge of operations, which means that her working day often ends late. Quick-thinking and sure of her judgements, it is easy to see why she would be good at what she does.
“So I finally met Dhruv, the guy I married. I couldn’t point out any real flaws when we met the first time, and his family was not open to us meeting many more times. Because I’m a blabbermouth, I didn’t realise he didn’t talk. He just answered whatever I asked and that was about it, but he really had nothing to say. Mom and Dad wanted me to get married quickly because my sister was going through a rough patch in her marriage, and if something were to happen, I would be less eligible. So things moved quickly. My parents went to see their house and said it was nice. My father visited their factories, which seemed fine, though as we found out later they were not doing well at all.
“Things went badly from the very beginning. We were very different people. I told my husband before we got married, ‘I drink and I smoke and I don’t plan to quit. I understand the family you come from. If you think you have a problem with this, tell me now and we won’t do this. We haven’t got engaged yet, I’m not in love with you and I dare say you’re not in love with me. So we can say what we think.’ ‘No, I’m absolutely cool with that,’ he said. I said, ‘Fine.’
“When we went on our honeymoon, I carried five boxes of smokes. On the way we had a stopover in Singapore. I really wanted to smoke, but he was more into shopping, so I didn’t. So we got to Bali, we checked into the hotel, and the first thing I did was to light a cigarette, go out on the balcony and sit there looking at the view and thinking about this beautiful holiday. And he looked at me and he was quite taken aback; he hadn’t seen me smoking before. He was like, ‘Can’t you put that thing down? Don’t you want to rest a little bit? Don’t you want to lie down and watch TV?’
“I said, ‘I understand that a honeymoon is about lots of sex, but it’s not only about sex. We have to plan out what we’re going to do here because we may never come here again.’ And I’d brought all these pamphlets from the airport, and I wanted him to look through them with me so we could decide what we wanted to do.
“He was very boring. I had to drag him along to scuba diving. The guy didn’t know how to swim and he was nervous about it. So when I realised he was going to take a long time, I jumped in the water and spent a nice twenty minutes, and I came up and he was still sitting on the boat. He said, ‘I’m just about to go.’ Then I went down again and when I came back, he wasn’t there, so I realised he must be under the water. I was tired and I got on the boat, and there was this guy smoking a rolled cigarette and I asked him if he had another one.
“So by the time my husband pops up, I was sitting and smoking, and he saw me and said, ‘Where did you get that cigarette from? You didn’t bring yours with you.’ So I said, ‘No they’re his.’ He was really shocked. He said, ‘But you don’t know him!’ I said, ‘Okay, sorry.’ So I put out my cigarette.
“Actually it was finished anyway. I don’t waste my smokes. Not for anyone in the world.
“I said, ‘Let’s not make an issue of this.’
“Then we went shopping. You know, usually when you go away for the first time as a married couple, you bring back presents for everyone, so I made a list of everyone in his family and mine. He wanted to buy a carved wooden statue for himself. He looked at statues for forty-five minutes. I was going crazy. He said, ‘Don’t get impatient.’ Impatient? I wanted to pull his hair! I said, ‘You choose your statue, I’m going to buy the presents.’ I went and bought gifts for twenty-five people, came back, and he was still looking for his statue.
“He said, ‘I don’t just spend like you do. I’m careful about money.’ I said, ‘Being careful with money is one thing. I’m careful with money. But wasting your God-given time is something else.’
“That day I realised that I would never go shopping with him. So after we got back to Delhi, I took all his measurements and I used to go and get him everything he needed. Because I can’t stand wasting time shopping.