So Shashi Tweet Tharoor has tied the knot for the third time. Good work there. After a weekend spent in post mortems of four marriages (thankfully, no funerals) that have fallen apart and a fifth that has been redefined as an open marriage, this comes as positive news, although Tharoor is no distant relative the last I checked my family tree.
The said marriages analysed have always been a little too dubious for me; one too volatile, one too aseptic, one too convenient and one too strategic, if you know what I mean. They have all called it quits and are in various stages of negotiation or paperwork, but my point is, do they know what it means to start all over again? Do they really think they will get it right the second time around? Do they believe the fault lies in the person and not marriage as a concept?
May be I am a tad old-fashioned, as was the girl-friend I was discussing this with, but we both agreed that at no point does a marriage ‘stop working’, unless you decide to stop working on it. A bit of wisdom here to people on the verge or if you are courting someone: if it’s somewhat working, tie the knot before you really get to ‘know’ the other person. Because the more you know, the less you will like them.
I’m always sceptical of couples who go out for too long, before they (usually one of them) decide to tie the knot. What will you know in four years that you won’t know in four months? (assuming, of course, that you are blessed with reasonable intelligence and an acute sense of extrapolation). Longer the courtship, more the build-up, greater the expectations, higher the chances of disappointment (two of the four marriages discussed had very long courtships)
So other than a bereavement of the spouse in early years of a marriage, I see no reason why one would want to marry again. Once is gory enough. Imagine dealing with a life-long work in progress, OCDs, bizarre sleep cycles, another wardrobe, books you don’t care about, sharing a pot, your favourite food, quilt, shoe rack, suitcases, computer... the works. Now imagine reaching an equilibrium (however skewed) with one person and then having to do it all over again with another. Which brings me to: how different can it be the second time around? So, unless the spouse is psycho, abusive, a terrorist or a threat to society, why do the work again?
In the husband’s simplistic PS3 logic, why would you try to overwrite a perfectly saved game with something that could be... er... slightly dodgy?
Now, some women might be offended by that analogy, but I think I know the husband enough to know that if he has started equating me with a PS3 game, I must be highly indispensable. Touché!